Mystery, silence, and shadows are my tools, but contrary to what my victims believe, silence is not my only ally, but noise too. If I'm shadowing a guard, and then I try to pilfer his keyring or coin purse, I don't want to be surrounded by complete silence. As with fleeing from a predator, you don't need to be the fastest in the world in any absolute sense, just slightly faster than the slowest of your companions. So it is with stealing, you just need to make a little less noise than whatever is masking you: random city noises, crickets chirping, the person's own footsteps, or even his breathing.

You should follow a similar behavior if you try pickpocketing in an open place, like a marketplace. Naturally, that's something I only do when I'm down on my luck, but sometimes even the masters are forced to do such jobs since -for some reason- my rent is always due. For example, If I want to steal a guard's booze money, I could try to approach him, cut the cord while holding the pouch and pick it before it begins to fall, so he won't realize the pull from his coin purse. It can be done, but it's unnecessarily difficult unless there is no other choice. In most situations and if it's in broad daylight, it's just easier to bump into him and say "Excuse me, good sir" while I put my hand on his shoulder and squeeze just a little. His attention will be occupied with that hand, so he won't notice what the other is doing. Hence the first law of thievery: The right hand should always be noisier than the left hand.

Then there is running, which is the first ability any thief should master. Why first? Well, because before you master the craft you'll fail a lot, so you'll have to run a lot, too. In our line of work failing is not rewarded with encouragement but beatings and prison time, so you should be able to run as if the Trickster was hounding you.

Why was I thinking about all that while hiding behind that garden fountain? Well, it's a reflex and a bit of a mental routine. The Keepers taught me about these things and more, and they called them The Ten Fingers since every lesson was represented as one finger. So, when I'm bored or waiting for the next move from my mark, I end up looking at my fingers and I remember in an instant what they taught me all those years ago. At least, it beats stargazing.

I had been like that for almost an hour and I was beginning to lose my patience. Suddenly, I heard the sound of two approaching men and their indistinct conversation. It came from my right, around the corner, so I changed my position around the fountain. After a few seconds, the voices became clearer. I also began to see and approaching light, probably from a torch.

"Nay, nay, thou art a simpleton." Said a distant male voice. "Knowest thou not that such actions corrupt thy whole work. Listen well and I will teach thee what thou shalt do."

As soon as it ended I saw the two men. The man who had spoken was a Hammerite, full regalia and all, and the other looked like one of Sarnoth's servants. He was the one carrying a torch, which actually helped me a lot since it would blind him from anything to his left (that's where I was).

"But, but..." The servant muttered. "It's how he likes it!"

"Pff! Mayhaps thy master knoweth much about mercantile matters, but about the fine art of cooking he is in the dark. One doth not amalgamate lesser spirits with goodly meat, tis an unforgivable crime. Thou wilt be a much better cook if thou ignore his moronic wishes."

"I don't know..." He said while walking just two meters from where I hid. "He is a stingy coot, I'm surprised he even eats. Wages are also terrible..."

The Hammer stopped and eyed him intensively. He lowered his voice, which was a nice change since I was beginning to fear they would wake up my next target.

"Ah, that's why thou must convince him about the wine. Then thou wilt have greater wealth at thy disposal. Verily, other poor souls may benefit from that, too. Thy master's pelf is a wretched thing, but it wilt be better used in our hands."

The cook stepped back, probably thinking if that had been some kind of test.

"You mean..." He began to say.

"Yea, I can help thee with that, too. He is but a knave and his soul is troubled and needeth solace; I know I can talk him into being more generous. Perhaps then thou wilt remember that our church always needeth tithes from those the Builder helpeth. But let us not speak of this here, for one never knoweth who may be listening."

Indeed. One never knows.

The two men kept walking -this time in silence-, went past the main door and then turned left. After that, I could not see them anymore, but I heard a creaky door opening and closing; the service door, probably.

My fence, Cutty, had given me a crude map of the Sarnoth's Mansion; perhaps drawn by one of the servants, considering their ambiguous sense of loyalty. Except for old Michail Sarnoth and his personal manservant, everyone else lived and slept on the first floor, so I had decided to go directly to the second, steal the fabled Gems of Sarnoth, and get out of there quickly. What were the Hammerites doing there I didn't know, but I had heard the rumor that Michael was dying, and everybody knew he detested his sons. So yes, there was probably a whole army of confessor there trying to get a piece of the inheritance.

I had already decided which would be my entrance, in fact, that's why I had been waiting by the fountain. Every night, after he had helped his master, the manservant read a book in his study before going to sleep. We were suffering an unusually hot summer, so he never closed the window. And that window was just above me.

I was already tired of waiting that much, and what seemed like an hour had passed since the light from the window had gone out, so I guessed that was the right time. I crept towards the mansion wall and began to climb it, which is easier said than done. Still, there was a ledge here, a little gargoyle there, and I succeeded. From the window sill I observed the room. It was almost completely dark in there, but a few things could be detected. On the far side there was a bed and man slept in it, snoring and from time to time murmuring something about cakes and his mother. I stepped in, on top of the table facing the window.

