Remy Thalos, for all his noble pride, found his knees trembling. He'd followed the dashing man down dark alley after dark alley, viewing the man as nothing more than a wallet for him to take as he pleased.

Only too late did he realize that he had stepped into a snare. The two large men with big knives were dispassionate about their task, as though well practiced in violence.

And behind the dashing man was only a brick wall. There would be no running from this.

"Are you prepared to die?"

The question hung in the air and Remy thought of the mansion he'd grown up in. The doting family and an excessive number of servants.

He'd given it all up for independence and this is where it led him.

Remy calmed his heart, stilled the trembling in his body, and raised the knife he held in a white-knuckled grip. He wouldn't survive this. But, he might be able to take the dashing man out with him.

The man with his salt and pepper hair cocked his head to the side, taking a long look at the defiant Remy.

The tension in the air threatened to snap at any moment. One false move could start a tragedy.

But, despite the serious expression on Remy's face. And the aggressive stance trained into him throughout his youth. He felt his heart almost give out when the dashing man let out a bellowing laugh.

The older man slapped his thighs, somehow thinking the sight of Remy preparing for his final stand the funniest thing in the world.

"Hahaha! Hoooo. Boy, you're an interesting one."

While Remy was stunned by the man's bizarre action, the man began walking towards him.

Caught off guard, Remy allowed the man to walk past him and between the pair of bruisers guarding the exit to the alley.

Cursing himself inwardly for allowing the man to escape, Remy turned back to the trio.

The dashing man patted the bruisers on the shoulders and continued walking a few steps before looking over his shoulder.

"C'mon, I'm thirsty. Lets get a drink."

Remy's lips twitched, unsure of how to react to the spontaneous invitation.

As the dashing man continued to walk his pair of beefy bodyguards stepped to either side of the alley and continued to look at Remy with hostile eyes.

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Swallowing the lump in his throat, Remy hesitantly put away his knife. It's not like it would do him any good anyway.

With a faltering step, the young noble thief walked between the towering men and out the street, following in the footsteps of the man he'd only minutes ago intended to rob at knifepoint.

As he walked into the open, Remy saw many paths of escape. Surely, with his nimbleness, he could outrun the bruisers. Yet, despite his instinct to flee, a certain curiosity had struck him as to the identity of the older man. He seemed to be someone important, at least important enough to have guards.

Remy silently followed the dashing man into the bowels of the city of Zales.

Soon, he realized that he was even more lost than when he'd found himself in the trap. The buildings were marginally more dilapidated than the areas he'd known before. Perhaps, this could be considered the slums.

And yet, the dashing man kept walking.

In the heart of the slums, he found himself before a grate leading underground.

Remy's nose wrinkled at the smell coming from the sewers. Was this really where his adventure had led him?

The dashing man smirked as he looked at the young man.

"Not used to the smell of shit, are you? Don't worry. You get used to it."

Remy couldn't help but think that he had no desire to get used to such a thing.

Nonetheless, he dutifully followed as he was led into the black.

He stumbled a bit in the dark. But, just as he began to fear that there would be no light in this God-forsaken place. A low orange light reached his eyes. A torch could be seen flickering in the darkness.

As they drew closer, Remy could see his boots, finer than most, splattered with unbearable filth. This brought up great sorrow in the soft man's heart. But, he had no time to lament.

By the torch, a metal door with a slit at eye level stood silently, barring further movement.

The dashing man knocked on the door at a series of intervals and the slit slid open.

"Password," came a gruff voice.

The older man didn't hesitate as he said, "Where shadows creep."

Several locks were released and the door swung open.

They were greeted by a pair of wiry-haired men who smiled familiarly.

"Corbin, what brings you down to Shadow Den? Words been going around that you'd forgotten us common folk."

The dashing man named Corbin smiled ruefully. "I think it's the other way around. Seems people have forgotten who I am. I was even jumped recently.

"Hehaha!" the pair of men chuckled. "Who's stupid enough to do that?"

Remy feels a sinking sensation, feeling even dumber than he had been.

Corbin shrugs, "Just some rookie. Anyways," he says, "I've got a date with Angie's. I'll see you boys soon."

The men nod as they lock the metal door behind them.

The group continues their travel down pipes that are free of excrement and enter a bustling subterranean environment with squat shacks and buildings built of stone rising to the ceiling of the squat cavern.

Corbin leads the party through the streets, with all their merchants and customers. Finally, they come to a stone building with a sign showing a pair of mugs held in crossed skeleton arms.

They enter and are greeted by the sound of raucous revelry.

Corbin finds a table where a man entertains a woman and stands there for a moment.

The man waves them off without looking up. But, the woman bristles and stands in a hurry.

"What the hell. Who do you think you a-?"

The man swallows his words as Corbin smiles a toothy grin down at him.

The man puts on a placating smile and stands up hastily.

"C-Corbin. Hi. J-Just keeping your spot warm for you."

Corbin says nothing and watches as the man and woman hastily leave the pub.

Remy watches it all with growing anxiety.

As they all sit, Corbin looks across the table at Remy. His smile seemed all the more sinister.

"Now," he says. "We should have a proper talk. Don't you think?"

Remy swallows with some difficulty and takes a shaky breath.