"You can't do this to me!" Craig could hear a woman yell from the distance.

"Lady McDaniels, I suggest you calm your temper."

"Don't you understand that I lost everything!? You can't just sit around here and do nothing!" Craig went towards the commotion to get a better look, pulling Clyde with him, dodging others who were crowding around. At the center was a very odd looking woman of about 40 or 50 following an odd fashion trend with short curly hair dyed green. There were certainly a lot of interesting types in Kupa Keep City, types of people he would have never thought existed until the past few weeks he had arrived.

"My Lady, the war had cost us all a great deal. Your village was not the only one destroyed."

"You can't seriously be telling me that you're not going to help me rebuild."

"There's nothing to rebuild," the exasperated knight complained, "Anyway, who are you planning to get to live there now anyway?"

"I don't believe for a second that nonsense that none of the peasants of Sundorham are alive. You can't tell me not one of my workers are around."

Craig had always known there was a Lord and Lady of his village, the Lord having passed away some time ago. Unlike many villages where the Lord lived near the village itself, usually in a grand manor, the House of McDaniels chose to live in the city instead of the remote, dull land of Sundorham. Supposedly, a generation or two ago they once had a manor on the outskirts of the village but after they ranked high enough in favor, they managed to afford to run the land without needing to be there, fetching knights to put forth their orders and do all collections.

In turn, Craig had never seen this lady before in his life.

"My Lady, do you not understand-"

"No, you don't understand, knight! Sundorham is my property, the people belong to me! I want you to do everything in your power to find those people and return them to me at once!"

Craig felt himself grow cold.

"Come on Cra-Feldspar. We don't need to listen to this," Clyde grabbed his arm and nudged him away.

"Have you ever even seen that lady before?" Craig whispered, his voice more melancholy than he expected.

"Yeah," Clyde kept his head low, his voice melancholy, "When I was little. When my dad made the contract with her. She was a bitch then, and she's a bitch now."

"Do you think she'd remember you?" Craig asked.

"I don't know," Clyde bit his lip. Craig could feel him trembling slightly against him as they pushed past the crowd.

"Then let's keep her as far away from us as possible."

Despite getting more money than he usually gets in months by doing the single job from Lady Shelly, Craig continued to work. Sure, he didn't need to. Yet for his entire life, ever since he was a small child, all he ever did was work. Work was what put a roof over his head, put food on the table.

He tried taking a few days off. He really did. He walked around the town square and tried to experience how the everyday person lives. He wore his new expensive hat out even if it was balanced out by his worn and cheaply made clothing. He visited the shops, watched children playing. He tried to do what he figured normal people in the city do on days off.

He determined immediately that it was incredibly boring.

He wasn't one for fun and excitement. Honestly, he preferred the simple, mundane thieving missions. But at least he was doing something. Plus, he liked being a thief. He really didn't know how some people did it, living their life without work. If he didn't know better, he'd almost pity the rich who never had to work a day in their life.

Of course, though, he did know better.

He also realized that having money to buy things wasn't as exciting when you're an expert at stealing them for free.

"Feldspar, you're here more often than usual," the tavern wench raised her eyebrow as she handed Craig another beer after a long day of him attempting to do nothing. He didn't know the tavern wench's real name, but everyone called her Red because of her striking red hair. Her personality also matched. From what he did know about her, she was the daughter of the tavern's owner and had dirt on everyone. Craig always knew to be cautious around her.

"It's none of your business," he decided to say plainly, taking his drink from her.

"That bad?" Red smirked.

He frequented this particular tavern every once in a while as of all of them in the city, it most reminded him of the inn his town had. He preferred eating on his own and drinking with Clyde, but on occasion he felt in the mood to drink in public.

The tavern had a slew of people of all walks of life. There were the poor who would drink away their sorrows of being poor. There were working people who would stop by after a long day at their job. It generally didn't have the primmest of prim of the nobles, but some of the more grounded ones would occasionally come, especially if they had something to drink away their woes over.