Being a professional thief requires more strength than people think. From time to time, you need to do things like standing on one leg and doing some crazy gymnastic movements in slow motion while holding some object with the other foot; and at no time you should make or provoke any sound. That was more or less my situation since I was in a crouching on top of the desk. From there, in almost complete darkness and trying not to stumble over any little object, I picked up the chair; very slowly I raised it and moved it back a little. I tested it with my toe, and it seemed sturdy enough. I went down to the chair, first one foot, then the other. It creaked a little, but the manservant didn't react nor changed his breathing cadence.

"It's never enoof.. the master always wants... ¿cake?." He muttered in his sleep. Then he began to snore again.

From the chair, I went down to the floor. That's a movement that requires you to hold most of your weight -in squat position- on one leg, and then descend slowly without falling and breaking your skull. Easy to do, if the chair is stable and has strong back. However, when I was a kid I had to do that exercise dozens of times every day on top of a very tall stool. Huh, I could actually write a book just about that motion; once I failed that exercise because my big toe popped while doing it and the Keeper trainer heard me. Not the knees, not the knuckles. The damned toe.

There was a beautiful drawer by the bedside and, of course, I decided to check its contents. I tiptoed towards it and opened it slowly, in short pulls. The sleeping man was facing me and I could sense his breath. That kind of proximity always put a mischievous smile on my face. It still does.

There I found papers, papers, and more papers. There was, however, an elegant silver pocket watch and a few coins, so I picked them up. Then I left the room, which is actually the easiest part. In that case the door had been left opened (probably so the manservant could hear his master), but even if that had not been the case, leaving is one of the easiest parts. Almost nobody believes that someone opening and then closing the door to his room is a thief, so he'll go back to sleep immediately. You can tell a half-sleep person something like "Meow, I'm just the cat", and he would believe it.

Outside the room, it was pitch black dark. I knew my goal was the second room to the left, past Michael's room, but I had to enter there first since he had the keys I needed. As I moved forwards, I caressed the left wall with my fingers, and when I sensed the door I opened it (it was already half opened, though) and entered the chamber. Instantly my feet felt the cold, hard, and elegant marble tiles; a floor fit for a king, indeed. I just hoped his portable riches were on a similar scale.

The air was hot in there and it was still difficult to see anything. However, I could hear the sound of a sickly breathing. I suspected I could have danced there and the man would not have noticed me, but I chose to remain in complete silence. Besides, I felt a little bad about what I was going to do, so I trod carefully, almost as if entering hallowed ground.

Now, about the keys. I knew -everybody knew it- that Michael Sarnoth was a paranoid old geezer, and that he always carried with him the keys to his fortune, will, and everything else. To be precise, they were on a keyring he always wore around his neck.

Prowling in synchrony with the old man's breathing, I moved towards his side. Slowly and gradually, I moved aside the heavy sheets. With my finger, I blindly poked the area near his neck until I touched something metallic, then I followed its outline. It was the keys and, luckily enough, the keyring was held by a cord or similar material, which meant it could be cut. Realizing that, I remembered the Keeper's lessons and warnings about such an action, and my second finger twitched. That made me smile.

One by one, in complete darkness, I help the keys in my left hand. That slow process lasted around a minute. Once their weight was safely in my hand, I held my breath and cut the cord with my knife. The man kept sleeping peacefully.

With the keys safely in my hand, I slowly backtracked my movements and slipped out of the room. Once I was outside, I went to the next room. From what I sensed using my hands, the door was an imposing portal with two locks. The keyring had eight keys, so solving the problem was going to take a while. It was also going to be the hardest part since I can always control my movements, but I can't do anything if a door squeaks or turning the key echoes throughout the house like an earthquake.

After some trial and error, I discovered which keys were the good ones. The first one didn't cause much noise, although my heart skipped a beat when I realized the locks were triple-locked. The second one was different; I took almost a minute for every turn, and every time the damn lock grated with malevolent pleasure. I finished and then waited and concentrated on hearing, but I didn't detect anything strange. I opened the door and entered the treasure room.

After so much time treading and tiptoeing through the dark, my eyes hurt before so much light. The room was completely illuminated with two of those electrical light than never seem to run out, so I made sure to close the door behind me. Although beautiful, with a marbled floor and well-painted walls, the room was empty except for an embroiled purple curtain on my right side and a big wall safe with golden ornaments in front of me.

By the doorway and squatting on my toes, I scanned the room, watching for triggers, odd tiles, pressure plates and such nuisances. I doubted there were any of those since, after all, that was the personal room of a barely functional old man, but one can never be too careful. I lowered my head to the ground and examined the floor. It seemed safe enough and, also, somewhat dirty. Very ancient-looking grime, by the way; someone -not the cleaning lady, that's for sure- had been shuffling around there for years.

Just to be safe, I crept along the wall towards the curtain, ignoring the tacky safe. I pushed the curtain aside and, lo and behold, there was a niche with another -this time more humble-, safe. Unlike the other, this one had so many locks it was ridiculous. However, I trusted the old man's rumored dementia and hoped any potential trap had been deactivated for his safety.

