The Twisted Dagger

         Jerek sighed, he was a little man. Always has been, always will be. But knowing that never made him compliant with settling for what he was given. He stood up from the stool at the bar of his favorite tavern, The Black Eagle, turned and faced the man who was putting him down. He was a big man; his little over six feet body was filled out nicely by cut, trim muscle. Jerek couldn’t help but sigh again, he was going to have to fight this man, and for no good reason other than because he was little; it was always like that. The ruffian was just another example of the kind of people a place like this attracts; big, ugly, covered with scars, and a good brawler.

         Jerek looked around the older tavern and took in every patron, every sight as he tried to find a way out of this mess. He could smell the rancid, puke breath of the passed out person next to him on the bar. Such a smell was common for any tavern in the Pitil district. Also on par with the Pitil district standard was the number of fights that broke out in The Black Eagle. With no city guard to break them up, they often turned deadly.

         Jerek didn’t like fighting, but he didn’t survive on the streets of Yuj by being a push over. He lifted his angular face to look the man in the eyes. The man said, “That’s my seat you are in. No one sits in my seat and keeps their face.”

         Jerek responded calmly but highly annoyed, “Now I’m sure we can settle this, how about I just change seats. You can have this one.”

          “No it’s too late for that little man,” he said. “My seat is supposed to be empty when I get here, it wasn’t. Now you have to pay the price.” And with that he lifted his right hand and swung down with the force to knock down a giant. Jerek quickly sidestepped the blow and unsheathed his dagger from within his sleeve. He rolled behind the assailant and used that dagger to a devastating effect. Jerek quickly cut the man's hamstrings on both legs before the ruffian could turn around.

         The few patrons in the run down bar hardly gave it a thought, as long as it didn't concern them who cared. The bartender grimaced as he saw the blood spilling out of both of the deep gashes in the man's legs. Jerek flipped him a silver coin, his last one, for the mess.

          “It’s over,” Jerek stated to the man lying on the ground rolling in pain. Between growls of agony, the foolish man kept talking.

          “When I get a hold of you I’m going to rip your scrawny ass in half, you hear.” Jerek kept walking; he would not stay around long enough for the fool to force Jerek into killing him. He hated to kill, it was a necessity he would rather avoid.

         Exiting the building, Jerek turned his body to the west of the massive city of Yuj. Yuj was a city spanning the entire “known” world. Everybody knew there was more out there to the east and south but nobody had reason to leave the city. There is a place for everybody; all you had to do was look. And look Jerek did; for almost his entire childhood Jerek searched of a place within Yuj were he could thrive. His answer was one he did not like, crime. Jerek's small frame, quick and nimble hands, and intelligence made him the perfect thief. Jerek sighed yet again, he was not happy with his life but those who ignored their calling in Yuj didn't survive to find another.

         Jerek snapped out of his trance and glanced about and realized he was almost upon his turn. The streets of Yuj were crowded even at night. Jerek sometimes found it hard to move through the crowd during the day, but at night when it was slightly less crowded, his five foot three inch frame allowed him to sneak about quite subtly and quickly. He took his turn down a small, dark, and damp alleyway. In the shadows he saw the eerie, red glow of infrared eyes, and a small figure stepped out of the darkness into the small amount of light the moon provided. Jerek called out “Well met,” to his friend Dorn.

         Dorn was one of the few people shorter than Jerek in south Yuj. He was a halfling, a rouge halfling to be exact. He was exiled from the halfling guild in the very northern part of Yuj, for reasons he still won’t share with Jerek. Like Jerek Dorn did what he was good at to survive this massive city. He had some fun with stealing from the wealthy, often cracking jokes at the lord’s expense, but he had less of a heart than even Jerek for serious crimes.

         "You’re late," the perturbed halfling responded.

         Jerek could see that his friend was a little flustered, “Sorry, my friend, I was held up by a thug at The Black Eagle." Dorn was usually a relaxed fellow who would be the first to crack a wise comment, but not when it was this time of the month. Jerek could see the doubt in his partner's face, the same look that he knew his own faced portrayed.

         "I don't even know why you still go there, you don't even drink," said Dorn. Jerek noticed that he didn't ask about the thug. He decided it was best if he just dropped the subject and moved on to the rather unpleasant business at hand.

         "Did you acquire the specs?" asked Jerek.

         "Yes, the plan is going completely unhindered. We will finish it tonight." Dorn's dark brown eyes meet his own as he finished the statement. Jerek could see the relief in his eyes that this would be the last one, after tonight the two of them would live clean lives. This particular theft will give them financial freedom for the rest of his life and a good portion of his longer living friend's as well. Their employer will pay them well upon the mission’s completion.

         Although fair and compassionate, the mistress was not one who took failure lightly. She was a powerful fighter as well as an extremely talented wizard. She was a dual threat. But the reward will be worth it and besides they never fail.

         "Very good, then lets get this over with, shall we?" asked Jerek.

         Dorn nodded, and with that the two friends were off into the dark and inhospitable streets of Yuj. They slinked from shadow to shadow, through the streets, leaving no clue of their passing to the people inhabiting them.

