Disclaimer (for the whole story): Garrett is owned by some rich person somewhere. I just borrow him.
XXX
Change of Fortune.
A thief has to eat. Sometimes it's necessary to steal food from a shop that's closed for the night. I tell myself this, but it doesn't numb the sting. My pride is hurt that once again I have come to this. Robbing bakeries instead of bank vaults makes a thief feel small.
But I've been down before and climbed back up. The feel of food in your belly works wonders for your spirit.
I sit on a hard wooden chair in the shop, bread and cheese in hand, and listen to the owner snore upstairs. I take stock of my situation.
It's been two months since I lost the Star Stone. I managed one good job after that, but all my money disappeared in various taverns. Two days ago, the landlord banged on my door and told me to pay up or I was out.
I had no money. He evicted me without further notice. As a parting shot I broke in that night and emptied his deposit box. It wasn't much, but it was enough to pay the bond on a single room in the Docks. I won't be there long. I can feel my fortunes changing again. I am sure this run of bad luck is behind me.
I stand, feeling newly invigorated. I put the last of some dry ham and rather foul cheese in my pouch for later, wrapped in oiled cloth. I don't have as much equipment as I would like: my blackjack, two water arrows, a single broadhead, and flashbomb. And my sword, though that is not much comfort. This does not alter my determination.
I open the door and creep out, flat against the wall. The street is empty both ways. I have taken only ten paces when I hear the shout of a Watchman behind me.
I chance a look behind me and see three of them, all running my way. I don't know how they've seen me but that isn't important now. I run. I know these streets well. I know how I can escape. Ido nothide, but concentrate on going as fast as I can.
The alley I'm looking for comes up quickly. The guards behind me are gaining and they are shouting for reinforcements. More shouts answer them. At the end of this dark alley there's an ornately carved stone doorway. It has enough handholds for a nimble thief like me to use it as a ladder. I launch myself at it and catch hold half way up. I hear the guards enter the alley.
My fingers close on the gutter and I pull up. I straighten my arms and swing my legs up.
A bowstring twangs behind me and time slows. The arrow hits my lower back and buries itself deep. The shock and the pain make my muscles spasm and I lose my grip. I fall and I know no more.