Dalthan emerged from the Well of Sins with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. For the first time since he’d awoken on the black marble altar in the Mausoleum, he felt as if he were in control of his own destiny. There was no [Swindler] dragging him along, nor were there any ogres prodding him forward. He was free to go wherever his feet carried him and that was a welcome feeling for a [Rogue] who’d spent his entire adult life, and most of his childhood, carving out a niche for himself on the streets of a hostile city.

But the Hub was still a far cry from home. The rogue was reminded of that every few minutes as he walked around the city’s fourth tier. Dalthan’s eyes lingered too long on the beholders lazily floating down the street and his steps still quickened when he passed a group of goblins scuffling among themselves. He had to keep himself from outright gawking at what could only be an enormous blue dragon descending toward the center of the city in a slow, majestic spiral.

Compared to all that, the familiar sight of the scantily clad witch astride her flying broomstick seemed positively mundane. This time the long banner that trailed behind her read “Skip Adventures//Grind at Polly’s <3” Just as before, the buxom woman waved to the onlookers that were cheering appreciatively as she swooped by.

Dalthan’s head was turned, still watching the wicked witch, when his foot came down on something wet and squishy. Startled, he turned around just as a wail like a grieving widow rose into the air. The sound drew his attention, and many others, to the sight of a sobbing toad-creature with pale blue skin.

Standing a foot taller than Dalthan, the massive frog had a slick sheen to its blue skin, as if it’d just crawled out of a slime-ridden pond. Two thick, heavily muscled arms sprouted from its barrel chest, each one long enough that the knuckles of each hand brushed the ground. The creature’s long fingers were tipped in wickedly curved claws. Likewise, the short, stumpy legs it stood on had their own set of talons that reminded Dalthan of an iguana’s foot.

The bizarre creature had its head tipped back and its comically wide mouth was open, exposing rows of jagged yellow teeth. Springing from its lips was an agonized cry that sounded like a cross between the gurgle of a drowning puppy and the yowl of mating cats. Urged on by the blue frog’s mournful cry, the various bystanders, Dalthan included, began to scan the street for the source of its distress.

Dalthan’s emerald eyes were immediately drawn to the leather cord clutched in one of the frog’s sinister claws. The thief’s gaze followed the length of the thin strap down the frog’s body and across the ground. A sense of apprehension fluttered in his chest as he felt several members of the crowd looking down at his feet.

That flickering flame of apprehension bloomed into a full-blown inferno of anxiety when he realized that a pile of clear, sticky goop surrounded his boot.

“What the fuck,” Dalthan muttered while he watched the viscous slime stretch when he tried to lift his foot. It looked like a giant had sneezed across his shoe. Still more damning, while the frog held one end of the leash, the other end lay pinned between the stone street and the heel of the thief’s boot.

“You killed Squeaky!” The frog blubbered, its breath hitching as it struggled to force the words past its quivering lips. “All of you saw him! That human murdered my pet!”

The thief was well accustomed to the judgmental gaze of the unwashed masses. The posh socialites of Wavecrest had not attempted to hide their disdain for a street rat that wandered too far from the water’s edge. After all, it was entirely too easy to tell the difference between the fashion preferred by the good and gentle folk that called Low Town home and the stuffy, over-sophisticated abominations commmonly worn further up the hill in the Financial District.

All that to say, Dalthan was usually unconcerned with the uncouth barbarians that didn’t recognize his charm when they saw it. It was their loss and they’d come to regret it in time. However, there was something both alarming and novel about those same looks coming from the likes of ogres, orcs, and other strange creatures that Dal had never imagined.

The psychological effect the riffraff applied to him was enough for the thief to follow rule one of the Handbook.

When in doubt, run.

So, Dalthan ran. Or he tried to.

When the rogue lunged forward, his right foot remained stubbornly planted on the ground. The ensuing lurch sent Dalthan awkwardly tipping forward. His arms pinwheeled desperately as a surprised yelp leaped past his lips. In a remarkable show of acrobatic prowess, the thief managed to avoid smashing his nose into the ground, but even his skill couldn’t save him from taking an ungainly spill that knocked the breath from his lungs.

“You’re not going to get away with this!!” The blue frog yelled in a warbling gurgle.

While the assorted monsters closed rank around him, the frog began to march forward with rage gleaming in the depths of its beady black eyes. Dalthan was momentarily struck by how large the amphibian was as it closed the distance between them far faster than something of its size should. As ungainly as the creature looked, it moved with the confident, powerful grace of a natural predator.

Making Dalthan the prey in this little scenario. A role that the thief didn’t care for. At all.

