The white moon returned to glow tenderly over the city of Redne. Past midnight, the city looked pitch-black, especially in residential and commercial districts which were filled with multi-storied buildings.

The citizens were sleeping inside their homes, leaving almost no light on, aside from occasionally passing of the night watchmen’s lamps.

All of that didn’t seem to discourage a few people from remaining active at this late hour. That including a certain someone wearing all black who was moving very rapidly, sneaking between the shadows of the buildings.

Said person paused for a while when a night watchman was spotted. She waited until he passed, then immediately dashed right behind the back of said man.

“W-what? Who’s there?”

The night watchman was a robust man of little facial hair, was surprised by the whooshing sound he just heard. He then turned left, right, and around, readying his pike. Since he found nothing, he simply sniffed, pulled back his pike, and continued with his patrolling.

“Heh, it’s a just a breeze.”

Elsewhere, the figure in black kept running without care until she reached a somewhat more open place. She climbed a tree to look at the surroundings. Trees stood like a parapet surrounding an area. In the middle of that area stood a red brick-walled, two storied and red roofed building, which in turn surrounded by a stone wall.

Faint dog barks were heard from outside the stone wall.

The black figure kept looking thoroughly at the back of the building. Her pointy ears were moving. Under the moon light, the figure and curves wrapped under the tight black suit became clear. It was a woman. Her hair sported ragged bangs at front, very long and braided at behind, reaching her hips. Her face was covered by a black veil, showing only a pair of sharp, glistering green eyes.

Now, that’s my target. My treasure, she thought. Maven, your star will shine brightly tonight. She could feel her hopeful heartbeat.

The wind from behind then blew her hair frontwards.

She then climbed down the tree just as fast as the wind, treading on the stone wall, jumping as far as she could and landed almost without a sound.

With her lighter-than-feather steps, she quickly sneaked behind the guards and their dogs. Eventually, she reached a small wooden door behind the building.

Maven then took out her lock pick, in the form of a two-progned needle-like piece of iron. She inserted the pick into the lock and turned it. The door was opened and she sneaked inside. Neither the guards nor their dogs realized what just happened. The first stage had been passed.

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Beginning the next phase, Maven quietly skulked inside the building. Occasionally she checked the map of the building she brought along. She climbed the stairs, moved through the hallway and arrived in front of a door. She checked for it to find out it had two locks. She paused briefly, then took out two lockpicks from the pocket on her belt. There was nothing as too well-prepared.

As Maven inserted both picks into both locks, suddenly a voice came. “Miss, who are you? What are you doing here?”

Maven reacted quickly, pulling out the dagger out the sheath on her thigh and pointed it at the neck of… a girl.

The little girl screamed.

“Make another voice and you’ll die,” Maven whispered, pushing her blade closer towards the girl’s neck.

Yet it was a little too late. A row of dim lamps were approaching. She heard rushing steps climbing the stairs. Maven looked left and right, then turned her green eyes upon the little girl in her custody.

She quickly ran for the edge of the stairs with her hostage. Five guards immediately surrounded her.

“Hey! What do you think you're doing? Let her go!” yelled a man with heavy, raspy voice.

Maven turned around. She noticed among the guards a short, chubby and slouchy man stood, he looked like a frog on two legs. He was pairly bald in the middle of his scalp.

“I’m warning you, mademoiselle!” Yelled the froglike, raspy-voiced man. “You put a scratch on my daughter and I shall chase you to the end of the world and make you pay back a hundredfold!”

The warning startled Maven. She then looked around once again before reassuring herself that there was no other froglike man around.

“I shall not harm your daughter if you will let me out.”

The frog-face sniffed. “Know your place! Your only option is to surrender here and now!”

The threat was real. The guards were restraining themselves to avoid hurting their own master's daughter, yet they were surely waiting for an opening.

Abruptly, Maven pushed the hostage toward her father while charging towards the opposite direction.

“Fool!” Said one of the guards as he swung his club. Yet Maven simply flip-jumped over his head and two other men.

Maven hastily landed on the edge and climbed down the spiraling stairs. On the first floor she tried to make for the front exit, but four men already guarded it. Soon hereafter, six other men appeared, surrounding her from every side, followed the five that she met earlier above.

Fifteen against one. It was by no means a fair set-up.

The sixteenth man immediately arrived at scene. He then spoke, “Hey, little girl. I’ve told you to surrender in peace. We don’t want to be a laughing stock of the town for ganging up against a girl like you.”

“Oh really? You must be Croac le Toadt, yes?”

“It's 'Baron Le Toadt' for you!” he shouted. “Tell me your name!”

“It’s a taboo for a thief to give away his own name.”

“Then you shall die here like a rat!” Croac yelled again. “Arrest her!”

Immediately, the fifteen guards jumped at her almost at the same time. Maven again flipped around to avoid the leading guard. The man behind her jumped very high to attack. In a fraction of a second she hooked the rear attacker at the nape, leaving him unconscious.

Six more guards charged at the same time. She avoided a swinging sword and club with one flip backward, landing herself on a table. She then jumped again to land a kick on one assailant's face.

Another guard managed to land his club on the thief’s right shoulder. Still in pain, Maven returned the favor with a kick in the crotch. Said man immediately collapsed in agony.

Maven wasted no time, thrusting towards yet another guard with her dagger. Said guard avoided, but it turned out the attack was a faint. Maven instead squatted and swept her feet to trip him down. He immediately fell. Maven then quickly landed an elbow on his face. “Good night,” she said.

When Maven rose up again, the remaining guards began to fall back slowly. Angered, The frog-face moved forward. He was wielding a machete, a choice of weapon that matches his stocky posture.