While much of Leyden had changed in the years since I had left, the lower quarter of the city was an exception to this apparent rule. Whereas many buildings in other areas had been replaced with stone, wood still propagated throughout the area. Whereas the streets were clean near the academies, the lower quarter much more closely mirrored Revlon with its filth.

The tell-tale signs of vice were still there, as well. From the more obvious ones – girls on the corners in brawls spilling out of taverns – to the less conspicuous but much more important features that denoted who controlled what in any given area. While Phillip was one of the most successful bosses in the city, even he couldn’t completely stamp out competition. Most of my early days learning skills such as thieving were spent robbing competitors of their goods, now that I recall.

Making my way to the Crimson Barrel mostly unmolested – I did have to bop a few urchins on the head for trying to steal my coin purse – I saw that the years had apparently been good to Phillip. While much of the Crimson Barrel remained the same, from the namesake barrels to the cards being played in its belly, the place itself had grown. It appeared to have consumed some of the nearby buildings and, as a result, drew even more patrons than I had ever seen in my two years spent there.

Approaching the stairs that led to Phillip’s personal working space, I noticed that he had increased the number of guards located throughout the building. Perhaps with the increased success came increased competition.

“I’m Ren, Phillip called for me,” I said to the guard closest to the stairs.

A large man, not as large as Eric, but then most weren’t, he sent a second man up to confirm that I was needed before turning back to me. “Ren, huh? So the prodigal son returns? From the rumors, I had heard you never wanted to come back here. Why do it, then?”

Shooting the man a glare that I wouldn’t have dared to send eight years ago, I replied “Phillip’s a bad man to piss off. I felt I owed him the courtesy of hearing what he has to say when he hasn’t reached out to me in six years.” Cracking a smile as I continued, “Besides, as I’m sure you know, money talks. I at least want to hear about a chance to get paid, even if I don’t take it.”

Just as I finished speaking, the second man returned and said something to the guard I had just been talking with. With a quick nod, I was ushered up towards the second floor of the Crimson Barrel before ending up in front of Phillip’s office.

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As I walked in, I couldn’t help but recall the first time I had entered this office almost eight years ago. Compared to my first meeting with the man, which I later found out had occurred in a very discreetly located room that was often used for quite unpleasant conversations, my first trip to his office had been exceedingly courteous. I had been assigned some of my early training, focusing on the particulars of lock picking, but I, more importantly, had gotten some insight into what kind of man Phillip was. At the time, his office was almost Spartan. There was none of the expected gaudy style that should come from a wealthy crime boss. Rather, it had appeared to me that I had stepped into the office of some clerk back at the academy. As I would come to learn, however, this simplicity fit Phillip perfectly. He didn’t view wealth as an end, but a means. Wealth, influence, control; all were tools to achieve power. Then, his office had reflected that mentality.

Now, the place was much the same. Orderly, but almost barren of any comfort. The only change was the number of books. That is to say, he had at some point over the six years acquired and filled several bookshelves full of books. While I couldn’t get a close look at them, it appeared many dealt with political records – laws and the like – as well as genealogies.

As I walked in, Phillip looked up and said in his usual faux-cheerful voice, “Ren! My boy! It’s been far too long. How have you been?”

“The past few years have been kind. I’ve had no short supply of gullible merchants to trick and I’ve managed to find good company when I want.” Taking a more obvious look around the room, I added, “You’ve added a large number of books since the last time I was here, Phillip. What happened to the desolate office you used to keep?”

Showing me a half smile, he responded “Knowledge is power, my boy. With the influx of nobles over the past few years, I’ve been familiarizing myself with the last few decades of politics that have migrated over from Ostlyn ever since the old king died.” He laughed. “It makes it easier to plan jobs. You may need to do some reading on your own if you take this one. But please, sit.”

That caught my attention. And confirmed my suspicion that his offer would have something to do with the nobles now living in Leyden. If that were the case, I would have to study up on connections between the nobles before pretending to be anyone. I’d also be demanding more pay than I normally would.

After taking a seat, Phillip continued, “The job I have planned involves a few nobles as targets. Your part will be what you do best. You’ll assume an identity and get as much access as possible. You won’t actually be conducting the theft, however. You’ll be enabling someone else to handle that part.”

“Wait, I…” I began before Phillip cut me off.

“Hold your questions for a moment, I’ll give you the full details after we bring your partner in.” After motioning for a guard at the door to go get who I assumed to be my partner, Phillip smiled at me and said, “I think you’ll like her.”