Dragon Heist

Yasuo Shimazu

Dewdrop let me cleanse

In your brief sweet waters

These dark hands of life.

- Matsuo Basho

Human Samurai from Kozakura

Miyamoto Musashi teaches us that the true Way of the Warrior is The Way of Walking Alone.  He tells us not to turn our backs on the ways of the world, but also that we should not engage its vices.  We should have no desire for possessions now or in old age, nor hope to own a home.  We should deeply contemplate the world but spend little thought on ourselves.  We should live a self-sufficient life free from desire.  Even the Gods are to be respected but not count on.  But above all, though you give up life do not give up honor.

The words of Musashi are law.  I know this.  I believe this.  My soul recognizes their undeniable truth.  But how do I follow them?

I am Shimazu Yasuo, the Eldest Son of Shimazu Tsunataka of the Kono Shidan, the Emperor's personal guard.  I am 17, and it is my destiny to serve The Chrysanthemum Throne.  I have spent my whole life training for it, from The Way of the Word to The Way of the Sword.  I have poured over the histories to better understand politics, I have studied the arts to better understand people.  I have learned the martial ways and tactics befitting a Samurai, and delved into the philosophies of the great teachers.

But I am untested.

I live a pampered life on the palace grounds, with every need met as befits a family of high status.  Everywhere I walk the Shimazu name precedes me, and I go unchallenged.  I am proud of my family name, of my father, and of my destiny.  My father wears our ancestral sword that will some day be mine.  I yearn for it.

My mother ensures that only the daughters of advantageous nobles are invited to sit with her, and often contrives to briefly require my attendance for some small thing.  I do not mind.  She will pick the best wife for me and ensure many children will carry on the family name and traditions, here in our ancestral home.  Life is good.

Why, then, am I unsatisfied?

For many days I sat beneath the great cedar tree overlooking a secluded pond, my favorite place for such contemplation, and considered why I was so restless. As time went by I found myself watching dragonflies skimming the water, occasionally dipping into it and causing little ripples to cascade across the water. The ripples were beautiful and hypnotic and I could not take my eyes from them.  Their unrelenting fluidity brought to mind the movements of master swordsmen, and I wondered if this is what Murasama saw when he was writing The Book of Five Rings.

The Book of Five Rings is a definitive text for Samurai, and is required reading.  It is a relatively short book, but one could study it for a lifetime and never fully understand all of its secrets.  Such was the genius of Murasama, the greatest swordsman to have ever lived.

I began to repeat Murasama's wisdom out loud, and the words traveled across the pond and echoed back to me, and I listened.  There is something about the sound a word makes that transcends its written form, and I began to hear them as if for the first time.  And I finally understood.

The Way of Walking Alone is not some esoteric riddle to be solved, it is a literal and unforgiving way of life.  You cannot truly understand it or benefit from it without giving into it completely.  I felt restless because my warrior's soul was rebelling against the life I have lead, and the mockery I was making of Murasama's instruction.

I sat there a while longer putting my thoughts in order and deciding the best way to correct my wrongful thinking, and to atone for my sins.  I then went home to begin the readjustment.  I spent the rest of that day and most of the next preparing myself, and then settled in to wait for my father.

When he got home he was surprised to find the outward transformation.  Gone from me were the embellishments of palace life, with only the minimum required of my station remaining.  I humbly explained that I was on a new path, one that I hoped would lead me to better understand the great teachings, that I had to do this to understand my proper place and to be worthy of him and of the Chrysanthemum Throne.

My father listened quietly, without expression, as I explained all of the things I had done and believed that I now knew were wrong, including coveting our family sword.  I left nothing out.

On and on I spoke, with the compassion and conviction of the reborn, and still my father remained as a statue.  When I finally had said all that I had to say, and had given plans and reasons, he smiled and said that he had been waiting a long time for this and had almost given up hope.  He explained that all of the pomp and ceremony, all of the embellishments, even the ancestral sword meant nothing to him but were required by his position.  He had been worried that this had set a bad example for me, and indeed it had, but now I saw my error.

