Thieves Guild maps are rarely accurate. They tell you the general direction you want to head. At night this is greatly exaggerated. The stars are there to help us to find our way though. We were of the Thieves Guild hired to perform a hit. Five thieves who knew nothing about the other. That is not the way to earn trust, and it certainly doesn't help you trust your partner to not screw you out of the deal. Despite all that, here I was, walking down the middle of the main dirt road to Trollheim. I strongly disagreed to this because it would make us slightly more visible than if we took the thief's road that lead around most of the major towns. The moon was up... and full...so beautiful...

**My father had always told me to stay in the shadows. To never be seen. "Even moonlight is too much light to be under." he would say. To not be seen is the ultimate gift. It was a gift that was given to me when I was ten. My father sat me down in the deep woods and gave me a pendant. He explained that this pendant would keep me safe from evil, and safe from prying eyes. My father and I trained daily. He told me to use the power of the pendant to disappear into the nearby shadows so as to not be seen. He told me that if you were seen, you could be attacked. He didn't have a pendant but was able to show me how to disappear. I practiced whenever he wasn't around, and trained when he was.

One day my father was walking down the road we normally trained on, and I was hidden in the shadows just down the road. As far as I could tell he could not see me. He looked past me as if I wasn't even there. His eyes skimmed the edge of the forest, and looked down the road a long distance. I found it quite odd that he would be walking in the middle of the road, even though it was a road that only thieves traveled on. Suddenly my father stood still. He stood there motionless while drawing a painful face. It seemed he wanted to cry, but was in too much pain that he could not. He started to fall, and as his knees hit the ground he lurched forward revealing an arrow protruding from his back. He stared at me as if he had just seen me at his new height. The painful face faded, and the tears suddenly dried up. My father looked at me, and smiled. His torso fell forwards, and his face hit the ground hard.**

The headmaster of the Thieves Guild instructed us to follow the main road because no one would be traveling at that time of night, especially with what was going on in Trollheim. Apparently a celebration was going on in Trollheim that night praising the god Targos. A woman named Aslanna had been brought back from the dead at the husband's request to the fiery god. I wasn't sure of the details but I did know that she had been reborn in Donas, and that these people were celebrating her rebirth here in the woods- hidden city of Trollheim. Walking down the middle of the street made me nervous. I would rather have been off in the shadows of the woods, or on the road Darellius, a road name after my father. My father John Darellius...My father... father...

**An elf crept out of the shadows coming up from behind my father. He walked down the middle of the road unafraid because he knew that this man was the only one who was walking here or even near here. The elf crouched by my father and ripped the arrow from his back. No blood came out of the wound. Far away as I was, I could tell this. My father was dead. Rage built in my heart. I felt nothing but contempt for this lowly elf that had taken my father from me. I sat breathing heavier...but not heavy enough to let the elf know my location. I stood ever so slowly still enveloped in shadow. Walking just as carefully I went over to the side of the road where the elf was still crouched. I walked out from the forest...he didn't hear me...he couldn't see me...**

"Are you listening to me?" I was asked. "Yes" I answered. "Then what did I say?" our leader asked. I was being tested. It was a test of intelligence. "We are going into Trollheim under the ruckus of the celebration to break into the bank. We are to use a rare opening scroll to open the front door. The guards shouldn't be around because they would be making sure nothing was going on at the celebration." I responded. "Very good, I didn't think you were paying attention." Our leader replied.

We were in looking distance of the town. I could have seen it earlier if I was paying attention ahead of us. During the walk I was the rear protection. I was to make sure no one came up from behind us. I had a partner who was doing this with me. He was only slightly taller than I was, but had a large cut on his left arm. He said he was in a big fight when he was younger. Two knights stopped him coming into a town with a bag of gold, and wanted a share of it. They figured he had robbed someone of it, and if he wanted to stay out of the town's jail cell that night, he'd have to give them some. He refused and ran away, but not before one of the knight drew his sword and flung it at the thief. It was a deep cut from the look of it. As if the swing of the sword along with the speed this thief had left at, had worked as a whole against him. It had healed over time, and had not disfigured the rest of his arm.

