Stricken
Name
Jurgen Stricker
Nickname
Stricken
Race/Nationality
Human/Hargon
Age
27
Daily Wage
4 pence
Action Stats
EXP Level
2
Action Points
4
Hit Points
18
Core Stats
Might
12
Agility
8
Grit
4
Intellect
3
Skills
Thievery, Cleaver (proficient)
Equipment
Weapons
Cleaver (damage 3-15)
Armour
None
Other
Mags
Name
Magnus Nold
Nickname
Mags
Race/Nationality
Human/Durnish
Age
28
Daily Wage
4 pence
Action Stats
EXP Level
2
Action Points
3
Hit Points
15
Core Stats
Might
6
Agility
4
Grit
7
Intellect
6
Skills
Thievery, Ambidextrous, Dagger (competent)
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Equipment
Weapons
Dagger (damage 2-8)
Armour
None
Other
Lockpicking and other tools of the trade
Murder
Name
Unknown
Nickname
Murder
Race/Nationality
Human/Alinko
Age
34
Daily Wage
1 pence
Action Stats
EXP Level
1
Action Points
2
Hit Points
12
Core Stats
Might
9
Agility
3
Grit
2
Intellect
1
Skills
[None]
Equipment
Weapons
Stick (damage 1-3)
Armour
None
Other
Kacker
Name
Harry Lypt
Nickname
Kacker
Race/Nationality
Human/Durnish
Age
33
Daily Wage
1 pence
Action Stats
EXP Level
1
Action Points
1
Hit Points
7
Core Stats
Might
3
Agility
3
Grit
3
Intellect
4
Skills
Thievery
Equipment
Weapons
None
Armour
None
Other
There were guards at the front, so they approached the rear of the warehouse under night’s cover. Mags got to his knees and inspected the lock on the door, before selecting the tools he needed.
Jurgen and the other two stood behind him. One was a silent statue, the other a jumble of shakes and ticks.
The brick wall of the warehouse defended them from the biting wind that came in off the sea. It whistled through the holes in the building, loud enough to cover any noise they made. And yet, Jurgen had the feeling they were being watched.
Mags fumbled with the locks, cursing under his breath. It was a pathetic sight, and Jurgen’s contempt made his hand itch for the handle of his cleaver.
Mags turned around, as if he sensed it. ‘Why am I the only so-called thief among us who actually owns any tool of the trade, eh?’
Jurgen stared at him. What was he hoping to achieve with the comment? Jurgen hated pointless blather, perhaps more than anything else. He didn’t understand why people felt the need for it.
Mags looked away and resumed his work, grumbling under his breath. Each murmur; every clack of tongue on teeth; every time those wet lips met; set Jurgen on edge.
At last, the one-handed fool got the door open and they entered the warehouse. It was dark, the only light seeping through occasional holes in the ceiling and walls. But if there was one thing any thief was good at, it was moving about in the dark.
The giant fool kicked something that skittered along the floor, then let out a pitiful ‘Mada.’
‘Hush!’ hissed Mags.
It wasn’t a noise; just some undefinable sense that alerted Jurgen. He took his cleaver in hand. ‘There’s people in here,’ he whispered. ‘Waiting for us.’
‘Then let’s scarper,’ Kacker whispered back.
‘No. We need to get the weapons.’ The drugged fool was almost totally useless, but at least he’d be able to carry things.
Jurgen led them farther into the warehouse. Shelving reached from floor to ceiling, with gaps between each row. It was like a maze, and somewhere within were the prizes they had come for. Somewhere, too, were the defenders.
As this concept came to his mind, a plan formed, and a thrill ran down his body.
He gestured to his three companions to continue towards the centre of the warehouse, while he took a different route.
Instantly, Jurgen felt more comfortable. He was no longer the prey, but had become the hunter once more.
He could hear the three fools shuffling about. They would attract whoever was inside the warehouse, and Jurgen would pounce.
The excitement of the chase consumed him, the mission set by Stiff now completely subsumed to the goal of killing his enemies. Jurgen imagined himself following the three fools. He envisaged how close he would get; what route he would take; when he would ambush them. It revealed to him the likely locations of his targets.
He crept this way then that, coming from behind. Despite the care he took, he came close to walking into his target. The figure was crouched at the end of a row of shelving, listening to the progress of Jurgen’s crewmates.
Waiting patiently for the moment to strike, it didn’t cross the guard’s mind that someone might be stalking him.
ACTION ROUND
Warehouse Guard
Human
Guard
Action Stats
EXP Level
2
Action Points
3
Hit Points
16
Jurgen used an action point to creep closer. He needed to get his cleaver in range. He could make out the line of a cudgel in his target’s right hand—longer than his own weapon, it would cause him problems if he didn’t get the first strike in.