Viren dreamt the dream again. Like before, the terrible storm tossed him around, throwing him off balance and nearly electrocuting him. This time was different though. Just before he dove beneath the waves, a bright golden light caught the corner of his eye. He paused and flew back up, trying to get above the reach of the waves. He scanned the stormy surface of the ocean, trying to see what caused the light. It hadn’t been lightning—he was strangely certain of that.
‘There! I see it!’
The light had flashed for only a second, but Viren locked his gaze onto where it had come from: a ship.
Its mast was broken, and wave after wave broke over it, almost like the storm itself was consciously trying to drown the stubborn vessel. Viren knew the ship was important, in the same odd way he had known the light hadn’t been caused by the storm. He knew the ship couldn’t be allowed to drown.
As he had that thought, lightning crashed not six feet from where he was. Viren jerked to the side, which, of course, threw him off balance. He righted himself—barely—and struggled closer to the ship. Before, as savage as the storm had seemed, he had only happened to be caught in it. Now though, it was almost like the storm had noticed him and was targeting him accordingly. He had to duck and dodge the lightning that struck at him every half minute.
On the deck of the ship, he could see many people rushing around in a panic; only one stood still. It was the mage who was creating the light. He could see now that she was trying to maintain a dozen little balls of light around the deck of the ship. At the same time, she was trying to form a tall beacon of light, which kept getting snuffed out by the wind and rain.
She was facing away from him, so all Viren could see in terms of appearance was a soaked blue dress and dirty blond hair whipping in the wind.
He observed all this in less than a minute, before he was forced to dodge yet another strike of lightning. He avoided it mostly, but it clipped his tail, and he roared in pain. Now he was even more off balance, and he yearned to dive deep into the ocean, far away from this terrible storm. But the ship!
He hesitated again, struggling to make a decision. Should he try and save the ship, a mission almost certainly bound to fail, and risk his life in the process, or dive into the waves and escape as he had done so many times before? Something deep inside him was torn in two; one part of him was desperate to save the ship and the other part was screaming at him to get away, to save himself!
He woke up before he could decide.
…
“Viren, are you doing all right?” Viren looked up.
“What?” Rickson was looking at him, his head tilted slightly in concern. Viren looked back down. “Oh. Yes. I’m fine, I guess.”
“You guess?” Viren chuckled a little but quickly sobered. He hadn’t been able to get the dream out of his head. Sure, it was an imaginary decision to save an imaginary ship from an imaginary storm, but it had just seemed so important. Why was it important? Viren didn’t have a clue.
“Listen,” Rickson continued. “You know we’re here for you, right? You might be the new guy, but the Tigers protect their own.” Viren nodded.
“Yeah. Thanks.” Unfortunately, Viren didn’t think the Tigers could beat up a dream. He shook his head. ‘Pull yourself together, Viren.’ If he couldn’t get the dream out of his head, he could at least hold off thinking about it until… sometime later. ‘Right now, I’m going to figure out what working with the Tigers is all about.’
They were on the road leading from Lord Evenbone’s house to Emreld. As Brack had said this morning, today’s mission was to do some recon and familiarize themselves with the situation in the city. Maybe investigate local reports about the thieves’ ring.
It was just a little over a mile from the Lord’s house to the city, and with the brisk pace the Tigers were taking Viren could already see Emreld in the distance. The western entrance, the one nearest to Lord Evenbone’s house, wasn’t decorated like the eastern one, which they had entered by the day before, but it was still busy.
As the Tigers approached the western gate, Viren noted the people using it. He wondered if any of them were with the thieves’ ring, smuggling goods out of the city, or maybe going to a hideout in the wilderness. Would their hideout even be in the wilderness? They weren’t bandits after all, and it would probably be more convenient, although riskier as well, to have a hideout inside Emreld.
‘Which would a thief prioritize more? Convenience or safety?’ Viren mulled over the question as the Tigers made their way deeper into the city. Eventually they reached a small picnic area, a stone courtyard with four old wooden tables positioned under the shade of a large oak tree.