"I'll tell you why I'm here," a voice grumbled. Craig could tell by the speaker's outfit and demeanor that he was one of those woeful nobles. Specifically, he wore a red cape and head sash of the clerics, complete with their insignia. Clerics were magical healers, a group the Wizard allowed to train in magic due to their usefulness on the battlefield, but only those of certain noble houses were permitted.

"Oh?" Red turned around and faced the other patron, immediately losing interest in Craig. The man was slouching in his chair, empty glasses around him.

"That fucking...fatass piece of shit!" he grumbled, taking another swig of his drink. Craig's interest was also piqued with that statement. He must mean the Grand Wizard.

"What of him, Token?" Red pressed, immediately handing him over a shot of whiskey. Craig knew it was her big tactic to get drunk people to talk. Though honestly, he would be lying if he said he didn't do the same to get information out of people for his own missions.

The man-Token-continued, balling his fists, "For ten years I've been an apprentice in magic and medicine to become a cleric. Since I was a child! My family has always had generations of the best clerics on the field, as useful as any knight. But the Wizard has always had it out for my family.Now he's declared that I can't continue my study of medicine because he 'thinks I have a natural talent for blacksmithing.' What does that even mean? He just wants to be the only fucking magic user in the kingdom, even if it means he's fucking over everyone else. He doesn't care how many lives we save, he doesn't care about our feelings!"

Red sighed and took away some of his empty glasses. "That's who he is. He has always been one of the grossest, most disgusting people in Zaron, but now that he can do whatever he wants he does. Who would have thought that the useless King Stewart actually had a purpose in reigning him back a bit? Still, not like there's anything we can do about it."

"You think all of Kupa is just gonna have to learned to deal with being screwed over by him forever?" Craig found himself asking on impulse.

"Ha," Token laughed sardonically, "He's been pissing off the dwarves a lot lately, next thing he'll get us in another pointless war. Maybe they'll actually destroy this god awful city instead of those pointless serf villages."

"What do you mean pointless?" Craig answered, "Hundreds of people were killed. Children were killed."

"Yeah," Token retorted, "Though honestly have you seen the living conditions? I almost feel like death is a mercy from that lifestyle."

"Mercy? What would a noble like you know about something like that? You're pissed off that you're out of some dumb job yet think the murder of hundreds is mercy?" Craig stood up, his face growing hot with rage. He hated nobles, every last one of them. He hated the wealthy. He hated freemen.

"Feldspar!" Red glared at him, "You start anything, I'm kicking you out."

Craig forced himself to unclench his fists. He couldn't afford to cause trouble. He also mustn't be too touchy about the destroyed villages, lest he gave himself away. Sure, a serf became a freeman once they escaped for over a year. Not to mention that Lady McDaniels died a couple years ago without an heir or rebuilt land, Sundorham still an untouched ruin. Still, he knew his true identity getting out would cause trouble, especially meaning that he lied to gain entry to the city.

"Whatever," Craig sat back down.

"Anyway, Feldspar, to answer your question," Red continued, "Do you have any plans or desire to do anything about the Grand Wizard?"

"Of course not," he answered, slouching into his chair as he grumpily finished his drink.

So, with all that behind him, Craig quickly found himself once more taking up various jobs to do. He pickpocketed from passerby nobles and sold what he could to pawn shops. He had a job from a blacksmith to steal some charcoal from the Crown's own supply, as coal was scarce and hard to come by on the normal market due to the Grand Wizard King having recently upset the Dwarf King from which it comes. He went out of his way to take more than he needed and in turn sold some to anyone else who offered to buy it. He also stole some apples and bread for some local street children in turn for them to mend his ripped pants.

Eventually, the baker came sobbing to him about the theft of their necklace that was oh so viciously stolen from their very own bedchambers. The great Feldspar the Thief, never wanting to disappoint clients, offered to steal for them a nice, but much less high profile, bit of jewelry for a discount fee. In reality, he didn't even need to steal anything himself, simply taking one of the previously stolen things from Clyde's own shop that they had stored away in a trunk. They had actually kept this particular necklace because the pawn shop rendered it useless.

He didn't really feel that guilty for what he did to the baker. After all, they had no problem stealing a necklace of great value that was a gift to a family as a condolence for their dead child. The baker could have easily gone lower and picked any other nice thing to steal without going that greedy and careless.

