Dalthan’s emerald eyes flickered away from the imposing woman to pointedly stare at the filthy trio huddled together on the room’s massive bed. The majestic four-poster bed was fit for visiting royalty. Dal couldn’t help thinking that the gorgeous piece of furniture deserved better.
“Are we just going to ignore whatever the fuck is going on over there?” Dalthan asked, jerking his eyes away as his gag reflex reminded him exactly what he was looking at.
The regal woman, who’d introduced herself as Polly, lifted her shoulders in a lazy shrug that nearly dislodged the black silk robe she wore. “It’s time he paid for. The girls knew the terms when they agreed to it. I don’t judge people’s proclivities. I just provide a place to indulge in them.”
The [Rogue] barely heard her, distracted as he was by her long, shimmering red hair the color of a blazing forge fire. Though she was beautiful, Dalthan wouldn’t have called her that. Her face was too severe and the light gleaming in her slitted pupils too stern. She wore her authority so openly that Dal could feel the air grow hotter each time her attention settled upon him.
Belatedly, the thief remembered to actually use his new Identify skill.
[Red Dragon Councilor of Villainy]
The color drained from Dalthan’s face. Sensing the source of his discomfort, Polly gave him a predatory smile filled with the gleam of far too many teeth.
“Polymorph was much more fun before The Last Prince gave everyone the ability to peer through the deception.” Polly’s words were quiet, though each syllable rolled through the room like thunder rumbling across a storm-swept sea.
The casual conversation seemed to embolden the man on the bed. “I want a refund,” the man said. “And maybe one of that bastard’s ears in compensation.” Dalthan felt the degenerate’s eyes on him, but he refused to look toward the trio again, lest vacate his stomach. “You have to spend days on a very special diet to prepare for a session like this. And now it’s ruined.”
“Human Dalthan,” Vex began, showing as much confusion as the slaadi face was capable of. “Do they know they’re wallowing in shi-”
“That’s it!” The [Rogue] threw his hands up in the air and stepped around Polly’s imposing frame as he marched toward the door. “I’m getting the fuck out of this room.” He turned his head to gather Vex with a glance. “Come on. We are never, ever, under any circumstances discussing this again.”
Vex made a sad croaking noise as it shuffled reluctantly forward to sink into the rogue’s shadow.
“What about my appointment?” The man on the bed called out to the retreating rogue, despite the two women urging him to lower his voice. “I’ve been a paying customer here for years!” His voice began to grow shrill, like the shriek of steam escaping a teapot. “You can’t just let him walk away.”
Dalthan never broke stride. His hand was on the door handle when he heard Polly say, “You have eighteen minutes left, Mr. Holcomb. Do what you will with the time you’ve bought.”
Dal stepped through the heavy mahogany door while the man spluttered some inane response. He probably would have offered a parting shot if he hadn’t been thinking about the Thief’s Handbook. Specifically, rule twenty-two.
‘Never let a good distraction go to waste.’
In his mind, he could hear Ol’ Sloefoot’s wheezing voice cough out the words against his ear while he studied the long hallway that was lined with large windows on one side and heavy wooden doors on the other. The old man had repeatedly stressed that the secret to a long life of crime was to never let yourself be caught in a situation you couldn’t control. Obviously, Sloefoot hadn’t been terribly adept at taking his own advice, but that only served to offer evidence to support the man’s lessons. One bad encounter was all it took to end a good thief’s run.
Dalthan didn’t know how Polly planned to address his unintentional invasion. She seemed reasonable enough. But she also seemed to be a fucking dragon. That was not a comforting development. Dal had never met a dragon, but he’d seen enough street plays to know that dragons tended to eat handsome humans unless they were armed with a magic sword. In lieu of an enchanted weapon, he felt like the easiest way to avoid any sort of reprisal was to simply not be here.
So, the moment the door opened, the [Rogue] took off like a greyhound chasing a rabbit.
He took all of two steps before a stream of thick, black smoke rushed past his legs. The dark cloud flowed down the hall like a churning river, easily outpacing the thief. By the time he’d passed the third doorway, the plume of smoke stretched itself out across the corridor to create an opaque wall a few yards ahead of him.
Dalthan skidded to a stop as Polly stepped out of the black wall. The smoke clung to her, as if reluctant to let her go. A step later, it began to disperse through the air as if it’d been nothing more than a figment of his imagination.
The rogue groaned, shifting to lean against the wall next to the nearest window. “Can everybody in this gods damned city teleport about whenever they feel like it?” The thief’s scowl grew deeper as he realized he was on the building's fourth story. “Every time I turn around, some woman comes out of nowhere to drag me away.”
“Popular among the ladies, are we?” Polly stepped aside and motioned him forward with a wave of her arm that nearly sent her robe sliding to the floor.
Dalthan briefly debated taking his chances with the four-story fall before he sighed in defeat and stepped toward the [Dragon].
“Have you seen me?” The thief grumbled, using a flourish of his hand to indicate his irresistible body. “It’s a curse, really. I can’t even blame them because it’s not their fault. They just can’t help themselves.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“It must be a tremendous burden,” Polly said dryly. Her slitted eyes followed the thief while she turned and walked down the passage at his side. “Does this curse also make you do foolish things? Like, invade a dragon’s lair?”
Polly pointedly ignored the way Dalthan’s smile became strained as she continued. “If so, I can’t blame you for it. You simply can’t help yourself, right?”
