Connor looked at the sword hanging from Nicholas’ rig and hummed. “Do you have anything you’d like to talk about?”

“You talking about this?” he said as he pulled Soulbane from its scabbard.

“Yes, the enchanted sword that used to be carried by Landis.” Connor was not amused.

“I was visited by Magus, and he, I mean she, wants us to fight evil and defend the people of Kronos. The first thing we have to do is deal with this ring of thieves.”

“Where’s my sword?”

“Are you sure about this?” Connor asked. They crouched behind a pile of garbage outside what looked like a rundown hotel. “What if he doesn’t believe that he really escaped?”

“You questioned him with me. He’s an idiot. We gave him enough slack in his bonds to easily break free when we both happened to ‘fall asleep’ at the same time.”

“If he tells them that he was captured, then broke free and ran back to their lair, they’ll probably kill him.”

“I don’t believe in death for simple thievery, but it’s not like he’s a friend or anything.”

“That’s pretty cold,” Connor grumbled. A few seconds later, “OK, I think I see movement.” Connor pointed to flickering candlelight in a second-floor window. “Think we can get closer? I can’t see anything.” He looked around to see Nicholas knocked out, lying against the shell of a broken barrel.

“You boys are sneaking around where you’re not wanted.” The female voice was punctuated by the press of a cold steel blade to Connor’s throat.

“You didn’t have to knock him out,” Connor said, looking at Nicholas’ prostrate form.

“Oh, but I did. I can handle one of you, but two of you might be too much for me. What’s your name, and his name, and who are you guys?” she demanded.

“Connor Kyle and my friend there is Nicholas Major. We’re simple sellswords.”

“Somehow, I doubt that. Your gear is first-rate, and worth a small fortune. The sword your friend carries looks to be an expensive piece. I think I’ll need it to compensate me for this diversion. And for having to change our hideout. This one is no longer viable.”

“We’re here because one of your men stole from us. A pouch of coins. If you take my friend’s sword, there is no place on earth where you’ll be able to hide. Are you Charity?”

“That little rat really spilled his guts! I should gut him, but when we move, I’ll just forget to tell him where the new hideout is. Aside from that, you guys are not simple sellswords.”

“Perhaps not.” Connor moved faster than a man his size should be capable of. He broke her hold without getting his throat slit. He spun around and grabbed her wrist in a vice-like grip. She was in shock, as she was not accustomed to being bested at close combat. He looked her over and was surprised to find that she was a fairly attractive younger woman. At least he thought she was younger. She was nearly as tall as he was, with shoulder-length light brown hair, delicate features, and pale skin. What was most remarkable was her ears. He hadn’t met an elf since the final battle against the Lords of Shadow almost three years ago. She wore a white silk shirt and leggings, with a light green head scarf and short cloak. For a thief, he was surprised that she wore a steel breastplate, fitted to a modest bust and frame, along with plate pieces on her shins, forearms, knees, and elbows.

“You like what you see?” she asked, trying to pull her arm away.

“No, not particularly. Maybe Nicholas might find you attractive.”

“Normally I would, but cracking me on the back of the head doesn’t work in your favor,” Nicholas said. She turned around to see Nicholas getting to his feet and rubbing the back of his head.

Spinning around in his grasp, she was able to break his grip, and instantly, she had two long knives, one in each hand. Holding them out, she took up a defensive stance. Nicholas pulled Soulbane from its scabbard, and the blade gave off a soft glow in the near dark.

“What is that?” she asked, startled by the appearance of a magical weapon.

“This is Soulbane, given to me by Magnus himself,” Nicholas said. There was warmth coming from the blessed sword and it slowly traveled up through his arm to the rest of his body. “I feel the sword healing me!” he said aloud. Touching the spot on the back of his head, he could feel that the lump had gone down, and it was no longer tender.

“Is that one of the Blades of the Colossus? You’re one of the heroes that helped to defeat the Lords of Shadow?” she asked in astonishment.

“I am the new champion. The previous owner of this sword lost the use of his good right arm in that battle,’ he said putting the sword away. “We were both at that battle, saving both your people and ours from the Shadow Lords,” Nicholas said, indicating himself and Connor.

She lowered her blades and bowed to them. “I cannot fight against those who helped to free my people.”