To be fair, Feldspar the Thief himself had no qualms about stealing it from Lady Shelly when he was first contracted to do so in the first place. Sure, he was almost certain she'd ask him to steal it back, but in the end it still was sort of a cruel thing to steal. Not that he really cared. Nor did he really think Lady Shelly cared about the necklace for the sentimental value.

Regardless, a mission was a mission.

"I don't get you," Clyde whined at their dinner table that night as Craig announced his early return to thieving. They had a beef stew and rye bread, something that was an occasional treat for them. "Man, I'd love to get out of having to work."

"Then quit. It's not like I'm holding a knife to your throat."

"Dude, c'mon," Clyde groaned, shoving a mouthful of bread into his mouth, "You know it doesn't work that way. I'm a merchant class, Kupa expects me to work. Plus, even if we have the money, do you really think Kupa won't get suspicious seeing us have money with both of us legally unemployed?"

"Then leave the city already," Craig rolled his eyes, "That's what you've been planning to do for years now."

"You know I can't yet."

"Then when, Clyde?" Craig sighed, "You've been talking all about your dreams and plans since we were kids and Sundorham, but all you've been doing is continuing on as a shitty merchant and an even shittier thief."

To be fair, Craig didn't really want Clyde to leave the city. Craig wasn't happy in the city, but he was comfortable for the time being. Clyde was all he had, his only friend, the last remnant he had of his childhood. The only person who knew who he really was. He would naturally follow his friend into the face of death. Even if he would never phrase it that bluntly or sentimentally to his face.

"Speaking of that…" Clyde put his bread back on his plate. His expression grew serious, a rare look for him.

"Yes?" Craig asked, his interest piqued.

"My boss is having me transferred," Clyde said, his voice dead serious, "He wants me to work as the Grand Wizard's personal merchant."

"Is that a good thing?" Craig asked as he shoved more food in his mouth, "I mean he's a huge fucking douchebag, but at least you'll get paid more."

"Yeah well, the reason he needs a merchant is because he had the last one...executed."

"Well, maybe the last guy fucked up."

"He's had six merchants either killed or banished from space and time. In the past two years."

"And you said 'not yet' about getting the fuck out why?" Craig raised an eyebrow.

"Because dude, he's the Grand Wizard," Clyde hit the table, "You can't just quit on the Grand Wizard. But whatever. I think I can make the situation work."

Craig poured himself some of the liquor at the table and quickly took a shot.

"Well, whatever. As long as you know what you're doing, you know you'll always have me at your side."

Craig tried not to think about his conversation with Clyde the night before as he went out the next day. Clyde had to leave very early to be there for the Grand Wizard on time and Craig never liked waking up early, so he hadn't seen him before he left.

He decided he didn't want to deal with anyone on that day, and merely took to pick pocketing in the town square. It was one of the first things he learned how to do. It was actually pretty fun for him.

Of course he had to watch out. Thieving was obviously a risky job in any circumstance, but being caught taking off the jewelry of a noblewoman red handed would surely get him locked away in a dungeon. That is, if the powerful person didn't immediately demand his execution.

Still, for all the years he had been thieving, never once had he been caught. He was the best for a reason. A skill that made people hire him, wanting his skills on their own side, not caring that they were hiring a criminal. No one ever once reported him.

The only person he really had to worry about was Dame Wendy Testaburger.

She wasn't a bad person by any means, if Craig was going to be honest with himself. She had a lot more integrity and soul than virtually any other knight he had ever met, especially for someone already born into a noble family. Despite her young age, she had managed to work herself up the ranks and lead a very elite, all-female group of knights. The Grand Wizard was said to absolutely despise her and her squadron, but he didn't disband them. They were too valuable-she was too valuable. Not to mention, the Princess adored her.

Beyond her strong combat and leadership abilities, in the current time of temporary peace she made it her goal "clean up" the city, if not kingdom as a whole. The Grand Wizard may not care about the crime infesting the city, but Dame Wendy Testaburger did. She made it her duty to make Kupa Keep a land that was perfectly safe for all people and she was going to do her best to do so with or without official support. She busted fractions of the black market, caught people thieving, stopped assaults, went after murderers.