"If you really want to follow The Way", he said, "you must first learn to be self-reliant.  You cannot do this at home.  You cannot do this anywhere the Shimazu name will be recognized, and our name shouts from the very heavens.  You will have to go far.  I will make arrangements for you to accompany a diplomatic mission that will soon leave for Waterdeep.  You should prepare yourself accordingly."

So here I sit watching the waves, listening to the sounds of the ship as everything I have ever known slides over the horizon.

Turbulent waters

Waves relentlessly pass

Carry my thoughts home

- Shimazu Yasuo

Davian Targana

Aasimar Sorcerer from the Shadowfell

Anlow and Rosalyn Targana were adventurers with the guild Protectors of the Faithful.  A small group, they roamed the land righting wrongs and doing their best to protect the downtrodden.  Anlow was a fighter, Rosalyn the cleric.  Normally they played defense, but often they arrived too late to prevent needless deaths.  Eventually the wizard of the group, Fenton Graylock, decided they should instead venture into the Shadowfell and take on the particular menace before it could venture above ground again.  Fenton had noticed it was the same evil entity, Corynax, that was directing the foot soldiers on their trips above ground.  

So it was that the Protectors of the Faithful ventured into the Shadowfell for what would be their last trip.  Rosalyn was 7 months pregnant at this point, but no matter what Anlow said, how much he pleaded for her to stay behind, she would do no such thing.  After several days in the Shadowfell, they had found their way to Corynax's lair.  Fierce fighting ensued, but the enemy was too strong and plentiful for the Protectors to overcome.  The rest of the party were slaughtered leaving only Anlow and Rosalyn, but soon Rosalyn was struck down by Corynax himself.  As she fell, Corynax reached a dark tendril into the fetus, planting the seed of evil deep within.  As emotions overcame Anlow, he nearly made a fatal move toward Corynax, but was stopped by a blindingly bright light that pierced the Shadowfell and the angel Mykiel descended, standing over the corpse of the cleric.  

As the sound of hissing and snarls surrounded them, Mykiel took out a dagger made of pure light and pierced the belly of Rosalyn.  He reached in, extracting the baby and wrapping it in a cloth, then handed it to Anlow.  Once this was done, Mykiel pulled the baby, Anlow and the corpse of Rosalyn out of the Shadowfell and back to the surface world.  Anlow didn't see Mykiel leave, but he also had a dead wife and a newborn, oddly healthy baby boy to contend with.  Anlow made camp, put his son Davian down to sleep, and buried his wife.  With this done, he studied his son and realized that he must be an Aasimar, and as such, would not be safe around others.  He hadn't seen an Aasimar before, but he knew the legends and what a baby should look like, and considering the way Davian was born, being an Aasimar made sense.  Over time he also noticed that Davian would go for days without blinking, which further cemented the feeling.

For the next year, food a baby could consume seemed to arrive in their campsite with regularity.  At the time that Davian could handle solid food, the deliveries came to a halt.  Anlow felt this must be due to the angel, but he never saw the delivery occur, even when he stayed up late with the hope of catching sight of it happening.  For the next 5 years Anlow would watch over his son at night and during the day hunt for their next meal.  He then started teaching Davian how to set simple snares, and Davian developed quite the knack for catching smaller wildlife.

In the evenings, Anlow would regale Davian with tales of his adventuring days, but discussing Rosalyn was always difficult.  Still, he wanted his son to know how brave and strong his mother was, so many of the stories featured her prominently.

As Mykiel had hoped, Anlow did his best to guide Davian down the path of good, teaching him morals and compassion.  He also did his best to prevent Davian from approaching travellers, as Anlow couldn't take the chance that they might bring harm to Davian.  He knew he was being paranoid, but he couldn't shake the fear that something bad would happen to Davian.

