Beltai’s shadow loomed onto the dock below, the moon of the night sky illuminating the port of the ship she was gazing out from. As she stared out over the starboard side of The Gantry, the wisps of the night pulsed slowly, appearing as tiny as flames from a candle for mere seconds at a time, before slowly receding back to darkness. The docks sparkled, the luminescence of the night reflecting off the water and the lanterns of Talendel shining from the nearby coast.

The Gantry slowly rocked softly with the waves, a quiet yet persistent reminder of the power in the ocean below. Despite the evening, Beltai stood - frozen - chewing her lip and steadily willing breath in through her nose and out through her mouth.

Her alertness brought her attention to the slowly approaching drum of boots on the deck. She watched through her peripherals as a hulking shadow came up from behind and its owner came to stand still to her right.

The two stood together; lost in a non-specific line of thought that somehow, after several minutes of silence, Beltai perceived to align with each other. Appearing to confirm this, Shamand grunted, a baritone huff coming from the throat that rasped even through closed lips.

A figure appeared in the distance, slowly meandering up from the city. Beltai perked up at the sight of him, but as he stumbled past her dock, and with him appearing to have the stature of a child wearing broken glasses, she became aware of her paranoia and silently willed the tension of the night away. This was a night like any other; soon her cargo would arrive and The Gantry would leave Talendel, going back off to The Capital where it and all the mysterious stones like it could be monitored and studied. Every other mission akin to this had gone smoothly, and there was no reason to believe that this one would be any different.

Yet, still she was comforted by Shamand’s powerful presence beside her.

Orion had thought that binoculars were cool, so he couldn't help but be overwhelmed with pride as he mentally evaluated the spectacles he had built for himself.

As he stumbled past the dock imitating the gait of a drunk, he reached up and flicked a monocle optic attached to his spectacles frame over his dominant eye, and glanced in the direction of the massive ship at the end of the pier. Closing his other eye, the monocle over his glasses lens zoomed and enhanced his vision, bringing the extraordinary contrast of size between the two figures on the deck to Orion's attention. One of them - the significantly smaller one - looked at him with a penetrating coldness while the man next to her utilized his height to survey the dock.
  

Thaaat’s right… just a harmless drunk, don't think twice about it he urged to the powers that be - and The Service members. The Service may have a reputation for being tough as nails, but in Orion's experience tough and smart were antithetical to each other. They probably didn't even realize how old he was.

Emphasizing a final stumble he rounded a corner and lost sight of the ship as a storage shed came between him and the pier with the Service members. Sarg wouldn't be happy if he found out Orion had snuck off to the docks to glimpse their victims, but in thirteen years of life he STILL had yet to have seen a Service ship. How would he ever be able to sustain a life with Sarg if he didn’t even know what they were running from?

That said, a glimpse had satisfied his thirst, and feeling happy with his actions he decided - not out of fear (he reminded himself), but - simply out of care for the mission at hand, it was in his best interest to go meet up with Sarg and the rest before he was late.

Flicking his monocle up off of his spectacles, and walking more steadily than before, he took off with a brisk but unassuming pace through the cobbled streets towards Talendel.

Wisps dotting his surroundings, Orion thought the walk to the city was beautiful. He liked being out this late, the light of the moon painting the landscape before him with shadows that somehow didn't feel eerie, the wisps pulsing to comfort those still out wandering the night. All was as it should be.

Soon the city began to manifest around Orion. It was a relatively quaint town, constructed of mostly wood and cobble, absent of the domes and pillars that had in recent years begun to fill major cities. First he passed a couple fishing merchant huts with their lights out, then a church with twin spires, and before long the lights of the city surrounded him. Strung between buildings were lanterns and from a tavern down the street Orion thought he heard a barkeep shouting about a man making a mess. There was a soft sound of water turning a wheel nearby and Orion, inconspicuously tucking himself into his jacket, ducked from the streets into a nearby building with the lights out, and a big sign on the front that said “Baked Goods too good for the name!”

The door was lighter than Orion had thought it would be, so as he shouldered the door open he stumbled in slightly more off balance than he would have liked to present himself to the others. Luckily for him, the only other in the room was Sarg, who stood in the shadows of a corner staring out the window out at an angle so anyone looking in wouldn’t overtly see a shadowy figure staring back at them.

Orion caught Sarg’s eyes as he tripped in, quickly recovering himself and feigning nonchalance. Sarg covered a slight curvature of his lips by quickly looking out on the street for Orion's sake, but Orion saw the light in his eyes. Somehow however, that light erased his embarrassment instead of promoting it. That was the power of Sarg. Even hiding in a corner of an empty bakery shrouded by shadows, wearing an intimidating black cloak and bearing the stature of being someone you'd not want to pick a fight with, something about him was easy going and lifted the spirit of the room.

