Dalthan’s stained cotton clothes rustled around him when he rushed forward the moment Keysha lifted her bow from the wall. With superhuman speed, the [Sharpshooter] rose to her feet and launched an arrow toward the rogue. There was no anxiety in the huntress’ movement, nor any fear. Just the cold, calm efficiency of an experienced killer.

The [Rogue] dove forward, feeling the rush of wind across his back as Keysha’s javelin-sized arrow shrieked through the space he’d just vacated. With no thief to impale, the missile continued to scream across the room until it struck the far wall like a battering ram. Hunting trophies rattled in their mounts, and one deer’s head tumbled free, its long, majestic antlers snapping when it struck the floor.

A second arrow was in flight a split second after the first sank into the wall. It flashed harmlessly by the rogue as well, Dalthan’s sharp midair twist causing the arrow’s serrated tip to miss him by a hair's breadth. There would be no time for a third shot, not yet, for the thief hit the ground in a roll that carried him beneath the oak dinner table.

Settling onto his back, Dal ignored the massive arrow that sank into the floor beside him where Keysha thought he would emerge. Instead, the rogue remained under the table and planted his feet against the underside of the tabletop. A surge from his legs sent the table and all the assorted food tipping toward Keysha.

The thief enjoyed a moment of satisfaction as he heard her curse roundly while the pots and dishes rained down around her in a rain of cutlery and crockery. The moment was short-lived, passing in the blink of an eye as he rolled back the way he’d come. He knew Keysha would have to move, he was willing to bet that she’d retreat toward the center of the room instead of backing herself into a corner.

The shocked expression on Keysha’s face as she found herself standing within arm’s reach of him when he gracefully rose to his feet was proof enough that he’d bet right.

Like a striking viper, the dagger in his right hand snapped through the air, crossing the distance between the two fighters faster than the eye could follow. Fortunately for Keysha, she was a born warrior, one with reflexes sharp enough that she was leaning away from his strike the moment Dal had taken the initiative. Those instincts saved her life, limiting an attack that would have plunged his dagger into her neck to one that drew a shallow red line against her throat.

In retaliation, Keysha drove the tip of her arrow toward Dalthan’s chest, using it as one would a short spear. The rogue tsked as he backpedaled, retreating just far enough that the weapon’s jagged tip failed to pierce his shirt. He would have pressed his advantage, but he didn’t expect the [Sharpshooter] to swing her oversized bow like a club. Caught off balance, the thief was forced to deflect the blow with a forearm.

Wincing in pain, the thief skipped back another half step as he brought his dagger back into the ready position. “We can make this easy, Keysha.” The rogue’s voice was smooth as warm silk, but his emerald eyes held an air of detachment that was at odds with his friendly tone. “You can still walk out of here. You made a play and it didn’t work out. I won’t hold it against you.”

“Oh, so fucking charitable.” Keysha spat, her words coated in the vile venom of restrained violence. “I thought you were supposed to be turning over a new leaf? No more evil, you said. How does trying to murder me figure into that?” As the woman spoke, she continued to slowly backpedal further toward the center of the room, carefully avoiding the unmoving bodies as she went. She was now standing in a ring of broken furniture and one intact chair. The stairs to the second floor, along with a roaring fireplace, were behind her. “Guess you gave up on that shit as soon as it got inconvenient for you, huh?”

Dalthan blinked owlishly as he followed her, one silent step at a time. He kept his right shoulder forward, trying to protect his wounded arm as best he could. “Have you looked around? Murdering you right now would be good.” Dalthan gave the woman a bewildered look. “They wouldn’t even call it murder. They’d call it justice.”

Dalthan’s dark brows furrowed in consideration as he continued advancing toward her like a panther creeping up on a startled gazelle. “On second thought, maybe I should off you.”

“That’s not something a good person would say!” Keysha screamed, waving the tip of her arrow at him like a farmer threatening a stubborn mule with a stick. “What about the loot you’re so worried about? You think theft doesn't make you just as evil as we are?”

The rogue frowned, momentarily halting his advance. “You’re saying that I can’t steal from the rich? That can't be right. How else are you supposed to make money? You can’t steal shit from the poor because they don’t have anything.” Dalthan lazily waved his free hand toward the casualties laid out across the floor. “Besides, it’s not like they’re going to need it anymore. I don’t even think it’s stealing, at this point. Just scavenging for treasure.”

Dalthan’s nose crinkled, “Which sounds dirtier than theft when I say it out loud. Maybe I’m not supposed to take their stuff.”

Suddenly the rhythmic thump of feet against the stairs echoed through the quiet house. The sound grew louder, and closer until Zaplixel rounded the corner and froze. The old [Swindler] had necklaces swinging from both fists and a straw hat sitting askew atop his bald head. The wizard’s pale blue eyes took one look at the scene below him and dropped the jewelry to point an accusing finger toward the rogue.