“It’s true,” Dal began with a mechanical laugh that didn’t sound forced at all. “The last three times I ended up in a dragon’s lair it was completely by accident. Fortunately, they were all as understanding as you’ve been and sent me on my way with a few gemstones to remember them by-”
Polly’s eyes narrowed, making Dalthan feel like a rat that’d caught an alley cat’s attention. “Don’t fuck with me, kid.” The dragon rumbling voice filled the air while tiny wisps of smoke slipped from her nose in lazy streamers. “Tell me what you were doing in that room, and I may decide to kill you before I eat you.”
“That’s the other thing,” Dal grumbled as he turned away from the [Dragon]’s gaze, much to her surprise. “All the women I’ve dealt with are so fucking bossy.” The thief’s voice took on a shrill note, rising two octaves higher than his normal tone. “Take this character sheet, Dalthan. Go on this adventure, Dalthan. Don’t kill Zaplixel, Dalthan. Tell me about your dad, Dalthan.”
The duo rounded a corner while the thief mimicked the women he’d met so far. “And now you’re telling me to explain how I got in that room. Well, I don’t fucking know, lady. One minute I was locked in some greasy granny’s cottage and the next I was stepping out of the closet.”
Vex’s large, flat head rose from the darkness of Dalthan’s shadow. “Don’t forget, Human Dalthan, that we were in the dark-”
Dal quickly broke in before Vex could finish. “Yeah, yeah, that old witch kept her house so damn dimly lit that we could barely see.”
Dal saw Vex tilt its head quizzically. He could only hope that the blue slaad realized that the discreet waving of his hand was for its benefit. They would have to work on their nonverbal communication.
Assuming, of course, that he didn’t actually get eaten.
Fortunately, it seemed Polly had gotten distracted by something the thief said. “Which old witch are you talking about?”
Dal’s green eyes flickered toward the staircase that they were rapidly approaching. He wasn’t certain that he could outrun the [Dragon] down the stairs, but he planned to try. For now, it was a matter of keeping her distracted until they grew close enough for him to take his chance.
“Some woman named Agadeem. Lady Belial, she’s an [Archpriestess], took me to see her.” Dalthan slowly picked up the pace, quickening his steps at a carefully measured acceleration while he spoke. “She wanted to do that because I’m kind of a big deal. Maybe you should go talk to them about it?”
Dalthan hid a wince as his boots began to clack against the stone floor with the increasing pace of his quickening steps. “Now that I think about it,” the thief said, trying to keep Polly’s thoughts occupied for a few more moments. “She could have sent me here by accident. She looked really old. And senile. Maybe you should talk to her and see if she even remembers me.”
Dal’s whole body tensed as they neared the stairway. He briefly considered how difficult it would be to hide from a dragon, but he pushed that thought to the side. He could worry about that after his escape. Besides, how much did she even want to kill him? It wasn’t as if he’d done anything particularly heinous. For that matter, you could easily say that Dal had done her a favor by interrupting…that mess.
On second thought, he should ask for a reward.
Dal’s vague dreams of swimming through the gold in a dragon’s hoard were shattered when Polly said, decisively, “You’re right. Let’s ask them.”
She snapped her long fingers and a wall of black smoke billowed into existence, seemingly from nowhere. The dark, cloudy wall covered the hallway, sealing him away from the stairwell and a chance for escape. What’s more, he’d barely had time to consider a plan B when two women emerged from the swirling smoke.
“Motherfucker,” Dal swore with feeling as he watched a crotchety old bag of bones step into the hallway beside a vivacious dark elf. Both the new arrivals looked around their new environment with curiosity.
That is, until their eyes settled on the thief.
“Did you think you could get away from me?” Agadeem’s raspy voice clawed its way down the hallway while the smoke swirling around her vanished.
“Yes!” Dalthan replied, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat. “Yes, I thought I could get away from you. A three-legged turtle could outrun your old ass. All this teleportation shit is cheating.”
The thief whirled to face a bemused looking [Dragon]. “Did she tell you that she tried to melt my brain? She’s a menace.”
“She is,” Polly replied, nodding her head in agreement. “But it is the position of the Council that Agadeem is allowed to operate outside the normal hierarchy of the Hub because her hovel exists on its own demiplane.”
“Council?” Dalthan asked, “What Council are you talking about?”
“The Council of Villainy that runs the Hub, of course. Ancev can’t be expected to take care of all the city’s upkeep by himself. He handles the clergy and foreign administrations while myself and my compatriots take care of domestic issues.”
Suddenly Dalthan realized he hadn’t mistrusted her because she was a [Dragon]. He’d been worried about her because she was a politician.
The dragon continued, her rumbling voice taking on the practiced rhythm of someone accustomed to public speaking. “The exact law is Code 1089A-14 of the Extraplanar Housing Agreement. It’s the same statue that lets Santa Claus operate his sweatshop. The snowy one that runs on misery and financial ruin.”
“We’re here to help, Dalthan.” Belial broke in, her dulcet tones were enough to make the hairs on his arms rise as goosebumps broke out across his skin. “Polly contacted us so that we can all sit down and have a nice chat.”
“She means an actual talk,” Agadeem began as she hobbled her way toward him. “Not whatever deviant shit you’re thinking about with your mouth open and your tongue hanging out like a panting dog.”
Dalthan immediately bristled. “My tongue is not ha-”
His voice trailed off as one of the nearby doors swung open to reveal an aging man who was grinning from ear to ear. His head was bald and his slender body was almost swallowed by the black robes he wore. At odds with the simple cotton garment were his countless necklaces and the jewelry store’s worth of rings that twinkled around his nine fingers.
Zaplixel’s pale blue eyes widened in alarm. “You fu-”
His high, whiny voice was abruptly cut off by the impact of Dal’s fist against his nose.
The wizard’s arms pinwheeled to keep his balance as stumbled backward.
Without a second thought, Dalthan pounced on the [Swindler].