"I need a drink..."

Ayrik thought, walking past a tavern. The doors were open, and inside he could hear the joyful chatter of drunken patrons. Fiddling with the empty coin purse hanging uselessly from his belt, he said to himself, "I need to make some gold, and fast, before I become completely sober". He began to walk toward the market.

In the market, a cloaked man eyed Ayrik from a distance, his gaze unsettling and unwavering.

Ayrik matches the strange man's gaze for a second, but continues walking past into the market.

The market bustled with life and people, with stalls selling all sorts of wares. The man's gaze never left him.

Ayrik walks over to a nearby stall where a woman stands wrapped in silks of greens and blues, selling bolts of various fabrics of many colors. He pretends to paw over the many fine textiles, but glances back over his shoulder after a few moments at the curious cloaked man.

The woman chattered incessantly about the materials used for the dyes, but the man's unfaltering gaze seemed powerful enough to hold his attention. The man broke eye contact, walking into a dark alleyway.

Ayrik steps away from the table and slides easily through the crowd toward the alley. He deftly pulls his worn but trusty dagger from its scabbard hidden in his waistband and holds it flat against his arm, to hide it from any prying eyes. He approaches the alley cautiously, quietly pursuing the strange man.

The man maneuvered expertly away from the market patrons, and kept moving quickly down the alley.

Ayrik shrinks into the shadows of the alley and stealthily follows the man, his eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness.

As soon as they were far enough away from the market that no one would see, the man turned and smiled, "Hail, good ser Ayrik."

"How do you know my name?" Ayrik asked suspiciously, "And I'm no ser. Knights are a bit too honourable for my tastes. I prefer the company of those with looser morals and tighter constitutions for the drink. But I digress. Who are you?"

"I am known I this city as Fade. I make both people and goods disappear." He smirked, though the shadows concealed his face. "And your reputation precedes you. I've known who you were as soon as you set foot in the city. I represent an offer for you. An offer that could prove very... Profitable for us both."

"Now you're speaking my language, Fade. What does this offer consist of?" Ayrik loosens his grip on the dagger and straightens up, though still wary of this strange figure.

"I am here to extend an invitation to you. To join the thieves network here in High Phelan." He smiled, "We could use someone of your skill. And there is gold to be made for us both."

"And just what does being a part of this network of thieves entail?"

"We offer protection, comradery, and bigger prizes. We can find you fences for your stolen goods. All we ask īs that a small cut of your takes help fund the guild. You'll come out on top, I assure you. And you are free to leave at any time." He offered honestly.

Ayrik eyes the man warily, then finally nods. "I'll do it. How shall I start?"

He nodded toward the market, "There is a man in blue silks. The lady with him is carrying a powder bag. Bring her bag to me. And I will show you sanctuary."

"A powder bag, you say? Yeah, I can handle that much," Ayrik said, turning away from Fade. He crept to the opening of the alleyway and peered out into the market, scanning the stalls for the woman.

The couple stood arm-in arm in front of a stall selling fine jewelry, patrons bustling around them.

Ayrik walks up to the back of the group and fiddles in his pocket, freeing a small glass vial, containing a capsule of blue liquid surrounded by a clear liquid. He looks around, making sure nobody is watching, and drops the vial at his feet. He places his heel onto the vial, and with a small *pop*, crushes it underfoot. In seconds, the area is filled with an acrid white smoke.

The patrons scattered in all directions, the couple remaining arm in arm as they panicked.

Ayrik stealthily slides down beside the table, crouching at the side. He slowly peeks around the side at the couple, searching for the bag.

The woman held the bag under her arm, close to her chest. They did not see Ayrik.

As quick as he can possibly move, Ayrik runs out from beside the table, wrenches the bag from the woman's grasp, and dives back into the smoke, disappearing among the panicking bystanders. He quickly makes his way back to the seclusion of the alley.