Around the time that Davian was 15, they were moving camp to a new location and stumbled upon a dead adventuring party.  Davian, always the curious one, picked up a wand from one of the piles of bones.  Suddenly the area around him turned into darkness; after a few moments light returned and Anlow could see pools of black in his eyes.  Though he was concerned and wanted to run, Anlow had a strong parental urge to rush to forward, but as he tried to move, Davian locked eyes with him and suddenly he was unable to move forward, and a horrible stench of rotten eggs surrounded him.  As Anlow slowly pushed forward, a beam of light, similar to what he saw in the Shadowfell, struck the area around Davian and a winged man decended.  As he landed, his hand settled on Davian's head, and he crumpled into a heap at the feet of the angel.  Anlow tumbled forward and rushed to his now limp son.  A voice appeared in his head, without the angel moving his mouth; the voice said "He has discovered his powers.  They are tainted by the Shadowfell.  He can be a powerful force for good, but he must be guided.  I will continue watching, but you must be there for him, continue showing him that good trumps evil."  With that, he ascended once again.  After some time, Davian returned.  Anlow never explained what happened for fear that it might make him look to the evil that lie within.

Over the next ten years, they continued moving around as they had over the previous years.  One day, they were moving camp into an area they hadn't been to before.  Davian was practicing a new spell that came to mind, and just as his father was beginning to tell him to be careful, Anlow dropped out of sight.  As Davian rushed to the pit, he found his father impaled on sharpened sticks.  No matter what Davian tried, he could not reach his father in time.  He strung a rope around a nearby tree and quickly lowered himself into the pit, just in time to hear his father's dying words "Make your mother proud, stay on the path of the light".  Darkness crept in, and he glimpsed a being in his peripheral vision.  He could hear a sinister voice say "Doooon't worrrrry Daaaavian, Iiiii'll stilllll be heeeeere, Iiiii'll beee heeeere untilllll the ennnnnnd".  While it made his skin crawl, it was oddly comforting during this time.  The light quickly returned, and after grieving for a moment he composed himself and worked to bring his father to the surface.

After burying his father and spending several days feeling lost, Davian decided to seek out the Protectors of the Faithful.  He wasn't sure if they were even still a group, but he was clinging to the one thing he had remaining and he wanted to do his best to fulfill his father's dying words.  In his father's stories, he knew that they had at one time resided in Waterdeep, so he started travelling.

Thia Liadon

Elven Wizard from Candlekeep

Thia Liadon was born into a distinguished family, one of both money and prestige. 

Theren, her father, lived a childhood deprived of most things that others took for granted.  Food was scarce, and toys were sticks and rocks.  However, Theren loved to devour books, anything he could get his hands on, and as such he became the best student in school.  Word spread, and soon the university reached out to him, extending an offer that included tuition, supplies, room and board.  The offer hadn’t even been fully uttered before Theren jumped in with “I accept”.  While at the university, he further impressed those in charge, and upon graduation he was given the chance to teach.  He excelled at this, with the students attending his classes far exceeding the abilities of those in other classes.  A few years before Thia’s birth, her father was granted the title and office of High Mage.  In the course of his duties, a member of the Emerald Enclave came to town, bearing a particularly old tome of lore.  He had long been interested in such tomes, and so he met her personally to help with the translation.  This meeting would lead to other meetings, to courtship, and finally to marriage and children.

Thia’s mother, Ielenia, led an interesting life before this fateful encounter.  The daughter of an Emerald Enclave member, she lived her life in preparation to fight at her father’s side.  Every spare moment of her childhood was devoted to training, and after a decade of this she was given a chance to go with some members of the Enclave on a quest to retrieve an item of power.  She excelled, as everyone had expected she would, and even distinguished herself while in the heat of combat.  After five more years of adventuring, she was finally ready to go on the most important missions.  A further two years passed when a group she was with came upon a set of books, one of which no one in the Enclave could read.  Sensing great power within this tome, she set out to the nearby city of Candlekeep and the school of magic therein.  She left with a translation, and a request by the translator to see her again.  Something about him left her wanting to learn more, and spend more time with him, so she returned, as she would multiple times in the coming months.