Honestly, she was a good thing for Kupa. She just wasn't a good thing for Feldspar the Thief, someone who made a living off of the selfish, exploitable side of the people.

"Feldspar," she called out, her voice as booming and confident as ever.

Craig groaned, squeezing his eyes shut with annoyance. He had a necklace in his hands, but he was able to casually fit it into a hidden pocket in his pants as he turned around.

"Yes, Dame Testaburger?" he answered her, sarcasm clear in his voice.

Dame Testaburger glared at him, her dark brown eyes cutting through him like a knife.

She always was suspicious of him, from her first days training to be a knight as a young teenager. She had noticed his odd ways of walking oddly close to the wealthy, as if to steal from them. She had noticed how he would visit shops, only to never buy anything. She had paid attention to his background as a passerby who happened by chance to come to the city as the war drew to a close.

It was after the sudden death of Lady McDaniels, however, that she frequently pestered him.

"You don't look happy," Craig mused, "You find out there's more proof that I'm innocent?"

"No," she frowned, "But that's not why I'm here today."

"I'm not stealing anything either, if that's what you're wondering," he answered, "Clyde's working for the Grand Wizard now. Not that I need your approval to do what I want, but now that he's got an even better paying job I can afford to do what I want."

"I wouldn't understand why someone like him would take in a freeloader like you," she said, "Unless, you know…"

Craig frowned. He knew exactly what she meant. He forced himself the inside of his mouth to prevent himself from giving her the spiteful response he wanted to. He knew it was widely believed that him and Clyde were lovers and honestly, it would probably help their image if he just said they were. But they weren't. And that was one thing Craig refused to lie about.

Sure, Craig definitely pondered the idea of being with Clyde. Far more than he would like to admit. Okay, probably to an uncomfortable amount. Clyde wasn't super attractive, but he wasn't hideous by any means. He was annoying at times, but he liked him a lot as a friend. He was there for him. He would probably like being "with" Clyde. He definitely wasn't in love with him by any means nor did he lose any sleep over the idea. Yet it was an idea that always made his face turn bright red.

However, Clyde himself had a female lover of his own. One he was head over heels for.

When Clyde first brought her home, it hurt Craig far more than he expected it to. Not a stabbing pain he would shed tears over, but still somewhat uncomfortable in a way he didn't plan. She was funny, outgoing, beautiful, and likable. They had been together for a few years now, Clyde even discussed bringing her with them when they finally left the city. A concept that always made him feel sick in a way he couldn't describe. They were still going strong, but gradually even dense Clyde picked up on his discomfort and stopped bringing her around their place or mentioning her as much to him.

"Feldspar!" Dame Testaburger yelled. Craig hadn't realized that he allowed himself to zone out thinking about this. He scowled at her to hide his embarrassment.

"Are you just going to keep standing there, wasting my time, or do you actually have something to say?" he managed.

"Yes, in fact. I've been called to summon you."

"What?! I haven't been doing anything wrong!"

"Unfortunately, I'm not here to get you in trouble," she rolled her eyes and signaled for him to follow as she walked off, "It's the House of Marsh that are summoning you."

"Shelly?" he asked, hesitantly following her.

"Lady Shelly," she corrected him, "But no."

"But why-"

"I don't know," she cut him off abruptly. Craig knew better than to speak further, and allowed her to guide him in silence.

As was with the highest of nobility of Kupa that so wished to reside in the city, the Marshes owned on of the many large towers connected to the entirety of the large castle and its walls that surrounded the city. Craig had heard that this was odd for a kingdom-most lords lived in manors in their own land, but Kupa allowed those of highest status to stay in the kingdom, in towers of the Castle. He always wondered if it was a political tactic for the royal family or the Grand Wizard to keep an eye on the nobility.

Their tower's entrance was made up by a large wooden double door, guarded by two knights in a very still, very statue-like stance. Without her needing to say a single word, they broke their stance and opened the door for Dame Testaburger with a bow.

"This way," she called out as she entered.

One of the knights scoffed slightly as Craig entered. Now wasn't the time for Craig to make a response to him, and kept his head high and expressionless as he walked passed him. He did, however, manage to swipe a silver knife hanging from the knight's waist.

