A Curse so Twisted And Cruel.

The Ruiners.

"Jass!"

A harsh voice yanks me out of my nonsensical dreams. My eyes snap open, and I sigh, stretching.

"Whadayawant?" I grumble, turning over and shutting my eyes.

"I want damn breakfas' is what I want." The voice informs me, and I hear a pebble roll near my head.

"You really need to work on your aim, and your language." I reply, yawning again.

"I won' have to if you get us somefink to eat." The voice retorts.

"Get it yourself." I mutter under my breath, before finally sitting up, to face the mini troll glaring at me.

I roll my eyes, kick the others awake, and climb the worn stairs, to go through the grassy trapdoor in the ceiling, and into the castle ruins above.

The brilliant sunlight hits my face, and I let it seep into me, flooding the crevices of my skin.

"Would you mind moving? You're blocking the traffic." Someone grumbles from under me.

I quickly step away from the trapdoor, and a short, bony half-goblin tumbles out of it, groaning about how unjustifiably
bright the sun is.

I shake my head, a smile pulling at my lips, before moving to help him to his feet, but he backs away from me, and gets up himself.

"Unlike the others, I have a perfectly functioning brain to assist me in standing up by myself." He assures me, dusting himself off.

I chuckle at him, earning myself the second glare today.
Then I turn to help the tiny pixie, the stubby troll, and the half-fairy out of the trapdoor.

The half-goblin, whose name is Gnarl, is the mastermind of our operations, with a quick brain and even quicker fingers.

The troll, whose name is Vin, (but who we all call V) is our protector (and potential beater-upper).

Lira is the half-fairy, half-elf, and she's the flop proof distraction. (she only has to bat her long lashes for the men to melt.)

Small Silvey is the pixie prankster, and her head is always full of ideas to ruin someone's day. (And somehow, it's mostly mine.)

And finally, there's me. I'm a half-human, half-elf, and the others all think of me as the mother hen of the group.
Which I suppose I am, having practically brought them up.

We call ourselves The Ruiners, (no, I don't care what you think.) and together, we make it on Elfairs most wanted thieves list.

We live in the cellar of an ancient castle ruin, (which we call the Fort) and most of us were abandoned here by our birth parents, due to us being halflings.
(Halflings are usually killed in Elfair.)

So we made do with what we could nip from passers by, and, through practice, mastered the skill of moving stealthily, finding excellent hiding spots, and being able to smell wealth. (Every perfume tells a story.)

So we live quite comfortably for a bunch of orphaned halflings. Also, you know that saying; 'There is no honour among thieves.'
Well, whoever wrote that clearly was not a thief, having no knowledge on the subject.

We are a family, forged of hunger, abandonment, and the mutual goal of, well, not starving to death, and we would sacrifice everything for each other.
(Except maybe a fizzy bean.)
(Just kidding.)

With these thoughts pulling a smile on my face, I leap over the crumbling bricks that once was a magnificent archway, and race down the hill, atop which, the last remaining tower of the castle looms.