Initially, this union of high elf (father) and wood elf (mother) was viewed negatively by a segment of the community.  However, between the station that Theren held and the respect that the citizens had for the Emerald Enclave, those who were skeptical and opposed to it softened over time, and all was eventually forgotten.

As much as Ielenia loved the adventuring life, she also felt the tug of motherhood.  After marriage but before children arrived, Ielenia would continue adventuring.  While Theren was opposed to it at some level, he also smiled at the thought of his beloved chopping her way through dungeons, conquering foes he had only read about.  However, once the first child was born, Ielenia left that life behind. She still felt the tug, but she often felt the literal tug of her children and thought she might be able to instill that same sense of adventure in them.  In Thia, it seemed that she had.

Thia grew up listening to stories her mother would tell, and occasionally glimpse her father smiling at these stories.  She loved the idea of walking in her mother’s shoes, but she also had a very studious side, which her father tried to foster.  So it was that she studied during the day and went on “adventures” until dark.  While this sometimes presented issues for her parents, they loved seeing Thia grow to embrace both of their personalities.

Continuing in her father’s footsteps, she enrolled in the University.  Thia thrived in this environment, yet she also had a constant struggle in that she wanted to take every class and read every book in the library.  This was fueled both by her curiosity and by the stories her mother told.  She knew that the monsters her mother described in her fun adventure stories were a persistent threat, and as she grew older she become more intent on using the knowledge and skills she was learning to protect her family and her people.

Midway through her time at the University, her encyclopedic knowledge of the books in the library helped her secure a position as a librarian.  While not as impressive as the nearby Candlekeep Library, the University library was still an impressive collection of tomes.  Thia was practically doing backflips as she got the news, she would now have complete access to the library, and she took advantage of this in the years that followed.

Toward the end of her time at the University, her father came to her with a task.  Thia was the best scribe in the university due to her work in the library and her drive to excel in her classes, and he felt that this task was worthy of her burgeoning talents.  Word reached Theren that the legendary scholar Volo Geddarm was in Waterdeep working on a new tome, and he wanted to acquire a copy of it.  Suddenly the thirst for adventure came rushing back after having been suppressed for several years, so Thia lept at the chance without a moment’s hesitation.  A few days later, she was on her way to Waterdeep.

Quinn Alimar

Half-Elven Cleric of Tempus from Waterdeep

To tell the origin of young Quinn Alimar is to begin at sea where a half-elven maiden met a half-elven man on a voyage to Waterdeep. Both had procured passage on board the Quadrille to seek their fortunes. The ship was small. The voyage, thankfully tedious, provided ample opportunity for the pair to acquaint themselves with one another.

A few days prior to docking in Waterdeep, Corila Irolynn and Vicyeras Alimar united their hands in marriage. The captain of the Quadrille performed the ceremony with the crew as witnesses to the union. The atmosphere became festive as the crew celebrated the new couple. After a modest feast the two immediately began their honeymoon in Vicyeras’ cabin.

The Quadrille docked in Waterdeep a few days later where the new couple disembarked and started looking for opportunities. Vicyeras was a skilled craftsman and Corila had a penchant towards writing. Corila was first to find a position. The job was within the Castle Ward as a scribe for the courts in the Halls of Justice. She kept documentation of the legal proceedings regarding property ownership in Waterdeep. Corila’s income, along with the modest sum of money they arrived with allowed them to rent out a section of a nearby home.

A strange event occurred months after the beginning of Corila’s new job. During a break, Corila discovered a note and a small bag of gems in her coat pocket. She had recalled a stranger bumping into her on the steps in front of the Halls of Justice. The note contained instructions to forge a set of documents indicating ownership of a currently abandoned warehouse on the docks should be Ironpaw. The note ended with the mention that failure to comply would not be wise.