The thief managed one last adrenaline-fueled tug of his leg before the frog could reach him. A sound like fabric tearing filled Dalthan’s ears as he finally pulled his foot free of the sticky goop. He immediately scrambled to his feet, realizing too late that a significant wad of the gooey adhesive was still stuck to the bottom of his boot.

Dal tried to hide his wince when he felt his foot stick to the stone street again. An experimental shift told him that he could move, but he’d be lucky to manage a hobbling lurch. There would be no hasty retreat from this encounter.

With no other alternative, Dalthan turned to his greatest weapon.

His dazzling smile.

“Well, hello there!” The rogue planted his hands on his hips and leaned back to maintain eye contact with the frog thing that was looming over him. Dalthan’s voice was gentle as spring rain and sweet as a sugar cane. “What can I do for you?”

Belatedly, Dalthan remembered to identify the monster that looked like it could eat him in three bites. He was inordinately proud of himself when he saw [Blue Slaad Beastmaster] hovering over the frog’s head. He’d be even happier if he knew what a slaad was, but at least he could guess at the beastmaster part.

“You know what you did, human.” The slaad wheezed. It glowered down at the human as if it expected Dalthan to collapse onto his knees and beg for forgiveness. When the thief’s only reply was a vapid smile, the monster pointed one viciously curved claw at Squeaky’s glistening remains. “You killed Squeaky. My poor gelatinous cube begged me to take it for a walk. I finally did and look what happened!”

For the first time, Dalthan noticed black tears streaming from the slaad’s eyes. Their path marked the slaad’s blue skin with streaks of dull gray. It almost made him feel bad.

Almost.

“Call me Dalthan, my friend.” The rogue bravely reached forward to squeeze the slaad’s forearm in a show of compassion. “And you are?”

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“Vex’sakan’ilopupanawa,” the creature sniffled, clearly taken aback by the rogue’s strange mannerisms.

The con artist never missed a beat. “Well, Vex, do you mind if I call you Vex?” Dalthan waited for the blue frog to shake its flat head before he continued. “Vex, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I’m afraid that Squeaky was feral.”

A susurration passed through the gathered crowd. More than one figure drew back in alarm at the proclamation. Faces that had been scowling at the unrepentant rogue only moments ago were redirecting their ire toward the irresponsible slaad.

“That’s impossible!” Vex leveled a claw threateningly at the smooth-talking rogue. “I’m a [Beastmaster]. I know everything about the monsters I keep.

Dalthan offered the upset slaad a tight-lipped smile as he shook his head sadly. “Sometimes we’re too close to see what’s right in front of our nose. Take a look for yourself.”

Dal hobbled back to the sticky remnants of the crushed gelatinous cube with as much dignity as he could manage given the circumstances. “If you look here, you can see where Squeaky had actually slipped the leash. It was only moments away from attacking one of the gentle creatures standing around us right now.”

The rogue made a sweeping gesture with his arms, taking his time to make eye contact with every goblin, orc, and human. He skipped the lone beholder because that would have taken too long.

“With my fellow Hubbers in mortal danger, I did the only thing any good citizen would do.” Dalthan lowered his gaze to the glistening remnants of the crushed pet. “I put Squeaky down.”

“Praise Ancev for that!” Someone in the back of the crowd yelled.

“It's true! I saw the little monster leap at the human!” A goblin said, nodding its pock-marked head enthusiastically.

“Gelatinous cubes are dangerous! They can’t be domesticated! Everyone knows that!” Remarked a woman with red skin and two short horns growing from her forehead.

As more voices added their opinions to Squeaky’s rapidly growing list of failings, the rogue turned back to Vex. A sympathetic frown weighed down the corners of Dalthan’s lips. “I’m so very sorry for your loss, my friend. At times like these, I find that it always lightens my heart to make a substantial donation to a local charity. I have a favorite cause that can always put a few extra coins to good use.”

It was a gift, really, to be able to roll from a potential disaster directly into a monetary windfall. It took a criminal mastermind that would qualify as a generational talent. One couldn’t just settle for avoiding trouble, you had to make it dance a jig on the palm of your hand. That was the difference between an artist and a common thug.

Dalthan continued, quickly falling into a familiar character. “I could even save you the hassle of going down to the orphanage since I was heading that way myself. Just hand me all the money you feel like donating to those poor, unfortunate souls and I’ll be sure to tell them it came from my good friend Vex. If it helps, I hear they’ve started to take jewelry and whatnot, so if you’ve got a necklace or a ring you want to part with, they’ll be happy to take it.”

The rogue’s voice trailed off as he began to notice the quizzical look the crowd was directing his way.

“Did he say charity?” Asked a pale man that stood beneath the shade of an elaborate parasol.

“I think he did.” Replied a red-eyed goblin as it shoved a finger into its ear to clean out the waxy grime that’d obviously impaired its hearing.