“You’re early,” he spoke, remaining stoic despite his slight smile “I appreciate it, that's good.”

“Yea well, don't wanna get fired on my first day.” Orion said, pulling out a chair on the opposite side of the room before softly sitting down with his legs tucked under him. The space was small, almost entirely wood and wider than it was long. A counter was on one end, behind which lay a shelf holding a series of empty baskets with cloth inside; likely there to display bread to customers during business hours. There was a doorway that appeared to lead to the back room where the bread was likely baked.

“You’d be surprised how many people don't show up to their first job,” Sarg chuckled. “It takes guts to outshine them at thirteen.”

“It takes remarkably few brain cells to not show up to a job led by you,” Orion punctuated with a smile.

“Well I’m glad you're as confident as you are, the courage of an ‘immortal’ youth might serve you well tonight.” He stood up and carefully walked up to Orion. “Just don't let it override what lies between your ears.”

“Psh, my eyesight is fine,” Orion said, brushing Sarg off. “Especially with these spectacles!” He said, flourishing down the extra lens with confidence. Sarg let out a throaty chuckle, and broke eye contact. “What are you laughing at?”

“Orion you are somethin-”

CRASH

The loud clang of metal rang out from the backroom quickly followed by a yelp. At first Sarg leaped to alertness before a figure stepped into sight holding a metal tray and looking thoroughly annoyed. “Stars above Tavin,” Sarg hissed, “wake up the whole damn neighborhood, why don't you?”

The tall, lanky, and remarkably slim man simply shrugged, glanced behind him, and then ducked as an almost entire loaf of bread sailed through the air exactly where his head had been. “Skinny Bastard -”  a gruff voice said from the backroom, “ - we’re aboutta rob the goddamn Service and you draw the line at a loaf of day old Bread…” Tavin stood back up, chest high, and - after waiting for the bellows to end - shrugged again.

The owner of the voice: a short, stout, and incredibly muscular man, appeared in the doorway shoving past Tavin.

“Yaran, remember that conversation about your temper?” Sarg said calmly. “Well now is not the time to lose it.”

“Yea, well just trying to fill his stomach before a job doesn't warrant a concussion,” Yaran spat while glaring at Tavin. Tavin, with zero menace in his eyes, met his stare. Of the two, Orion thought he should be more afraid of Yaran. The short man's thick beard and massive arms were intimidating to be sure, but you never had a doubt about what he was thinking. Tavin on the other hand…the lanky man seemed as emotional as a statue. His pale features, and sharp nose made him hard to notice at first, but once you did, his presence seemed almost abrasive. “Oh, you’re REAL proud, aren't ya, big man?” Yaran said beneath his breath. “Not afraid if my backs turned, huh? well I had the courtesy to leave you be while you picked the back door lock, but you just wait for next time ya pale son-of-a…” Yarans words faded into what was clearly a list of inarticulate slurs as Yaran broke their staring contest and went to stare out the window where Sarg had been moments before.

Tavin, without blinking ever so slightly grinned and spoke in a fashion Orion thought was similar to a snake. “Annoying…” He calmly set down the tray.

Sarg, shaking his head at the interaction, looked at Orion and from smirking lips said, “I swear, with the old married couple here…”

Yaran, cutting off his tirade, shot Sarg a glare that could cut glass. Sarg raised his hands in surrender, but the tension in the room started to fade.

Orion looked up at Sarg who returned the look with his lighthearted features. The man looked surprisingly youthful for being in his mid-thirties. “Now that we’re all here…?” Orion began to say.

“Yea, we can get going,” Sarg said. “We don't wanna be here when the bakers jump into their day, especially if Yaran dug into their "goods "."

“Shitty day old bread not worthy of the title…” the man coughed under his breath from his perch in the corner.

“Yea, ok, let’s go,” said Sarg ushering Yaran towards the back and presumably the back door. Tavin quickly followed. Orion was about to follow suit before Sarg caught him by the shoulder and turned him around. He lowered himself into a crouch to be level height with Orion and said, “This is not me questioning your capability, but I have to emphasize the importance of you looking out for yourself -”

Orion had heard this a million times. “Yes, Sarg,” he said, cutting him off.

“You know I hate it when you call me that.”

“I know, but it just makes me feel-”

“Like you’ve earned your spot, not that you were handed it, I know.” Sarg said. “But I earned the title of Dad. Or Father, or Pop, or Poppa Pirate or…ya know what? I like that one, let's stick with Poppa Pirate.” He grinned and Orion felt a slight surge of shame that made him look down. “Hey” Sarg or…Poppa Pirate said, lifting his chin. “I'm happy you’re here. Genuinely. But as your Dad I just need a final assurance that you’re going to prioritize your safety tonight, not the job. I know you know the plan, and I KNOW you can play your part; but this is Big Game, and I can't have you getting hurt, alright?” His grin disappeared and he punctuated his sentence with a stern lift of his eyebrow.
           