He hadn't known it at the time, but the Marsh's residence was the first place he had been to when he entered Sundorham. For that reason alone, the dark stone walls and winding staircases always felt more like a dungeon to him than a grand castle. Not all the intricate artwork, tapestries, and other expensive goods on decoration could change his mind.

Dame Testaburger was telling the truth in saying that he was not there for Lady Shelly, as she took him up flights of winding stairs above her low level chambers. He expected her to take him to the dark meeting room where he had been first taken all those years ago, but she didn't. They went higher in the tower, where he had never been before.

As they continued to ascend the winding staircase, Craig could faintly hear music playing. Beautiful music, soft and gentle like the melodies his mother hummed to him and his sister. As it got louder, he guessed that it was the sound of a gentle lute.

As they reached the entrance of the room from which the sound was coming, he could see that the music was in fact played by a man on a lute. The musician was a brown haired man about his own age, playing away passionately on his instrument on a small stool in the corner. Against the wall were a pair of crutches and it was only then that Craig noticed that the man was disabled.

Upon their presence being known, the man looked up at him from the entryway. He gave Craig a small smile. His eyes, however, gave him a shrewd, mischievous look. It threw Craig aback, probably showing it on his face. The musician, without missing a single note on his lute, laughed silently under his breath.

"Thank you Dame Testaburger," a female voice said, "That will be all."

Craig had been so enthralled with the music that he hadn't even noticed that the Lord and Lady Marsh were in the room, along with their daughter who didn't look pleased.

"Are you sure?" Dame Testaburger confirmed, looking skeptically at Craig.

"Yes I'm sure, Wendy," Lady Sharon insisted with a smile. Though behind that smile, he could sense an urgency, he could tell that she was clearly wanting her to leave.

"Then I'll be seeing you Lady Marsh," she bowed, "Lord Marsh. Lady Shelly."

"Seriously Wendy, can't you tell my mom wants you to leave already?" Shelly spat. Craig couldn't help but feel the edges of his mouth curl up in a smile. Testaburger merely swallowed her pride and left.

It was then that Craig allowed himself to get a better look at the room he was in. It was a grand room that appeared to be a dining room, with a large table in the center, decorated with a blue and red table cloth taking up much of the room. There were grand, intricate wooden chairs engraved with many designs and Lady Shelly-in a very unladylike fashion-was leaning back in one. Lord Marsh himself was sitting at the end of the table. The stranger continued to play away at his lute, uninterrupted.

"You must be wondering why we called you here, Feldspar," Lady Sharon walked back to the table and took a seat.

"Well yeah," Craig answered, taking Lady Sharon's actions an invitation to follow and take an empty seat at the table.

"Shelly, would you like to tell him?" Lord Marsh asked, disapproval towards his daughter in his voice. He sounded surprisingly sober.

"Don't embarrass me dad," she huffed, hitting at the pink ruffles of her skirt.

"Shelly," her mother warned sternly.

"I don't really care who tells me," Craig offered in a deadpan voice.

Lady Sharon's expression became appalled, as if she were shocked that a mere peasant would have the gall to talk back to someone of her status. Still, after only a few moments, her expression faded and reverted back to her previous, welcoming one. Then it grew deeply melancholy.

"As you may know," she said slowly and hesitantly, looking down at her hands resting on the table. Her expression became terribly pained, but Craig didn't really care. Instead, he noticed that her fingers covered in expensive rings that he would love to steal. Still, she took a deep breath and continued, "As you may know, we once had a son."

"We still have a son, Sharon," Lord Marsh interjected.

"Not now Randy," she hissed. She rubbed her hands through her short brown hair and brought herself the strength to continue, "Anyway, we had a son. He was, as any child would be...very important to us."

"I've heard," Craig interjected, trying to sound as respectful as possible, "He was killed by elves when he was a little boy."

Craig's words caused tears to instantly run down her face. She quickly used a napkin at the table to wipe her eyes. For a moment he felt empathetic towards her.