“Alright, Tigers,” Brack said once they were all there. “Jobe and Bob, go buy some refreshments. Clara, head to the city hall and pick up the contract. Stan, Sarah, Jayso, and Lucey, you four are in charge of purchasing supplies and transporting them to Lord Evenbone’s manor. Everyone got all that?”
Once those named left to their assigned tasks, Brack organized the rest of the mercenaries into six groups of four, all tasked with finding more information about the thieves. Viren was grouped with Rickson, Tysonn, and a man named Marce.
“Ideas, anyone?” Rickson asked as the group left the courtyard. “Any way we can find a lead?” Marce shrugged. He was generally a quiet guy.
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“Try and catch one of the thieves?” Tysonn half joked.
“Not a bad idea,” Rickson responded. “Maybe after we already have some background information.”
“Let’s not talk to any merchants,” was Viren’s suggestion.
“Maybe we don’t have to catch a strictly professional thief,” Tysonn said after a moment of thought. Rickson inclined his head at him, silently urging him to explain. “Well, what’s the best way to get information about criminals?” Tysonn asked. The others were silent.
“…Other criminals!” Tysonn finally exclaimed. Viren looked at Rickson, who was starting to get a glint of understanding in his eye.
“…I still don’t get it,” Viren said.
…
Viren stood in the middle of Market Square, trying to figure out how an attention-seeking teenager would act. He was the bait in Tysonn’s plan.
“Aside from professional thieves,” he had explained, “pickpockets and purse snatchers are big problems in the outer cities. I know that firsthand.” It turned out that Tysonn was actually from Opeali, though not from Emreld. “They’re also big gossipers,” Tysonn had said. “Which is why we’re going to catch one.”
Viren was apparently ‘perfect’ for the bait, since he could ‘easily’ pretend to be a foolish teenager with a lot of coin. It hadn’t been too hard to turn him into the prideful mercenary they needed, at least in terms of appearance. His orange and black striped bandana, which he usually wore tucked inconspicuously in a pocket, was tied boldly around his neck, and he had a bulging coin pouch dangling from his belt.
“Trust me,” Tysonn had said. “You’ll be irresistible. To pickpockets at least.”
‘Yeah,’ Viren thought now. ‘Real reassuring.’
He spun around slowly, trying to find Rickson. The other members of his team were hiding in the crowd, ready to pounce on a potential thief as soon as they targeted Viren. He finally spotted Rickson in the crowd standing next to a well. Rickson motioned for him to get going. Viren sighed.
“Wow,” he boasted loudly to no one in particular. “Being a mercenary is so great.” He jingled the coin pouch. The crowds passed him by, uncaring. He did get a few odd looks. Viren spotted a group of kids around his age watching him. With what dignity he had left dying in agony, Viren walked up to them.
“I just got paid,” he proclaimed loudly. “Paid in coin. Coin that can be used to buy things.”
“How much coin?” A girl asked.
“Agnes,” a boy groaned. He obviously didn’t think much of Viren. Or at least his big-ego persona.
“A lot,” Viren said, paying no attention to the boy. “A very large amount.” A different girl rolled her eyes, and a few of the teenagers laughed.
“You see,” Viren continued, ignoring their varied levels of distain. “I am a mercenary, and mercenaries are very tough. Yes. In fact,” he said raising his voice louder. “In fact, I dare anyone to try and rob me. I will defeat—”
It seemed this blatant challenge (despite his probably poor acting) was finally too much for a thief to resist. He sensed the presence of the pickpocket behind him before he actually felt the coin pouch being lifted from his belt. Acting quickly, he whirled around and nailed the thief with a punch to the face. The thief reeled back, and before he could recover, he was surrounded be three other Tiger Claws who seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
“I don’t care that your plan worked,” Viren said to Tysonn flatly once the thief was secured. “I still hate it.”