“That’s all well and good, but we’re tasked with stopping the explosion of crime here in Mirren. I’ve heard about thieves teaming up to pull a heist, but forming a Thieves Guild?”

“I’ve always worked independently, but I was approached by this man who was putting together a guild, a way to structure and organize the stealing here in Mirren, and in Kronos. Because I engage in more ‘active’ forms of pilfering, I was given the rank of Swift Dagger.”

“We’re going to break up your guild here in Agron. Give us the name of the one who started your guild, and we can part friends,” Connor said, still holding his sword. She stood there; knives held towards the two soldiers. Slowly she lowered them, then put them in sheaths at her belt.

“Normally I wouldn’t tell you anything, regardless of how much you might torture me, but I have little love for the goat men. They take the lion’s share of our profits and still, they treat us worse than slaves.”

“Goat men? Your guild was started by a Mavit Tomar?” Connor finally put his sword away.

“He says his name is Dex, but I’m sure that’s not his given name. He has four lieutenants that are of the same breed. They rule with an iron fist and have no love for elves or humans.”

“Let us know where to find this Dex. We are going to dismantle the guild here in Mirren. You may want to seek happier hunting grounds,” Nicholas said. “You might even want to go straight. I’m sure you’d make it as a sellsword.”

“Too many rules. I’m already feeling strangled by the control the guild has over me. Look into the Black Rhino, a pub near the city center. You’ll find that it's under new management.” With that, she darted off into the woods and was gone.

The Black Rhino was not what they were expecting. The pub had three levels, the first was the main bar, the second floor was reserved for important persons, and the third level was off-limits to all but the owner and managers. When they approached the front entrance, two extremely large men guarded the door and decided who could and could not enter.

“I don’t know you,” the man to the left said, looking down at them. “You soldiers are in the wrong place; this is an exclusive establishment.”

“I thought that this was a pub. Aren’t pubs for anyone who can pay?” Nicholas asked.

“Not this one. Get lost!”

Nicholas and Connor looked at each other. No matter how big these men were, they would be cut down as easily as any man.

“That’s fine. I don’t think I want to go to a pub owned by those goats. That’s disgusting!”

“Yeah!” Nicholas added. “Not sure how you boys can work for those smelly, hairy… animals!” The two of them burst into a fit of laughter.

“You two don’t need to be dispargin the Major!” one of the guards growled. He swung at Connor who easily ducked the haymaker. He punched the man in the gut with his armored gauntlet on. Air left the man’s lungs, and he doubled over in pain. Connor followed up with a crushing right cross that put the man’s lights out. The other guard made to help his partner but halted when he felt cold steel pressing on his shoulder. With a mighty bellow, he lunged at Nicholas, who sidestepped and brought his sword down on the man’s head. The blade was aimed at the top of his bald dome, but at the last second, twisted in Nicholas’ hand to crash against the back of his head. The man dropped like a stone.

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“Landis told me that his sword had an enchantment that changes its trajectory to cause a fatal strike. Apparently, when you desire to knock out your opponent, it alters your swing to maximize the strike.”

“Well, good for you. Let’s get to work,” Connor said as they walked over to the guards and entered the pub.

Inside, it was like a different world. All of the patrons had on the finest clothes, the kind of garments worn by lords or leaders of industry. Scantily clad women walked about the very dark room carrying trays heavy with drinks and tasty morsels. The people clustered in small groups, picking at the passing trays and touching the servers as they passed. There was a bar at the far corner and round tables filled most of the floor.

“I think I need a drink,” Nicholas said as he started for the corner.

“I’ll mingle,” Connor walked over to join a small group of men who were deep in conversation. He entered their space and said nothing, trying to pick up on what they were talking about.

“It’s the best place in town, I swear. The girls are young, and the finest you’ll ever find,” said one man, his blonde beard was cut short, his hair was long, and his suit was tailored and expensive.

“You know me, I like them young. I hope you can get me an introduction,” said one of the others in the group. They suddenly turned to Connor, just noticing that he’d joined their conversation. “Excuse me, who are you?”

“No one special. I’m new in town, just trying to unwind,” he said smiling at the men. Their faces showed that they were caught off guard and were not pleased to have been intruded upon. They looked over Connor from head to foot and found him lacking.