Corila went home that night and shared the event with Vicyeras. They both decided going down this path would only lead to trouble. Corila and Vicyeras concluded going to a judge within the Halls of Justice is the only way. That is what Corila attempted to do the next day. She arrived an hour earlier in an attempt to locate a justice only to be turned away by the bureaucracy. Determined to do the right thing, Corila stayed late after her shift to locate any justice who would hear her tale. The fates seemed against her as no one would grant access.

Stymied, Corila went home. Upon entering their home, she could not find Vicyeras. Looking around, she spied a plate that appeared out of place on the table. Another note was placed under the misplaced plate. The note stated plainly to forge the set of documents or Vicyeras would never be heard from again. Any attempt to bring this to the attention of any policing bodies would result in Vicyeras’ unpleasant demise.

Being relatively new to Waterdeep, Corila had no real choice in the matter. The next day, after a sleepless night spent forging the ownership papers, she reported to work. Corila gained access to the immense records hall with the forged documents held close under her clothing. Seeing her opportunity, Corila slipped the papers in among the other deeds of ownership. She quickly exited the records section with her heart beating hard, loud enough to nearly deafen her. Upon returning to her desk, she sat and blankly stared into space as the realization of what had occurred sunk in.

Seemingly moments later, a Magister was looking down at Corila. The Magister did not waste any time and outright accused Corila of forging the documents and placing them within the Hall of Records. Corila couldn’t utter a sentence and merely emptied her pockets, showing the Magister the two notes. Each of the notes were examined by the Magister. He looked back to Corila and asked what kind of proof was offered by blank bits of parchment. Corila could only stammer, dumbfounded that the only proof of her being blackmailed was nothing more than scratch paper.

The Magister tried Corila on the spot and sentenced her to six months in prison. She was taken away immediately in shackles and tears. During the period of carrying out her sentence, Corila became aware of the baby she was carrying. This one small bit of happiness provided her the strength to endure her sentence. After what seemed an eternity, Corila was released.

She immediately headed back to her home, only to find it rented out to another family. The property owner claiming he had no idea what had become of the Alimars and after three months, had to offer the rooms to another family. He’d not heard or seen Vicyeras in the six months passing. He gave back Corila her few possessions and told her to move on.

Corila was accepted as a lowly servant to The Portly Baron, one of the lesser inns in the Northern Ward. The work was hard, made harder while carrying a child. When Corila felt the birth of her child was imminent, she made way to the local clerics of Sylvanus. Shortly after her arrival at the temple, she gave birth to Quinn. The clerics allowed Corila to stay until her strength had returned.

Given the lack of options, Corila returned to the The Portly Baron to continue working. The inn keeper begrudgingly allowed her back and to care for Quinn. Life was difficult bringing up a child while continuously keeping the inn clean. When old enough, Quinn began to help out. He was willing to help his mom, especially upon discovering the mouthfuls of food that could be snuck here and there. Growing up in the inn was a constant balancing act of performing chores and sneaking enough food for him and his mom to eat.

Quinn’s chore list became longer and longer as he grew up. The work was hard and the boss unappreciative. Quinn took note of every put-down against his mom and took vengeance through acts ranging from small bit of vandalism to outright thievery. His rebellious acts did not go unnoticed however.

Quinn was at work, seeing to the drinks for the patrons one busy night. He ducked and weaved through the inebriated throngs, barely missing steins, elbows and boots. Steins filled to the brim were delivered to the tables with nary a spilled drop. In the midst of the festive atmosphere, the better bits of food and a few coins were liberated from the clientele. In particular, an attractive scroll case found its way into Quinn’s hands. The night continued well into the rising dawn.

After a few winks of sleep, Quinn woke and took stock of the night’s haul. The scroll case was the most interesting item in the small pile of treasures. Opening it up revealed floor plans for the mansion of a nearby lord. The detail was complete, down to every last square foot. Everything a builder, or an aspiring thief would need to know.

Little did Quinn realize the opening of the scroll case set a series of events in motion. The case was planted to be snatched up. The opening caused a wizard mark to be cast onto Quinn albeit unknown to him at the time. This event allowed the one who planted the case to be snatched to be notified when it was indeed opened.

