UMBRIEL

4. Operation: Heist

The sun was setting behind them, Umbriel and Val walked confidently through the gate into town. For the past four days, Umbriel had been resting and gathering his strength at Valerie's cabin. His wound had almost completely healed, however, it had left behind a nasty and rugged scar.

Val's eyes lit up as they passed the market stalls. "Umbriel, look! They sell knives here!" She slapped his arm excitedly, pointing towards one of the many vendors.

"Yeah, yeah, I see them. Don't get distracted, we're not here to screw around." He picked up his pace, eager to do some recon on the enemy's base of operations.

"But there's so much cool stuff! Can't we please just look around a bit?" She pleaded, tugging at his shirt.

"I swear, you act way too much like a child." He kept his eyes forward, not giving in to Valerie's childish pleas. "We need to get to the guild hall as soon as possible and find that ledger."

Several minutes passed, and not a word was spoken between them. It was then that Umbriel noticed that he heard no footsteps following behind him. He stopped and spun around, Val was gone.

Valerie strut happily through the legion of market stalls, the many scents of spices and meat filled the air. She stopped in front of a stand, behind which stood an old man lying a heap of daggers across the table. "They're beautiful!" She gasped in delight. "How much are they?" She asked.

The old man chuckled, "Whoa there, calm down, what's a pretty young elf like you need a knife for?"

"I just so happen to collect them!" She replied. "So, about the price?"

He looked her up and down, taking in her beauty and charm, and paying no heed to her words.

"Um, excuse me? Did you hear me?" She waved her hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his trance.

Before he could continue creeping Val out, three large brutes walked up and shoved her aside. "You got our money, old man?" The biggest one asked, slamming his hands down on the table.

"What? B-but I already paid you," the man stammered, "I had it sent to your boss by messenger."

"Messenger? We didn't get no messenger, did we, boys?" The two others, scrawny as skeletons, sneered and shook their heads. The large one looked back at the shopkeeper. "Well then, if you don't have our money..." He trailed off, waiting for the old man to offer something up.

The vendor shoved his pile of silver-plated daggers towards the goons, hands trembling in fear. "Here, t-take these." The men looked the blades over, and content with their haul, they laughed and hurriedly tossed the knives into a burlap sack.

The largest goon grinned at the poor man, "Pleasure doing business with you." He mocked. The thugs turned and left, melding into the crowd and disappearing.

The elderly shopkeeper sighed, and began packing up his remaining valuables.

Annoyed, Val leaned over the stall, "Whoa, what?! So they get all the daggers and I don't even get one?!" She spat angrily.

"Listen, darlin', you're cute and all, but you're not worth dying over." He picked up his bag and hurried away, ducking into an alley and out of sight.

"Hey! Get your old ass back here!" She sighed, pissed. "Ugh, well fuck." She mumbled. Val turned back towards the crowd, standing up on her toes and combing over the masses of people. She spotted a tall and brutish man, the same one who took her daggers. "There you are, bitch." She rushed took off in his direction, shoving her way through the crowds.

Finding herself in front of a bar, she peered through the panes of the murky windows she could see the same three men inside, drinking their fill of mead and laughing at their mighty victory over the frail old man. "Gotcha!" She smiled and pushed her way through the thin wooden door.