“Are you sure that you’re in the right place friend? You look more like a common soldier than a member of the Rhino club.”

“I’m thinking of joining. I wanted to see what the clientele was like here. Unfortunately, I find it to be… undesirable.” The men realized that they’d been insulted and puffed up with anger, but Connor pulled his cloak away from his side where he carried his sword. He tapped lightly on the Pommel of his sword, never breaking eye contact with the men. He was not dressed in expensive clothing, but what he wore showed him for what he was. A fighting man. Each of the men calmed themselves and melted into the crowd. With a smile to himself, Connor went to join another conversation.

“Whiskey,” Nicholas said to the barman. The man gave him an appraising look, then poured him a healthy shot in a glass cup. Nicholas downed the shot as he looked around the back of the establishment. Across from the bar in the far corner was a staircase going up. Two large men stood guarding the stairs, short swords at their sides. “I’ve not been to Mirren before today. Is this place typical here?”

“It’s a new pub, only been here for a year or so. Bit of an exclusive crowd that comes here.”

“And you let me drink without hassle?”

“I’ve been tending bars for decades. I know trouble when I see it. No doubt, there will be some drama before the night is over. I’m fine to be just an observer.”

“Good decision. Who owns this place?

“He gives the name Dex. He’s one of those Mavit Tomar. You won’t see him down here; he doesn't even come every day. Another one of his kind, a woman named Dayla, comes down every night, her tail swishing in the air, and counts the till. They run the place, but they stay on the third floor and don’t mix with humans.”

“What’s on the second floor?”

“There are a lot of people in this room that think they are men of power. The men on the second floor are men of power. If you’ve never been around powerful people, it can be a bit intimidating.”

“I’ve traveled in some pretty elite circles. I think I’ll be alright.” He finished his drink and walked towards the stairs. The two guards looked at him and immediately decided that he was not qualified to head up to the second floor.

“I have some business to attend to upstairs. I don’t suppose you boys would be willing to let me pass?’

They both drew their swords and started swinging. They connected at the same time with Nicholas’ upturned sword. In the blink of an eye, he had drawn his sword and blocked their swings. The man on his left wore only leather armor and was about his height. He had the dark hair of the northern countries in Kronos. Gritting his teeth, he began swinging his sword in earnest. The man on the right also wore leather armor and had long brown hair, pulled tight in a tail. They both wore their beards short. Nicholas kicked the man on his right, collapsing his knee and knocking him ungracefully to the ground. The room was alive with the shouts of the patrons, shocked that they were witness to a sword fight in their midst. Nicholas focused on the man on his left, his intention to disarm him. The guard lunged forward, intent on skewering Nicholas, but Nicholas wrapped his armored arm around the blade and slammed the pommel of his sword on the man’s wrist. The blade popped out of his grasp and Nicholas followed up with a pommel strike to the forehead. The guard crumpled unconscious to the ground, just as the other guard was regaining his feet. They traded blows for several seconds before the man jerked sharply and fell to the ground. Connor was standing behind him, his sword out.

“Quit fooling around, we need to get upstairs,” Connor admonished.

“I had him.”

“I know you did. Now let’s go.”

They bounded up the stairs to the landing then stalked up the next flight of stairs till they were on the second level. The customers had heard the clash of steel from the lower deck, and most were cowering, waiting to be cut down by whatever danger was coming for them.

“What are you men doing here?” Said a well-dressed man standing in the middle of the room. “I’m Marwin Baal, and if that means anything to you, you’ll turn tail and flee immediately!” He was a man who was used to being recognized and given the respect he felt due his station. Marwin was in his early forties and stood six feet tall. He was pale and had short, curly brown hair that framed his perfect features. His shirt was made of the finest white silk, shining in the dim candlelight, and his pants and boots were made of fine deerskin leather.

“Are you members of the Thieves Guild?” Connor asked.

“He’s founder and owner of the Baal Boatwerks,” a tall woman next to him remarked. “Of course, he’s not part of some thieving organization.” She was even fairer than Marwin and quite beautiful. What was perhaps most striking about her was that she dressed like a man. She had shoulder-length black hair that was pulled tight in a ponytail, and she wore what looked like some type of military uniform or noble attire. Her dark blue coat had wide gold trimmed lapels and epaulettes, with bright brass buttons. She wore skin-tight white pants that were tucked into knee-high, military-style boots. At her side, she had a sheathed rapier.