The blue slaad was the most confused of them all. The alien creature reluctantly asked, “What’s an orphanage?”

Oh. Right. There probably wasn’t much in the way of charitable organizations in the evilest city in the multiverse. He could practically feel the web of bullshit he’d woven unraveling like a cheap wool quilt.

This called for desperate action.

“Tuesday fucked Rebecca’s nose in the hot lasagna marmalade!” Dalthan barked while staring fixedly at a point two feet to the right of Vex’s head. The moment he finished speaking, the thief collapsed into a boneless heap.

“Whoa,” Dal said, his emerald eyes blinking furiously as the crowd of beasts pressed in around him. “I think I hit my head a bit too hard a moment ago. Was I saying something?”

“All of you, back away!” The blue slaad growled as it moved to protectively hover over the fragile human. “You are clearly wounded. I will stand guard until you have recovered.”

Words to action, the massive blue frog opened its wide mouth and made a high-pitched keening sound. It reminded Dalthan of the scrape of metal against metal that sometimes rose from Barnabas’ smithy when he was working on a suit of armor for the noblemen.

The crowd instantly began dispersing, though many of the bystanders offered a choice word for the slaad. A few even went so far as to speak ill of the dearly departed Squeaky.

“I’m fine, Vex.” Dalthan said as he watched the last of the citizens meander away. The thief was anxiously tugging at the laces of his slimy boot. “I’m sure you need some time to yourself to process your grief.”

“That is unacceptable!” The slaad gurgled, crossing its long arms. “I owe you my life, Human Daaltaan.”

“Oh. I, uh, don’t think you owe me anything. But if you’re willing to reimburse me for the pain and suffering your pet inflicted-”

The giant frog interrupted the rogue with a thunderous shout. “It would be a grave dishonor to try to repay my debt with mere money, Human Daaltaan.”

This time the rogue looked up; his dark brows narrowed. “Are you doing that intentionally? My name is Dalthan.”

“Yes, so it is, Human Daaltaan.” The frog nodded its head, or at least, that’s what Dal assumed the gesture was. With the creature’s lack of a neck, it was more akin to an awkward bobbing motion. “You have proven your wisdom to this poor Vex’sakan’ilopupanawa once more. Not since I left my honored masters in Limbo, have I been so blessed.”

The [Rogue]’s emerald eyes blinked. He was so stunned by the monster’s strange confession that he completely fell out of character. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I did not realize how many mistakes I’d made with Squeaky until you enlightened me.” The blue slaad spoke with an air of reverence that the rogue did not care for. At all. “Three times in the past month I woke to Squeaky sleeping on my face. In my ignorance, I assumed it was trying to cuddle. But you have opened my eyes, Human Daaltaan. I can see now that Squeaky was trying to murder me in my sleep.”

“Oh.” Dalthan turned away from the intensity in the slaad’s expression. Something about the zeal he saw written across Vex’s oily face made him redouble his efforts to remove his gooey boot. “Don’t worry about it, buddy. Just stick to raising rocks from now on and you should be fine.”

A series of deep, vibrating croaks exploded from Vex’s gaping mouth while its heavily muscled body shook helplessly.

It took Dalthan an embarrassingly long time to realize that the monster was laughing.

“Oh, you are funny, Human Daaltaan. But I know you cannot raise rocks. They can’t even move!”

“Actually-”

“I owe a life debt and the other slaadi would slay me where I stand if they knew I had avoided servitude to a greater power. I can see now that you are that greater power, Human Daaltaan. I will spend my days learning from you and protecting you just as you protected me.”

“I don’t think I can bring you with me wherever I go,” Dalthan said as he desperately tried to regain control of the situation. “Some very important people invite me to meetings with them.”

The rogue gave the slaad a significant look. “Meetings they expect me to attend alone.”

“Worry not, Human Daaltaan!” The giant blue frog gave the rogue a bone-chilling smile a split second before it leaped into the air toward the sitting thief.

Dalthan closed his eyes and screamed like a frightened child.

He was still screaming when he opened one eye to take an experimental look around. He was still in one piece and there was no sign of Vex. He’d almost relaxed when the slaad’s head somehow rose from his shadow.

This brought about a fresh round of screaming.

“Ahahaha, you are a funny human, Human Daaltaan! I can stay here in the demi-plane of darkness that is always anchored to you.”

“You’re going to live in my shadow?” Dalthan asked, equal parts amazed and horrified as he looked at the broad, flat head rising eerily from the dark, lightless patch behind him.

“Yes! Shadow. I will live here and repay my debt.” The slaad seemed inordinately pleased with itself.

“Fantastic,” the thief deadpanned. “I always wanted someone to watch my every move.”