Prologue: A Grisly Spectacle
A shadowy figure crept through the Ninth District. His eyes flashed from side to side as he wandered down alley after alley, watching for easy targets, lawmen, and witnesses in equal measure. The air was damp, the rising scent of wet grass signifying that people had recently finished tending to their various gardens and washing the nearby buildings. The citizens would be settling down for the night. Thoroughly satisfied that he was alone, the man approached a quiet storefront.
With the loud crash of glass shattering, he broke through the front door, taking care not to cut himself on the falling shards. His surroundings were that of a quaint bakery. It was even homey in the dead of night. Though the display glasses were empty, the smell of rising bread and sweet treats lingered in the air like a fond memory. Overall an unassuming, typical shop in the Ninth. The thief knew better, though. Heâd heard from some of his contacts that the shopâs owner had recently come to own a rather lovely jewel. There were whispers she was looking to sell, but why should he pay when he could just take?
He began to not-so-carefully ransack the store, tipping boxes of ingredients onto the floor, rummaging through drawers, and even tipping over some of the display cases before he finally found a small lock box. This has to be it! The man pulled a set of lock picks from his pockets and set to work, twisting, pushing, and pulling until he heard a dull click as the box popped open.
Laying inside was a gem, large enough to fill the palm of his hand. It was a deep purple, darkening to stark black in some places. It was ovate and perfectly smooth all the way around, not a single imperfection. When he lifted it, he could feel the sheer mass of it, dense and surely valuable. With a triumphant smirk, he tucked the gem into his leathers and turned for the door.
Something wasnât right, however. As the thief stepped outside, he felt a heavy feeling settling on him, as if a pair of eyes watched over him from the shadows. He spun around, searching for perhaps some guard patrol, or maybe the owner of the shop coming to investigate the sounds coming from the bakery. Instead he found, appearing from nearby shadows, a huge man dressed in all black, the gaps in his clothing showing the powerful musculature underneath. Over his shoulder he carried a huge, two-handed hammer, and at his belt glowed a small blue blade, almost like a dagger.
The beast of a man was staring right at the thief.
The guildless criminal was no fighter; he turned heel and tried to run, only for a deep pain to collide with his skull, throwing him head-first into the nearby wall. Dazed and terrified, he braced himself against the wall, and felt the thick, sticky feeling of blood as he tried to push himself to his feet. The shadowy monster gripped the thief by the hair and lifted his head back, as the thief saw the blade flash in front of his face, a beetle-like symbol adorning the hilt.
âDimi-â the thief choked, as the blade was drawn across his throat.