Dalthan shifted, pointing his dagger at the old prick as he spoke. “Don’t you fucking dare you piec-”

The deadly hum of active magic was the only warning Dalthan got before three azure darts flew from Zaplixel’s outstretched finger. The glowing shards slammed into his chest in quick succession, each one striking with the weight of a sledgehammer. The thief felt his ribs crack beneath the pressure of the sudden onslaught. Forcing himself to press forward despite the hot flash of pain, Dal twisted out of the path of an arrow that nearly took him in the chest.

It would be the last shot Keysha fired because her latest miss allowed the thief to glide into melee range before she could draw another arrow from her heavy quiver. The [Rogue] felt a cold sense of satisfaction when he saw Keysha’s eyes widen with fear in the heartbeat before his dagger could plunge into her slender neck. The willowy woman tried to make distance, but it was far too late and the thief was far too close.

Shockingly, Dalthan didn’t open her jugular. Instead, the rogue slithered around her like a boa constrictor. His wounded arm snapped out, grabbing her by the waist as he slipped behind her back. The cold kiss of steel was pressed against her throat as he firmly turned her so that they were both facing the seething wizard.

“Drop the bow,” the rogue said curtly. He felt the woman tense. A long, pregnant silence settled across the room. The moment stretched on, each heartbeat coming faster than the last until the clatter of Keysha’s bow striking the floor broke the spell.

“What was it you said?” Dalthan’s voice was hot against the shell of her ear as he pressed the flat of his blade tighter against her neck. There was a growl in his voice, a feral tone that would have sounded at home coming from a cornered animal. “Something about an arrow pressed against the neck of a loved one? I hope a dagger will do the trick.”

“The question I have,” the rogue continued, his voice becoming more controlled by the second. “Is whether or not good old Zap qualifies as a loved one.” There was a soft wheeze in his voice, undeniable evidence of the damage caused by Zaplixel’s spell.

“I could destroy you both, right now.” Zap’s nasally tone sounded almost eager as he gazed down at the other two evildoers from his perch upon the staircase.

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Dalthan barked a laugh, then replied, “Old man, the only thing you’ll be destroying is another set of underwear when you shit yourself after I come up there to kick your ass. That fucking magic missile hurt.”

“Can we not antagonize the evil wizard right now?” Keysha hissed while flashing a winsome smile toward Zap. Her voice rose, growing loud enough for the [Swindler] to hear her offer. “You can keep my share of the loot. I just wanted the milestones from this quest anyway. How does that sound?”

The bald mage shook his head. “I don’t have to share the loot if you’re dead.” The wizard looked at the huntress mournfully, unhidden disappointment swimming through his pale blue eyes. “You’ve gotten soft, Key. When I first met you, you’d have slit that idiot’s throat as soon as we ‘ported in. Now, I turn around for ten minutes and you fuck around and let the dreg get the drop on you.”

Dalthan felt the woman stiffen as she snapped back. “At least the dreg completed the quest, Zap. What have you managed to do since we got here? Your antiquated ass has been about as useful as an extra small condom at an ogre orgy.”

Her voice brimming with fury, the [Sharpshooter] started to pull away from the rogue’s grasp. It took a firm press of the steel tip of his dagger against her throat to still the incised woman.

“I thought we weren’t antagonizing the bloodthirsty wizard?” Dalthan whispered urgently, his emerald eyes darting between the glowering archer and the mage who’d taken on the complexion of an eggplant.

Before Keysha could snarl a reply, a deafening crash rolled across the room like a peal of thunder clawing its way across a storm-swept sea. The raucous noise was followed by the tortured sound of wood straining to hold its shape against inexorable pressure. A heartbeat later, the timber shattered with a crack like snapping bone.

Their internal strife momentarily forgotten the three evildoers turned their attention toward the source of the commotion.

By the time three sets of eyes had settled on the manor’s entrance, two stone hands were in the process of twisting the doorway into a mangled hole in the wall. Enraptured by the display of raw strength, the bickering teammates watched the [Stone Golem] push and pry its way through the portal it’d created for itself. Once Shale had finally forced its way inside, the golem found that it had just enough room to rise to its full height without its pumpkin-sized head scraping the ceiling.

The two men regarded the golem’s sudden arrival in uneasy silence. Keysha, however, had no problems making her thoughts known.

“That scrawny shit threatened to kill me!” Keysha growled. She turned her gaze away from the golem to point a belligerent finger toward the black-robed wizard in question.

“Why are you worried about me when the fucking rogue is holding you hostage?” Zaplixel threw his hands up in frustration. “The rogue that’s spent the whole day trying to convince us that he’s not evil like the rest of us.” Zap flipped a hand toward the thief holding a dagger to Keysha’s throat. “How do you explain this, dipshit?”

Dalthan, who was doing his best to keep Keysha from slitting her own throat while she flailed around with his dagger at her neck, noted the judgmental way Shale’s attention landed on him.