It was a story everyone within the city gates had heard, though he admittedly hadn't heard it before he arrived. Yet once he stepped foot in the gates of the city, it was the gossip of the entire population, sung by every bard. Even though it had happened years before it was second only to the death of the King and conflict over the throne. Arguably it was a topic even more long lasting than that of the devastating war they had just fought. To be fair, the war was something distant and far away, not something that affected the city people in the slightest.

Still, although there were variations of exactly what happened, the version Craig most often heard went like this. Apparently, many years ago, due to Lord Marsh's status as one of the very few permitted magic users in Kupa, the King and Grand Wizard would send him away on various missions across the kingdom, even across all of Zaron, taking along his wife and two young children. Supposedly, the family had become a face of diplomacy-a noble family featuring a magic user traveling and discussing trade and war across the land. Whispers said that the fact that Lord Marsh was a magic user himself helped dispel rumors of the horrible treatment of those gifted with a magical connection in the Kingdom of Kupa Keep.

At one particular trip, the family was said to be on their way to make peace with a barbarian tribe Kupa had been having mild skirmishes with along their borders. However, rumor had it that the High Elf Kingdom wanted to stop any peace talks between Kupa and barbarians, fearing that an alliance would make their elf kingdom more vulnerable. Wanting to stop it, it was said that the High Elf Queen herself personally sent out some of her fiercest warriors to stop the Marsh's convoy.

It was said that they were ambushed. That the elves attacked the poor, unarmed family while they were peacefully going along their path. Lord Randy was able to keep many of them off with his magic and get his family away, instantly guiding his family back towards Kupa.

Yet not before it was already too late for their youngest son.

Reports varied significantly depending on which bard was telling the story on how the poor boy died. Although Lord Marsh insisted that he was alive, no variation of the story involved the boy surviving. Some said his death was brutal and slow, others said it was quick and painless. Some reports said his body was buried, and that the Lord Marsh was in denial. Others claimed that he was left behind, leading to more of an excuse or opening for his insistence of his son's survival.

Regardless, it left both of the young boy's parents absolutely devastated.

Craig didn't really care what the real story was. Nor did he want to hear any version of it from the Marsh family firsthand. He knew there were far worse tragedies out there and that people lost their children every day to disease and starvation. He didn't understand the justification of so much focus on one single noble boy's death forever ago.

Lady Marsh continued wiping away tears. Not that it really helped, Craig noted, as they continued to fall down her face.

"Stanley would have been about your age," she tried to smile, "And your hair color. He might have looked like you"

"Oh god mom, can you get on with it without getting all creepy on him?" Shelly protested. She clearly didn't care about her mother's woes.

To be fair, she did always have to deal with talk in the city about how the wrong Marsh child died.

"Anyway," she placed the damp napkin back on the table, "When Stanley...died, the Queen gifted us one of her most valuable possessions."

"Shelly's pink pearls," Craig nodded, "Everyone knows that."

"Yes well we found out that our daughter lost them," Lord Marsh shot a look at his daughter.

"I got them back!" Shelly protested, crossing her arms.

"As we've heard it," Lady Sharon interjected, "That's all thanks to you, Feldspar."

"Oh. That's why you've called me here."

"I hear rumors that the boy Feldspar I let into the village a number of years ago had become a thief," Lord Marsh continued, "You know you gotta be careful. Thieving isn't tolerated around here."

"Are you gonna tell on me, my Lord?"

"No!" Sharon interrupted, "Although we're disappointed in our daughter for going behind our back and hiring a thief, we are greatly indebted to you. You brought back something absolutely invaluable to us."

Lord Marsh tapped on the table twice. Immediately, through his magic, plates and gauntlets flew in through the room. Craig could guess were made of real silver and couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of noble-only food would be placed on them. He could smell meats and vegetables he could never dream of affording or stealing. Carefully, the magical gust lowered one of the platters directly in front of him.

Craig looked at his plate. An large piece of meat that he didn't recognize sat in the middle, surrounded by clams, cheeses, and grapes. A glass of red wine was in a golden, gem covered gauntlet.

"Thief or not," Lord Marsh announced, "We want you to know we appreciate you for what you've done. Going forward, regardless of what is to come, you have an ally in House Marsh."