“That’s fine miss,” Connor started.

“Lady Latisha Panka to you, ruffian!”

“Whatever,” Nicholas cut in. “We’re going upstairs to deal with some foreigner named ‘Dex”. He has a lot to answer for.”

“Dex? The Mavit Tomar gentleman?” she asked incredulously. “Unlike you, he’s quite the gentleman. Good breeding and such.”

“More like inbreeding, if you ask me. There is a thieves’ guild here in Mirren and from what I can see, it looks like he’s the head of it,” Nicholas said while pushing past them.

“I don’t know who you are, but you’ve no right to interfere with this establishment or any of the people here.” She was indignant now, her hand on her sword.

“Take your hand off your weapon and shut up,” Connor said brusquely. The woman was mortified by the disrespect. “There are some real scumbags downstairs, and they are going to be looked at, closely. I can only assume that you people are even worse. Don’t be here when we come back down.”

Pushing through the crowd, they reached the stairs and went up them two at a time. They hit the landing and when they turned, saw that a half dozen Mavit Tomar guards were waiting with weapons drawn. They wore round helmets with cutouts for their curling rams' horns. They wore brass chest plates and carried pikes with short swords at their waists. The guards had light grey fur, and a few towards the back had white fur.

“What are you doing here, human? This floor is not for you!” the guard in front snarled at them. “Get back downstairs and leave this premises immediately!”

“This is Kronos, not Polaris. We are sent by Lord Ewald to investigate the rash of crime here in Mirren, and we can damn well go wherever we please!” Connor replied. “Put down your weapons, or we’ll put you down.”

The lead guard lunged forward, pike thrusting down at Connor. He easily brushed it aside with his gauntleted left arm and pushed the point of his sword through the man’s neck. Blood bubbled out of his mouth and soaked his light grey hide. Nicholas came up on the right and sliced through three pikes at the same time. The hallway was too narrow to accommodate more than two of the guards attacking at the same time. The Mavit Tomar guards weren’t completely unskilled, but they were no match for the human soldiers. Soulbane practically sang in Nicholas’ hand as he carved his way up the flight of stairs. The blessed sword’s enchantment accentuated his already efficient moves, twisting slightly at the last moment to cause a fatal wound with almost every swing.

In mere minutes, they dispatched the guards and were confronted by a double door, made of solid wood with large brass handles. Pushing the dead figures away from the door, they entered to find the third floor to be set up as more of an office than a tavern. A dozen Mavit Tomar sat at desks, tending to books and ledgers. On the right side, there was a door that led into a large office space. The women screamed at the intrusion and seconds later, the office opened up and a tall Mavit Tomar man came out. His fur was bluish-white, his tail long and thin, and he was under six feet tall with large curling horns.

“What in Xoran is going on out here!” he demanded. He caught sight of the soldiers. “What are you two doing here? There are no humans allowed on this floor!”

“You take money from your human customers, and yet they aren’t good enough to even be present on the same floor as your offices?” Connor asked.

“I think he’s confused, Connor,” Nicholas said. “This is Kronos, these are human lands. You may be able to discriminate in Warfield, where you smelly bastards come from, but not here.”

“I demand that you leave right now! Meera! Where is my security?”

“Are you talking about those goatfuckers out in the hall? They attacked us, so we defended ourselves.” The man looked both shocked and furious at the same time. “Are you ‘Dex’?” Nicholas asked.

“My name is Dex Mendel; I own this establishment.”

“You’re also the head of the local Thieves Guild,” Connor said stepping to the man and grabbing his arm. “You’re coming with us.”

“Thieves’ Guild? That’s a lie, pure fiction!” he sputtered. “Leave now, I’ll have the local lord string you up by the gonads!”

“We’re sent by the local lord. By order of Lord Ewald, we arrest you for crimes against the citizens of Mirren and Agron,” Connor said as he wrenched the man’s arms behind his back. Nicholas put irons around his wrists and set the bolt. The man continued to spit and threaten, but they ignored him and bodily dragged him down the two levels to ground level. The rich and famous all stared impotently as he was frog-marched out the front door and into the street.