         They made their way north toward the middle of the giant city. After passing through several districts, they came to their destination in the Lio district. The manor of Lord Threves was nice, but not up to par with the mansions that surrounded him. He was a minor lord of no great importance to the politics of Yuj. But it was Lord Threves who held one of the fabled dragon stone.

         Legend told of the dragon stones giving its possessor dominion over dragons, but this was just a legend. The only reason they sought it was for the price it would fetch on the black market as a rare stone, though it is not one of a kind. They had a particular reason for targeting Lord Threves' stone. Threves could not afford to take a hit to his reputation and would not report the stone missing, as it is one of the few things keeping him at the status of Lord.

         The words spoken by Jerek back in the alley would be the last ones uttered by them until they were back in that very same alley. They had worked with one another long enough to know their place in any situation that could arise. Jerek looked down at his friend and noticed him thumbing a scroll in his pocket. That scroll was the safety net to their plan. If all else failed they just had to grab the dragon stone and use the scroll of teleportation to transit back to the alley they had met in. These scrolls were rare and a minor lord such as Threves will not have the safeguards in place to prevent casting such a spell. Dorn had been saving this scroll specifically for this pivotal mission.

         Following the detailed plan they had spent the better part of the month formulating, the two companions entered through the front door. After all, they were hired a year ago as Threves' personal scouts and informants, in order to prevent the theft of the dragon stone. 'How ironic,' Jerek thought. That they would be employed to steal the very thing Threves hired them to protect.

         The guard was limited tonight as the recent illness had inactivated most of the house guard. They decided to play it cautious, and not over use their positions authority, by sneaking by the patrol and into the treasure room via air vent. Jerek's heart sped up as his adrenaline began to pump. His body always reacted this way before a crime, and his stomach always felt as if it was going to churn. Before entering the throne room, Jerek calmed his body down and forced his thoughts away from the crime and to achieving a goal. It was the only way he could get himself to commit such atrocities.

         The treasure room wasn't much of one; it was named by Threves' and spoke volumes of his ego. The plain, cold stone walls hindered any awe affect the few artifacts it held might have inspired. In the center of the small room was Threves' prized possession, the dragon stone. It sat up on a pedestal in the shape of a human hand, palm facing up. Jerek resisted the urge to grab the stone from its throne.

         Once inside, Dorn hardly made such an attempt, as he went immediately for the dragon stone, and howled with pain upon coming in contact with it. He threw the now glowing stone at the back wall and yelled," the wizard said nothing of this, she betrayed me." Jerek couldn't believe it, the stones were not supposed to have any real magical properties. He had held a different one before and this did not happen. Before he could go to his friend's aid he suddenly found himself fighting off two skilled swordsmen. Both of whom were towering over him at over six feet. Dorn had his hands full with a third warrior. After several intense minutes of fending of the two guards, they managed two knock both of his daggers to the stone floor. Jerek immediately fled to the back of the room.

         He thanked his luck when he noticed a peculiar twisted dagger in the remains of a glass case that had been shattered by Dorn throwing the dragon stone. Jerek picked it up and instantly knew something was wrong with the dagger, but had no time to think on it as he was preoccupied with fighting for his life.

         "Quick Dorn, use the scroll," yelled Jerek.

         Dorn didn't respond as he was in the process of doing just that. And in a mere second Jerek was looking upon a very familiar alley way. He blew a huge sigh of relief.

         "Now what," exclaimed Dorn. "We were supposed to use the scroll of teleportation after we had possession of the dragon stone. Our employer will have our heads!"

         "Now she won't," replied Jerek. "She won't know were to find us after we leave for the coast."

         "Run, you want to run!" cried Dorn. "I don't know if you realize this, but we don't have any money. We have failed this time; there is no income and no reserves to run with."

         "We don't have a choice, Dorn" said Jerek. "If we stay here we are doomed for sure, if we leave at least we have a shot at survival. We have nothing to lose."

         "I know," yelled the very frustrated halfling. Jerek could see the pain in his friend’s eyes. He felt sorry for his friend; he knew that Dorn couldn't handle stress very well. He was not cut out to be a criminal.

         "Don't worry my friend, when we get out of this we will leave Yuj a find us a new life. One that we want to live, not forced to," said Jerek, trying to comfort his friend.

         "When we get out of this, you assume we are going too," Dorn scolded but his heart was not in it. Jerek could see a glimmer of hope in his friends deep brown eyes. Jerek did his job; he was going to have to be the strong one here.

         The two friends quickly made their plans for their flight to the west coast of Yuj. All the while Jerek kept looking at that twisted dagger, the weapon was plain and not worthy of being in the same room as the dragon stone; if you go by looks. Its hilt was made of plain, gray steel, and there was no color to the whole thing. The only interesting thing was the blade of the weapon; it twisted like a spiral stair case, and was not effective in battle. Jerek couldn't help but to feel that something was wrong with it, some thing was perverse. He wanted nothing more than to throw it away and rid himself of its vile presence. Jerek shook his head; he would contemplate on it later, for now he would concentrate on running for his life.