That afternoon, Quinn stepped out back to take out the trash. An elf dressed in dark hooded robes was in the alleyway and approached Quinn. The elf introduced herself as Keely the Smile. Upon the introduction, the elf bowed low allowing only her broad grin to be seen from under her hood. Quinn took a step back, instantly nervous at the stranger’s appearance. Keely made a quick motion and uttered a strange verbalization. The image of a smile began to glow on the back of Quinn’s right hand. Keely the Smile talked about the scroll case and how she had arranged for it to find its way into Quinn’s possession. She persuaded him to join her and her band of thieves that night or face the City Watch. Once again, an Alimar was being blackmailed.

Quinn made arrangements to get away from the inn on the pretense of running a message for one of the patrons. With some clever persuasion the inn keeper reluctantly agreed to allow for Quinn to leave. Quinn raced out to the pre-arranged meeting spot. While en route, he became nervous about the ordeal. Should something happen to him, his mother would be crushed given Quinn hadn’t said anything to her about this scheme. He was too worried of what his mother would think of him as the thought of disappointing her was too much to even contemplate. It wasn’t an option. She couldn’t find out.

The shady corner in the back of a non-descript alley was the gathering point for the crew. Quinn entered the alley, cautiously making his way to the end. Two dark elves were already occupying the back corner. As Quinn approached them, an audible sneer was uttered by one of the pair. The unmistakable sound of a weapon being unsheathed reached Quinn’s ears, barely registering above his own heart pounding away. Before any had a chance to take this potential encounter any further, The Smile dropped down from the rooftop. A quick hiss towards the pair froze the duo. With a quick whisper in a strange tongue, the situation was defused. The Smile rose up and motioned for Quinn to join them. Quinn did so, figuring there was no backing out at this point.

After procuring the map back from Quinn, The Smile quickly went over the plan to rob the mansion. The duo would create a distraction at the front of the house, diverting attention away from the rear. There, The Smile and Quinn would enter the home through a second story window made accessible by a large tree growing on the grounds. They would quickly make their way down the hall to the vault at the end of the hallway. There was a small access point to the vault which would be hidden in the room according to the plans. Quinn was small enough to enter the access tunnel and open the vault. After that, take the most valuable treasures, close the vault and exfiltrate out the same window they entered.

The crew set out to begin the job without a sound. They moved swiftly along the streets, careful not to stray into the light any more than necessary. Quinn jogged along to keep up, stepping where the others stepped, moving like they moved. The mansion came into view. The Smile and Quinn split off from the pair of dark elves and approached the rear entrance. There were two guards on patrol, each walking the grounds in a lazy sort of way. A large crash was heard from around the front. The diversion had begun. The guards snapped to and gave each other a quick glance. One dashed around to the front while the other took up a central position near the house. The Smile uttered to Quinn “Go up to the gate and pretend you are lost.”

Quinn hesitated for a moment. The hesitation ended upon a sharp look from The Smile. Quinn walked up to the back gate and began softly sobbing. The guard, hearing Quinn’s cries approached the back gate. “What’s up with you boy?” the guard inquired. Before Quinn could come up with any kind of lie, a blade appeared at the guard’s throat and quickly drew across it. A red mist painted the darkness briefly. The guard, completely caught by surprise slumped without a sound. The Smile drug the body into the hedges and opened the back gate. Quinn caught a look of sheer delight on The Smile’s face when a lantern lit her face momentarily.

The pair approached the tree to access the second story window. They quickly made their way up without so much as a crinkle of a leaf or snap of a branch. Two quick leaps and they were inside the manor. The plans appeared to be completely accurate. They strode silently down the hall to the vault room. The Smile stopped by the door and pointed out the secret access point to the vault. Quinn quickly made his way across the room to the lower section of the wall to the left of the vault door. Sure enough, the small door swung open upon clicking a small imperfection in the baseboard. Quinn got on all fours and crawled inside.