I pulled the curtain back to its place and began to work. After a few tedious and plodding minutes, I got the order of the keys right and opened the safe. Nothing exploded at me, which is always good.

The safe held a few documents, two books, a stack of gold coins and a big jewel box. I opened it and for the first time I saw the Sarnoth's jewels: a black and white pearl as big as a plum, a diamond necklace, and something beautiful I didn't recognize. It had an iridescent copper-like surface, but it was shaped like a quartz. The box itself looked valuable, so I put the whole thing (and the coins) into my sack. I was going to leave when one of the documents picked my attention. One word on it, to be precise, the word 'Testament'.

I'm a curious person, and I've to admit that, for some reason, I had grown fond of the old Michael. I read the thing, and what reading it was. In short, the Sarnoth's patriarch ranted about his useless children, telling them they would inherit something just above nothing at all. He wanted his mansion and precious objects (including the jewels) to be sold to the highest bidder, and the earnings divided between "my young and grateful lady friend Catherine", a few of the servants, and something called "Saint Tobias' Eastport Horphanage for Dense Children". Such a nice man, I almost felt bad for robbing him.

After a few mischievous chuckles, I put the document back and closed the safe. As soon as I did that, the room door opened. Luckily for me, the curtain covered me completely.

"Wait, why isn't this locked?" Said a voice. "Why did we even bother to make the duplicates?"

I heard the sound of three persons entering the room, then the door closed behind them.

"It should have been closed." Said a new voice. "It always is."

"Hath the old man entered here recently?" Said the third voice. Although he talked like the other Hammer (they all talk like that), he was another one. "He is touched in the head, perhaps he forgot to close the door."

"No, no, no." Said the second voice. "I... I don't like this. We should not be doing this."

"Thou canst turn aback, but bethink thyself, a man wilt be needed to receive the blame. Thou canst be that person."

A tense silence followed.

"Yes... yes. Fair enough." Said the man. "Let's do this, but I want the biggest share."

"'Tis fair." The Hammerite said.

I heard the three men walking towards the other safe, and I took a peek to watch their criminally incompetent actions. One can always learn from other comrades.

"I think it's this key..." Said the one of the thiefs.

While he inserted the key and turned it, I decided to hide and stuff myself in the niche as much as it was possible. Their safe answered with a purring 'click', and then he opened the lid. Immediately he screamed and fell to the ground among the ensuing surprise and panic.

"By the Trickster's arse!" Screamed the Hammerite. "A crossbow quarrel, 'twas a trap! A trap!"

"I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!" Said the other man, repeatedly. "We are taffed."

"Nay." The monk said over the moans of his accomplice. " This is what happened: we heard a thief, we entered here and saw the culprit."

The wounded man groaned and spat a string of terrible curses at them.

"But, but, you can't... he is still alive!" Said the other one.

"Not for long." The Hammerite quipped.

For that heist, I had not brought with me any unique tool, only a little sack, my knife, and my trusty 'flashy'. I always carry one of these, no matter where I am or what I'm doing; I even sleep with one. So, although I hated to give plausibility to their thief story, I doubted I could hole up there forever. So, sporting my best sly smile (not that I'm good at this sort of things), I came out from behind the curtain.

The two men saw me at once and gave a yell of surprise and fear.

"What in the..." Began to say the Hammer.

I threw the bomb at his feet and the flash of light blinded all of them. Leaving their confused screams behind, I dashed out of the room towards the stairs. While going down the stairs, I bumped into someone in his pajamas (the manservant, I think). He fell and created such a ruckus that after all his yelling and screaming, even old Michael was probably awake by then. I began to hear cries of confusion or alarm coming from all directions, and many doors opening.

I had hoped to use the servant door as an escape, but I saw an armed (although barely dressed) guard blocking my path in that direction. Luckily enough, another one -sword in hand and fully armored- opened the main one for me. He stuck his head inside, probably wanting to know what was all that noise about.

"Whats this taffin' noise?" He asked towards the darkness. And from the darkness I banged his head with my looting bag. Probably the most riches he would ever touch.

He plummeted like a rock and I jumped over him. I kept running across the garden towards my escape route by the outer wall. I had almost arrived there when an arrow whistled dangerously close to me. I dodged along the last patch of grass and hid behind a barrel just in time for another arrow to strike it.

I left my improvised cover and jumped on top of the boxes and barrels from the repair workers, and from there I grabbed at the top of the wall. Another arrow smashed against it, piercing first my loot sack. I did not bother to look at my pursuers, although I checked my bag (it was fine and it would hold). I pulled myself up and jumped down to the street. It was a three-meter jump and I didn't fall very well, but it hurt less than an arrow stuck in my back.

I kept running through The City's empty streets until the screams behind me disappeared.

The next day, while I slept, the City awoke to the news about the Sarnoth's jewels. Before that, even before the break of day, Brother-Director Filleus found a little parcel by his cell door in Saint Tobias' Horphanage. Inside it he found a diamond necklace.