Beneath the animated rock’s stony glare, Dal carefully considered Zap’s words. It was a fair question. He hadn’t been a ‘do gooder’ for very long, so there was a chance that he’d made a mistake. Teaching Jack the ways of the world had undeniably been good, but context made some of the other parts of the mission rather tricky. He wasn’t used to trying to justify himself. Ever. To anyone.

“...Self-defense?” The rogue offered hesitantly. It seemed reasonable to him, but Keysha and Zap rolled their eyes. Shale did not. Rocks seemed to struggle to express more than the most basic body language. Dalthan supposed it had something to do with their general lack of anatomy.

“That’s it,” Zap said, ‘I’m fucking killing him.” The old man lifted one hand into the air as arcane words of power dripped from his lips like blood from a cooling corpse. Electricity began to dance between the numerous rings on his outstretched fingers, tainting the room with the acrid stench of ozone.

“Stop!” Keysha shouted, raising her hands as if to ward off the approaching spell.

Dalthan was frantically looking for somewhere to hide.

Shale took off across the room like a landslide rushing down a mountain.

The wizard spun toward the approaching golem as the last syllables of the spell fell from his lips. A bolt of azure lightning leaped from his bejeweled hand, carving a jagged path across the room to strike Shale’s left arm. The lightning bolt’s caress gave birth to an explosion of dust and gravel that filled the room with an opaque gray haze.

As the cloud of grit drifted over the room like a dirty fog, Dalthan made his move.

The rogue shoved Keysha to the side, barely registering the [Sharpshooter]’s angry squawk as he rushed toward the corner of the stairs. He could barely see with the dust swirling around him, but the lack of visibility wasn’t nearly as crippling for him as it was for his opponent. A grim smile crossed his face as he heard Zap cursing roundly, a sound that grew louder when he reached the banister and vaulted over it as lightly as a cat hopping onto a tabletop.

Zap’s shoes slapped erratically against the stairs as the wizard half-fled, and half-stumbled his way toward the house’s second story. Where the mage moved with all the grace of a zombie with two left feet, the rogue flowed up the stairs with the ethereal elegance of a prowling ghost. With a preternatural speed and precision, the thief tore his way through the dark, gritty cloud, emerging from it in a burst of movement when he reached the second story landing.

The look on Zaplixel’s face when he found himself nose-to-nose with the deadly rogue was a memory that Dalthan would never forget.

Nor would Dalthan forget the flash of surprise in Zap’s pale blue eyes when the thief drove his dagger into the wizard’s gut.

The bald man grunted, eyes watering with pain as his gnarled fingers scrambled to find purchase against the thief’s wrist to push him away.

“You’re not going to die, Zaplixel. It’s just a little nick to your liver.” The rogue’s voice was soft, like the tone of a parent singing a lullaby to a sleepy child. His hand jerked back, withdrawing the blade from Zap’s stomach. The wizard immediately fell to his knees, clutching at his gut with a ragged groan.

Far from finished, Dalthan knelt beside the [Swindler] and jerked one of his hands away from where it cradled his wound. The wizard weakly tried to resist, his lips trembling and pale from the waves of pain rolling through him. A few half-stuttered words were all the old man managed as Dal splayed the wizard’s open hand across the wooden floor.

Dalthan’s knife descended in a remorseless arc. When the blade sank into the floor, a hand that had five fingers only moments ago, now had four.

“Now we’re even,” Dalthan said, his emerald eyes holding the wizard’s gaze for a long heartbeat before he shoved the asshole down the stairs.

The rogue listened to the erratic thumps of Zap’s body tumbling down the stairs until the racket came to an abrupt stop. Silence reigned for several minutes, giving Dal a chance to examine Zap’s finger and the three rings it still wore. The thief was in the process of removing the jewelry from the severed digit when Keysha yelled.

“Who is that?” The woman called out, immediately falling into a coughing fit.

Dalthan replied, “Zap’s at the bottom of the stairs. He’s not dead and he shouldn’t bleed out before we get back to The Hub. Is Shale okay?”

There was a long pause before Key spoke again. “I’ve seen him worse. It’ll take some time, but he should be fine.”

“Good,” Dal said, shifting to cradle his bruised arm. A grimace crossed his face as he began to tenderly explore his broken ribs.

After another lengthy pause, Keysha yelled, “Do you want to come down here?”

Dalthan chuckled and immediately cursed the [Sharpshooter] for making him laugh. “No, I think it’s best that I stay up here. Alone.”

“Then we’ll see you back at The Hub,” the huntress yelled, a hint of exhaustion bleeding into her tone like oil slowly soaking through a tablecloth.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Key,” Dalthan said with a sardonic smile curling his lips. “But I sincerely hope you don’t.”

Twenty minutes later, a round portal of impenetrable darkness sliced through reality like a meat cleaver splitting an apple.

After taking a moment to admire the swirling shadows, Dalthan stepped through. He returned to The Hub with his quest complete but his goal was still out of reach.

Changing his alignment might be more trouble than he’d bargained for.