Once inside, the back door swung shut quickly. He pressed against the door only to discover it wouldn’t open. Glancing around in a panic, Quinn saw another door in front of him with a strange set of symbols on it. He had no idea how to read them or what they could possibly mean. He ran his hand along them and found they lit up when contacted. This brief moment of amusement came to an abrupt halt when the sound of pounding boots came into the main vault room. Quinn heard a muffled discussion taking place. He frantically hit all the symbols in a random order hoping it would get him further away. A loud wail began emanating from the panel as the floor gave way to a chute. Quinn slid down into a cell. A fast look around told Quinn that he was trapped. His heart sank, wondering what his mother would think when he didn’t return or worse, if she found out he had tried to rob this manor.

Quinn buried his head in shame as the weight of the situation bore down on him. Eventually, sounds of men descending the stairs echoed into the cell. The door to the cell area flung open. A guard and a man dressed in fine robes entered. The guard looked down upon Quinn in contempt. “We ought to string him up in front of the house as a warning to other thieves,” said the guard. “He slit Gil’s throat.”

“Nonsense,” said the finely dressed man. “Look at him. He’s merely a child who made a mistake. I would guess he was charmed or coerced into this.”

The guard looked in and begrudgingly agreed. “I suppose there is no blood anywhere on him, not to mention he would have needed a ladder. Still he is guilty of attempted robbery. I’ll inform the City Watch to come…”

“Hold there,” the well dressed man interjected. “I’d like to chat with our young robber here. Please leave us for now. I’ll call for you if I need you.”

The guard shook his head slightly but did not utter any objections. He left Quinn and the finely dressed man to their talk.

“I am Godfrey Lanset, lord of this manor,” said the finely dressed man. “Please tell me how it is you came to be in my trap.”

Quinn looked up at the man, seeing him for the first time. A kindly and well-groomed bearded face appeared through his fingers. Quinn broke down immediately, telling the tale of the events of the night so quickly he scarcely took any breaths. Lord Lanset called up for the butler to bring down some tea. Five minutes later, a well-dressed figure appeared with a tea set. Two cups were poured. Lord Lanset dismissed the butler and offered one of the cups to Quinn. Quinn cautiously reached out and took in the cup, holding the warm vessel close.

“Now, let’s hear that tale again at half speed,” smiled Lord Lanset.

Quinn took a sip of the tea, secretly delighting in its flavor. He did tell Lord Lanset once again, the full details of the night, leaving nothing out. Lord Lanset nodded along, taking in all the points of the story. Once the events were all told and understood, Lord Lanset became serious in his demeanor.

“Young Quinn, I want you to listen to me as I have to you,” said Lord Lanset. “This path you are on is one with nothing but dead ends. Looking at you, I see a great potential within you and that would be a shame to waste. I have an offer I’d like for you to entertain.”

Quinn perked up, not believing his own senses.

“I see I do have your attention,” said Lord Lanset. “Good. I propose the following. You go with me to the Temple of Tempus, the god of war. Not just wholesale slaughter mind you. War has to have rules and guidelines or civilization would break down.”

Quinn continued to listen intently, holding onto the teacup the entire time.

“There you will learn discipline and be given a purpose in life,” said Lord Lanset. “I will sponsor you in entrance to the ranks of the Hammers of Tempus. You will work and study in an effort to make the world a safer and better place. Do this and we will be even.”

Quinn swallowed hard, realizing the option laid in front of him might provide a way to a more fulfilling life, both for he and his mother. This also would keep him out of jail which would destroy his mother. Realizing this was not only the best option but an amazing opportunity, Quinn accepted the offer. Lord Lanset smiled and rose up. He reached for the key to the cell and paused briefly.

“I will be checking in on you, either directly or indirectly and will hear of any misdeeds,” said Lord Lanset solemnly. “I need your word as a man that you swear to an honorable path.”

Quinn took in the words. Lord Lanset offered his hand. Quinn took a deep breath and shook Lord Lanset’s hand.

“Your new life will begin immediately,” announced Lord Lanset.