The night swept in and wrapped the vagabond in a cool cloak of darkness as he silently wove his way through the city streets. His hood obscured his vision, but his knowledge of the roads and rooftops coupled with his enviable hearing and sense perception guided him expertly as the clatter of the city watch started up. Four whole minutes, that was a new record for them. He was almost proud of the fools, normally they didn't know he had been there until the following morning. The steady weight of the pouch on his hip brought a smile to his lips. He was going to be so rich after this.
The thief wound his way left and right, taking backstreets and scaling walls to get onto the rooftops. He was no safer up here than he had been on the street, in fact he was probably in more danger. Up here he couldn't hide, he couldn't blend in. But he could move faster, and there was still enough distance between him and The Watch that the risk was worth it. With the silence of a spectre, he glided along under the pale moon.
The moon gloated and glared at him, aiding The Watch in their fool's errand. He always preferred to work on a moonless night, preferably in a storm. It was always darker, louder, made his life easier. He didn't have to try as hard and could take larger risks. This time, though, this time he just couldn't wait. When it had entered the city, he knew he wanted it, he knew he had to have it. After all, there were many people who would pay very dearly for the Eye of Vermithrax itself. A jewel of such beguiling beauty, flickering gold and orange flames seemed to dance within its very core. Many said it held mighty magical properties, but the thief didn't really care about that. What mattered was, this was the Eye of Vermithrax, and that was enough for him.
An arrow clattered along the roof tiles, causing the vagabond to jump. The archers had caught up with him far too quickly. There was no way that they should have managed to find out what route he had taken, get up on the roof and be within range already. For the first time in a very long time, the vagabond felt a bead of sweat break from his skin. The City Watch had always been comically bad at following him. They weren't incompetent, the number of corpses dangling from the city walls was enough to prove that, but he'd always been better than them. He'd been one step ahead of the game, two moves away from the cage. How had they caught him so quickly? The only real explanation he could think of was that they had been ready for him. They must have known that word would get out about the Eye of Vermithrax, and that he would invariably try to steal it. He'd managed to get in and out without too much difficulty, but The Watch had managed to catch on far more quickly than usual. The thief cursed himself for not seeing it before. No wonder this job had gone so well.
The thief leapt down from his roof and into the streets, riding the open awning of a merchants stall to land neatly on his feet, never breaking pace. He had to get out of the city, and he had to do it soon. He had a bit of a lead on The Watch, but not enough for it to remain safe for long. There were far more of them than there were of him. A wall of metal rounded the corner ahead of him, forcing him to dive into a narrow side street. He knew their tactic immediately. In fact, he was all but counting on it. They were trying to force him against the inner wall of the city, reduce the number of possible routes he could take. He ducked behind a number of buildings, making sure to keep the clatter of armour out of sight. Against a typical thief, this might have been the end for them. The City Watch would encircle him, pin him down and arrest him, ready to be executed. However, Domingo was no ordinary thief. And what looked like a solid wall was often anything but.
He found the stone, differentiated from its neighbours only by a slight difference in hue. The average eye would miss it, but once again, Domingo had no ordinary eyes. He pulled the stone out, quietly as he could and slipped into the new opening in the wall. With haste, he reinserted the stone and pulled it all the way in. He waited for a moment before he heard the steady metallic clink of the City Watch marching past his hidden passage. They hadn't even stopped. Domingo scrambled backwards through the tunnel, emerging on the other side virtually unharmed. He turned, checked his prize was still hanging from his belt and ran into the forest. He refused to stop until he was safely among the trees. Heaving a heavy sigh of relief, he laughed. At last, the greatest robbery in history had been accomplished. The Eye of Vermithrax, sacred enchanted stone, former treasure of a mighty dragon, was now his. And it was going to make one potential buyer very happy indeed.
It wouldn't be long before The Watch worked out where he had gone. Sooner or later they would figure it out, that he had managed to escape from the city and had probably gone for the forest. It was the only adequate cover for miles around. Domingo needed to find somewhere to lay low, to get deep enough into the forest that the City Watch would just give up on him. No one spent long in these trees anyway. Far too many stories, too many tales of people wandering in and never wandering out again, old magic and fearsome monsters abound in the leaves.
Such stories were often started by thieves and assassins in the first place. Anywhere that could provide a reasonable amount of cover for an escaping rogue would often have the very rogues hoping to hide there spreading stories in the local taverns about whatever ghouls and goblins wherein there dwelled. Domingo thanked the vagabonds of ages past for having the good grace to curse this forest and leave it free for him to travel. Naturally, the stories wouldn't keep everyone out, especially not squads of men in armour. But in the dead of night, when a cloud drifts over the moon and shrouds the entire place in shadow, even the most stalwart heart can grow frail. Panting slightly, he wove his way through the trees away from the city, both blessing and cursing the moon as it lit the path for him to tread.
The sounds of the city faded into the post midnight darkness. Domingo took a moment or two to rest on a particularly large branch, catching his breath. He was hungry, tired and a bit sore from all the jumping and running. He knew that he needed to find somewhere soon, somewhere to rest. He was far enough away from the city, the Watch shouldn't come out this far, not at night anyway. All he needed was some kind of shelter to rest his weary bones. Heaving a sigh, he raised his eyes heavenward and gazed at the treacherous moon. The thief's life was not an easy one. It was never an easy one. Very few people choose to live it, and many don't make it to old age. However, there was one magnificent payoff to the thief's life. The chance to make it big, to get that one big score, make enough money to establish yourself and live out the rest of your life in peace.
Everyone wants to get out of the life of a rogue as soon as possible. Some choose to go for the life of an organised crime boss, controlling significant portions of the criminal underworld. Others want to make a legitimate business. Domingo hadn't decided who he'd be yet, but there was time enough for that later. What he needed now was to rest, then find a fence to get a buyer for his ill gotten gain.
As he stared into the sky, he noticed something strange. The thief cocked his head and noticed a thin whisp of grey smoke rising, obscuring some of the stars slightly. There was a house nearby, which made absolutely no sense whatsoever. Who would build a house out here, in a forest that everyone thinks is haunted or cursed? The only possible explanation was that some old hermit had settled here, away from the eyes of people. He chose this place for the same reason Domingo had, no one else would ever come here. Still, the home of an old decrepit hermit would be a fine place to rest for the night. The old man might have a pot of soup or stew on the fire as well, so it could be an absolute godsend. As for the hermit, he wouldn't be much of a problem. One puff of Ghostroot powder should take care of him for the night. Decided, the thief began to make his way toward the house.
It was a simple affair, just a standard one person cottage, well thatched roof and a well maintained and ornamented wooden door. There were two windows, one either side of the door, set with slightly faded glass. A small garden grew outside, and Domingo could make out wild garlic flowers, broom shoots and assorted herbs and vegetables growing. Whoever lived here took very good care of the place. One of the windows was slightly open and the smell of cooking meat spilled out into the night. Domingo started salivating, sniffing the sumptuous odour again and again. He could almost feel himself being pulled in, almost falling off the branch he was perched on. Domingo shook his head and resettled himself. If the old man was cooking meat, he'd be over by the fire, away from the door. He could easily just walk in, drug the hermit and be perfectly fine for the night. With a deep breath, Domingo jumped down from the branch.
