“Yes,” he replied, his smile hidden. “Right here in the open.”

Harruq stood and sheathed his blades. He dropped Haern’s rag as blood continued to drip down his face.

“You’re a bastard, you know that?” Harruq said.

Haern nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

With that, the half-orc went in search of Delysia.

S omething’s not right, Brug,” Tarlak said, staring at a map of Veldaren divided into several colored districts.

“What you mean, Tar?” Brug asked. He was dressed in his bed robes, and his eyes were still dark from sleep. Before the wizard answered, there was a knock at the door.

“Come on in, we’re decent,” Tarlak answered. Qurrah stuck his head inside, his robes clean and his hair straightened.

“I will be in Veldaren for a bit,” he said.

“Oh, alright, well you better take this then.” The wizard pulled open a drawer, closed it, pulled open another, and then took out a metallic pendant, which he tossed to Qurrah. A quick examination showed it to be a rectangle with a small yellow square in the center.

“What is this?” Qurrah asked.

“That’ll let people know you’re one of us,” Tarlak explained. “It’ll also get you in and out the gates without too much hassle from the guards.”

Qurrah bowed in thanks, and then slipped back out. When the door shut, the wizard turned back to his map.

“Lola’s not sent word to me since spring,” he said, continuing where he left off. “The Muggly brothers haven’t contacted me since summer, and Jerend’s offered no useful information for months now.”

“Perhaps because things are quiet,” Brug said from his seat in a comfortable padded chair.

“Thief guilds don’t stay quiet,” Tarlak said with a shake of his head. “Not even the neutered ones the nobles have created here in Veldaren.”

“Then what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking,” the wizard said, tapping his red goatee, “that somehow my contacts are expecting more money by not talking to me.”