…
The group dragged the protesting thief to an unassuming alley. Tysonn bound his hands and feet, and Marce held the tip of his blade two inches from the thief’s throat.
“What do you want with me?” the pickpocket asked with a mixture of frustration and suspicion. “If you were just busting me for trying to steal from your friend you would have already dropped me at the city hall.”
“That’s right,” Tysonn agreed. “We want the latest insider gossip.” The thief gave a harsh laugh.
“Gossip? You shoulda picked up one of the old wives for that. I can tell you of a good spot near West Gate Square.” Tysonn raised an eyebrow.
“We want to know about the thieves’ ring that’s been plaguing Emreld,” he said. The thief clammed up quick.
“You’re fools,” he said finally. “I don’t know anything about the ring.”
“We’re not fools,” Tysonn responded evenly. “We’re mercenaries. Experienced ones.” The thief frowned sullenly, his eyes darting from Tysonn to Viren to Marce’s sword.
“Aren’t you supposed to be the honorable ones?” the pickpocket grumbled. “You don’t know what happens to tattle-tales in the underworld.”
“I know more than you’d think,” Tysonn said. His voice was light, but Viren could hear a bit of tension in it. “We’ll take care of you—though you might not entirely like the solution. But right now, your choices are between our solution, and my buddy’s sword.” Viren knew that Tysonn was bluffing—but the thief didn’t.
“Fine,” the thief snapped. “What do you want to know?” Tysonn’s response was lightning-quick.
“I want names, descriptions, and everything you know about how the ring formed.” The pickpocket sighed.
“Fine,” he said again. “I’ve only got three names, though there are at least fifteen thieves, probably more. Dani, Shora, and Trixi.
I used to know Dani, we would exchange tips. He always had a knack for more than just picking pockets. He’s what we call a natural. Shora is from the capital. Rumor is, she crossed one of the big smuggling gangs and is hiding out in Emreld. I don’t know too much about Trixi.”
Rickson had pulled out a small notebook and was scribbling all this information down.
“As for how the ring formed,” the pickpocket continued, “the details are pretty shady. Supposedly, a fellow from the Fae kingdom—no one knows which province, exactly—heard that Opeali was rich when it comes to precious stones. He decided that Emreld was a good place to set up shop and started the ring. How it works—supposedly—is that each thief steals what they want, sometimes working together. Everything they steal is stashed away in their hideout somewhere. Once a month they somehow smuggle the goods out of the city and sell them in the capital. Each thief gets an equal cut.”
“Wait,” Viren said. “Each thief gets an equal cut? Even if one doesn’t steal as much as another?” The pickpocket nodded.
“They probably have some other rules and deals to ensure fair play,” Rickson said. Marce nodded in agreement.
“I don’t know anything else,” the pickpocket interjected. “What are you going to do with me now?”
“We’ll organize your transfer to a village,” Tysonn answered, glancing at Rickson. Rickson nodded. “You’ll serve out your sentence there,” Tysonn finished. The pickpocket frowned but didn’t protest. Maybe that had something to do with Marce’s sword still positioned at his throat.
The Tigers hauled the thief up and escorted him to the picnic area where the company had set up. Tysonn and Marce hustled the thief away, leaving Rickson and Viren behind. Rickson glanced at Viren. “I know the bandanna was just part of the disguise, but it looks good like that.”
“Wha—oh.” He had forgotten that he was still wearing the Tiger Claw bandanna around his neck. He reached his hand up, fiddling with the material. “Yeah. I guess I can keep wearing it like this for a bit.” Rickson smirked.
“You guess, huh?” Viren shrugged.
“Why don’t we try to see what the other teams learned,” he suggested.
“Sure, change the subject,” Rickson joked, but he started walking to where Brack was stationed. “We also ought to share what we learned. Tysonn and Marce are probably too busy taking care of our thief.” Viren nodded and moved to follow him.
“And,” Rickson continued with a wink, “maybe we can get our hands on some of the snacks Jobe and Bob bought.”
