Stone houses sat clustered together, thin walkways and alleyways separating their carved slab walls as moss and vines scrambled up and across each building like garlands. Peacock wedged himself tighter into the shadows of his chosen alleyway. A couple of lengths in front of him, two plate-mailed humans with swords and shields walked out of one of the houses. Both of them moved a short distance away before stopping to carry on their animated conversation in their guttural language. Peacock didn’t have to understand them to know what they were talking about.
Every third and fourth day of the week, the two of them waited outside their house in Krinios for their team’s healer, who lived on the other side of the jungle city. Once she arrived, they’d leave for the day, giving Peacock free access to their home. Well, almost free access.
Peacock watched as a city guard marched across cobblestone pathways in his jungle-themed attire of a hide loincloth and colorful beads. Dark brown cords of wood and vines flexed in place of muscles, the vibrant green moss climbing his body an echo of the buildings surrounding him. A stone mask hid the guard’s face, bearing a geometric design which Peacock assumed had meaning, though what, he didn’t know. Regardless, the guard was a Plantfolk in regional clothing, which meant one thing—he was an NPC.
NPC guards, like in most games, stuck to predictable paths. With the humans’ last, impressive haul, Peacock had feared the warriors would splurge on a Rebirth to guard their house, or a high-tier warding spell. Fortunately, they seemed content with the basic safety measures of the city and a lower-tier ward. They were about to regret it.
A robed Smallfolk appeared on the stone path, muttering as she moved toward the two warriors.
Peacock perked up. Although Ferret and Cormac spoke Draconic, Ferret had also taught Peacock the Smallfolk language.
“Just a bit more, and I can afford a better ward,” she said as she drew near her teammates. She’d been muttering about some mysterious object for the last couple of days.
Peacock’s heart sped up. If she wanted extra security, there was a good chance she had something she thought was worth the cost.
The healer’s teammates noticed her arrival, and the greetings began.
The itch of agitation rose as Peacock waited, forcing his body still. Cormac had said to only rob the house of the two warriors. It was on the outer edge of the city, far enough away from the main gate to not get a lot of foot traffic, close enough to a side gate for Peacock to slip in and out quickly. Still, the healer’s house wasn’t that far away. Peacock had followed her last week.
Cormac was the inside man, and after three weeks under his careful tutelage, Peacock had hit level twenty and was ready for the next molt. He didn’t need the extra risk, and Cormac’s plans kept his risk low. But Peacock was chafing under the insufferable arrogance of the Faefolk, as well as his insistence on an eighty percent cut of every job.
While Cormac didn’t have near the size of Nex, or the predisposition toward physical violence, he held far too much power over him and Ferret. The fact dug under Peacock’s skin like ground glass. The all too familiar feeling of hatred was growing again, giving him a boldness he didn’t have before.
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Changing up or botching a job Cormac had assigned was a no-go, but what if a single, unrelated item in a different place went missing, especially one new enough Cormac hadn’t heard of it yet? Still risky as hell, but maybe, if it was powerful enough, it’d be worth the risk.
Peacock took a deep breath. First things first. He had a vault to crack.
The warriors and the healer moved away, their animated conversation bouncing around the tight cluster of stone houses. Peacock waited until quiet settled over the residential area, then jumped into action.
He was out of his hiding place and at the warriors’ door in a flash. The door, same as everything else in the city, was carved from a solid piece of rock. Blocky spirals covered the entire surface. There were no hinges, handles, or locks. Not that it needed any.
Peacock held a hand up in front of the door and focused.
Blue haze appeared, silver thread undulating through it. The same, single ward that had protected the house when he’d checked the week prior. Fantastic.
Peacock let his eyes slide over the silver threads. All but one thread went dull as his lock-picking skill activated. The last thread shone even brighter, a beacon showing the weak link in the protective ward.
He imagined grabbing it, feeling it, testing the thread’s integrity down its length. A quarter of the way down, he found what he was looking for. The spot on the thread gave a little easier than it should have. Peacock squeezed a bit harder. If he was wrong or went too fast, his failure would alert the hulking plant guard to the break-in attempt. Peacock doubted his twenty levels would mean much in such a situation.
The thread gave more, then snapped in two.
Peacock exhaled, some of his tension fading as the rest of the silver threads unraveled. Soon, he was facing a bare stone door once again. The door slid open, disappearing into the left wall, and Peacock was in.
The inside of the house was, predictably, also made of stone, albeit with far less moss. Little more than a rectangle, its owners had used their space as best they could. Colorful tapestries and paintings covered the upper walls while chests, simple trunks, and drawers covered the lower. Two simple post beds occupied opposing corners in the back, with a round table on a rug adorning the center of the room.
Peacock homed in on a red treasure chest settled in the middle of the back wall. That was his target.
The ground glass feeling dug a little deeper under Peacock’s skin. He didn’t know how Cormac knew such intimate details of the house, and it haunted him to no end. The more he grew, the more he realized how narrow-minded his original idea of power was, and how much he still lacked.
As with the door, Peacock stuck his hand near the chest. Nothing happened. No wards. Peacock pushed up on the lid. It came up with a creak, revealing gold, silver, and bronze coins interspersed with rainbow-colored gems that came up to the rim.
Peacock’s marks weren’t as rich as the chest made them out to be. A small, dark silver box appeared above the treasure pile.
300g 540s 870c
10 gemstones
Peacock resisted the urge to empty the chest. It wasn’t a ton of money, but it would be a huge increase to his measly little, and currently pointless, hoard. But the higher the total value of what you stole, the more the NPC guards would investigate. Anything under one-hundred gold, and the guards wouldn’t care unless they caught you in the act.
Peacock withdrew ninety-nine gold with a sigh. Dragon hoards increased dragon stats, but only worked with large numbers. Thousands of gold, dozens of gems. The pittance he’d get after Cormac got his share would be barely a drop in the bucket. That’s why the warriors’ house wasn’t Peacock’s only stop.
He slipped out of the house and back into the dark alleys between stone buildings. The muscle-bound Plantfolk guard would be just at the outer loop of its patrol, making his getaway all too easy.
Peacock didn’t think about the presence of other thieves until he ran into one.