The entrance to Trollheim didn't have a guard, or even a sentry standing watch on the walls nearest the gate. The gate was open. We had planned to scale the wall if necessary, but with the commotion of the celebration someone had left the front gates open. We walked into town right down the main street. This of course made me exceptionally nervous. We walked down the street a ways when suddenly a pedestrian came out of the shadows towards us. A distant drunkard probably lost and trying to find his way back towards the party. A flash of moonlight shimmering swiftly over two blades could be seen, and the pedestrian was no more. A bloody lump now lay where the pedestrian once stood. The two other thieves besides the leader and myself were the warriors of the bunch. Occasionally a thief will train in stealth, and combat. The blood...it was so...red...

**The elf never heard me coming. Which was of course odd for his race. Having elvish ears, he should have heard me from where I was when I stood up. But that is the added effect of hiding in the shadow. The shadows conceal not only your face, but your footsteps as well. Perhaps he should have trained his nose as well as his eyes and ears. I brought my fists down on his back between where his neck ended, and his shoulders began. He fell flat down next to my father. It muttered a few elven words, which I could only imagine were reserved for pain of sorts. I turned the elf over and let the shadow fall from around me. The elf stared at me; or rather he stared at the jeweled dagger I held in my hands.

While I was sneaking up towards the elf, I had removed the dagger from the elf's belt. He now recognized it as his, and his face grew pale. I walked slowly towards him. I had heard of the elves and how they would fake surprise or vulnerability to trick their captives and then escape. Knowing this, I was ready when he thrust his foot towards my crotch. I swiftly grabbed it and turned it 180 degrees from where it should normally be. The rest of his body, however, did not.**

The streets were dark except for the moonlight penetrating most everything. The torches that normally illuminate the bank were extinguished, and I watched the light shining on top of the bank. The fifth member of our group was stationed on the top of the bank. When it became dark, and the celebration started, he was to douse the torches with water, and use his Shellavia necklace. It is a rare necklace that was "obtained" from the elves by the go-getters of the thieves' guild. If activated, it would shine either a massive ball of light around the wearer, which was good for locating a lost person, or a straight small beam of light, usually used as a more discrete signal. He used the second of the two, to signal it was safe to approach the bank. We did so, and our party leader and the warriors walked up to the front door. The leader fumbled through his pockets.

Holding up and unrolling the opening scroll, he proceeded to mumble some words of wizards at the door. The scroll's lettering lit up, and the door opened. The scroll then crumbled like dust to the ground. Our leader walked over the dust and walked into the bank with his warriors following him inside. The fifth member of our party and myself were stationed as watchers just outside the door to make sure no guards were going out of their way to protect the city. We hoped that they would be the lazy and pathetic guards that we researched them to be, and just stay at the celebration drinking, and flirting with the single women. They would do both simultaneous decreasing the effectiveness of the flirting. I looked at my companion. He looked to his right at me, and then behind him into the bank giving me the impression that he was eager to leave. We had discussed our own plans before the mission started, and that was a risk in itself. It was possible that this companion of mine would go straight to the thieves' council and report me. I knew all too well about deception, but I was willing to risk it all...for this...one chance...

**The elf screamed in pain, and cursed at me in his foreign tongue. I sneered at him, and held up the dagger ready to strike. He held up his hands and pleaded for his life in a language, which I was able understand. I hated him for what he had done to me, and for how he had ended my father's life. Thieves are supposed to die with their families, and to be buried in the thieves' hall underneath the thieves' base of operations. The catacombs run extensively beneath the equally large complex. My father died at the hands of another thinking creature, and was not going to be buried with honor. A thief only retains his honor if he dies of old age. To be killed is to show your weakness, and lack of skill in the stealth arts.

This elf...this cowering pile of quivering flesh that was looking up at me with pleading eyes had not only taken away my fathers life, but he took away his honor, and his only chance to be buried with his forefathers. I stared into his eyes, and I saw fear, but I also saw sorrow. It suddenly occurred to me. This man had not wanted to kill my father. He was forced. Someone hadn't hired him to do it; he was made to do it. Looking into his eyes I could feel him look at me with such sorrow, I could not bring myself to avenge my father. I raised the dagger in the air, but not in a striking motion, but more like to say, this is now mine, and I placed it inside my belt. I stooped down to my father, and took his belt from him, and his holy necklace he always wears. As I stood up again I looked down at the elf. I reached into my pouch and gave him an Alastrial elixir, which is used to return bones to their original shape, and to mend them within a few minutes of taking it. I started to walk off when I felt a tug at my pant leg. The elf pointed the way I was going, which was the way he had come from, and shook his head. He then pointed the oppsite direction and nodded.**

I saw a guard coming our way, and I made a noise at my companion while pointing at the guard. My companion nodded at me, I nodded back in return, and we began to carry out our plan. We began to place our pouches of powder around the corners of the building, and around the front door. I then went up to the front of the bank, and closed the door locking our partners inside. I walked to the middle of the street and whistled as loudly as I could at the guard. My companion lit the fuse. The guard came running, but we had already started on our escape. As we ran past the barred windows of the bank we could hear our partners inside yelling at us to open the front door.

The hissing sound behind me was more than enough to keep my legs moving, but I kept looking behind me to make sure my companion was close behind. A low "fwoomp!" could be heard, and then the brightest display of lights could be seen reflecting off the houses ahead of us. We had placed the charges so that when they blew, they knocked out the corners of the building and collapsed the ceiling on top of our partners...I so hated...those men...

**I took his strange movement to mean that I shouldn't come the way he came, but instead head farther down the road. I went a little bit down the road and hid again in the shadow. Watching back the way I came, I saw the elf imbibe the elixir. He started to twitch and toss, then lay still for a few seconds. When he regained consciousness he stood up on his now fixed foot, and stood nervously. I saw the large figures down the road probably before the elf, because the elf was looking my direction to see if he could see me. He did however hear them, and turned around to face them. Just as suddenly an arrow went through his head and landed with a thud a few inches beside me.

The two ogres that were walking up towards the two dead bodies were joined by an elf that came out of the woods next to them. The ogres were big, fat, and green like any ogre out in the wild. These however were intelligent. They were in the higher ranks of the ogre lifestyle. The elf was another male elf. His clothing was all black, and he wore a large cloak that parted down the sides. It would seem that these ogres were the ones who had made the elf kill my father. They had no desire however for the elf to live, because to do so would risk him telling the Thieves Guild about the incident. The other elf bent down next to the two corpses and stood up suddenly. I understood Ogrish, and that is what the elf spoke in so that the ogres could understand him. He said, "This elf weapon stole. Thief near- by." I decided to leave quickly so as not to be discovered.**

As we sat outside of Trollheim, my companion and I talked for a while about how we would live out the rest of our lives. We couldn't go back to the thieves' guild. We were now outcasts. To murder a fellow thief, is to invite the whole of the Assassin's guild. We were now hunted prey. We would have to start our new lives in secret. Change our names, and change our past. We were no longer who we were.

With that in mind, we parted as strangers, and I went off towards the woods to recover a satchel I had prepared before the hit with spare clothes, and some gold. I changed clothing, and picked up my satchel and walked into the town of Trollheim. The guards were everywhere now because of the explosion, and were soon running up to me with swords drawn. "WHO ARE YOU?!" They asked with rage.

I am...I do not know anymore...yes I do...

**"I prithee, son of John, to spare my life. I had no desire to kill your father, but I was forced to do it. I prithee, son of John, please do not end my life as I have ended your father's."**

I knew the word "prithee", for my father had used it when he was alive. It meant: I pray thee. It was something only my father said.

"My name" I began, "is PritheeJohn Darellius."