“I promise, Dad”

“Thanks,” he said. “Now how easy was that?” Sarg grinned again and stood up. “After you, Orion” and he gestured to the back door, and to Orion's first big time robbery.

It was another thirty minutes before they were in position.

Once Orion had stepped out of the Bakery, he had realized how stuffy the tiny building had been, but the shop had served its purpose. Hopefully the owners wouldn't be too upset to find one of their loaves of bread on the floor with a bite out of it in the morning, now just a few short hours away. Orion wasn't worried though, he'd be long gone.

The Wisps still shone throughout the moonlit night, calmly pulsing. The bright moon - though not full - was still commanding the sky- illuminating the land to a breathtaking degree.

Orion crouched on the roof of a white wooden building on the inland side of Talendel. In the distance behind him he could hear the force of the water lapping against the coast; but with the lights and city of Talendel blocking his vision that was the only indication of the nearby ocean.

His job was simple. Orion had a history of being hard to spot. Being quiet and small may have plenty of difficulties, but sneaking was not one of them - which was always a nice backup.

The group has received information from their buyer of the nature of what they were here for - as well as its general location - but not much else. They knew that whatever they were looking for had recently appeared in Talendel. It wasn’t supposed to be particularly large, but was likely under both heavy surveillance and tight lock and key. They had discovered that it was being held in Manifortuam Warehouse, a large, mostly cobblestone building on the outskirts of the city that held many of the city's reserves of food, and trade goods. It stood next to the very hut Orion currently stood on, at a cul-de-sac-esque end of the road with two other similar huts on the other side.

Their buyer had also known that The Service would be here tonight to collect the item.

Sarg always says that any difficult job just needs to be broken down into simple and specific elements. Here they needed to: discover the exact location of the item in Manifortuam Warehouse, evade city guard, relieve Talendel of The Good in the night and quickly leave.

Sarg’s answer to the first question utilized the presence of The Service. Yes, it was risky to try to carry out the job at the last possible moment, but previous scouting runs had not successfully revealed the location of their treasure so, it seemed, the job would have to occur in tandem with The Service picking up the item.

That provided the extra loophole of using The Service to reveal the location of their Good, and then removing them from the equation. As Sarg often says: simple does not necessarily mean easy.

The Service had arrived in port about four hours ago. After about three hours they had exited the ship and gone to meet with Talendel’s Mayor. While meetings like this were common, more often than not they were simple formalities in an effort to sustain positive relations between states and the Capital. Especially when they occurred in the dead of night, they were expected to be brief, to the point, and then over for everyone's benefit. In this case Everyone even including a thieving party who would be eagerly waiting with eyes on the Warehouse for their victims to reveal the location of their prize.

Finally, the four service members who Tavin had seen exit their ship  - identifiable by their hooded red and white leather armor, and the whips on their belt - were seen walking up the road from the city with a man in robes who Orion, with his enhanced spectacles, recognized as the Mayor's son. With them were two of The Mayor's personal guards.

They approached Manifortuam Warehouse and the two city guards standing alert at the large doors leading inside. The Mayor's son - A man named Wilder Garrington - approached the guards. After quickly exchanging words with them Wilder shook the hands of one of the Service members before turning around and presumably heading back to his Manor, leaving behind one member of his personal guard. As he moved farther and farther away, Orion watched as the Personal Guard opened the door, and gestured for the four Service members to follow him in.

Orion quickly hopped from the safety of the roof he was on into the nearby cobbled wall of the warehouse, his fingers and toes slipping in between and finding purchase with the stone. As he hoisted himself up towards a window approximately 12 feet off the ground, he turned around and spotted Yaran slowly walk around the side of the building he had just been on, while hoisting a barrel over his head.

Stars above, this was heavy! You’d think after hoisting line for years and being a deckhand for a practically inconceivable period of time that you’d get used to the weight of a barrel, but the second it was filled with oil there was no god on earth that could prevent gravity from doing its work on it.

Yaran felt some oil splash against his leg as it steadily glugged out onto the ground below. “Um…Sir?” one of the two City Guard called out at him from the door. “We’re going to have to ask to to set down the barrel and got back to -”

“Sorry, wife's orders,” he squeezed through a tight throat, while feigning the slur of a drunk. “The more poisonous to my liver the more it's my duty to try to let mother earth cleanse it.”

“Well you're under our jurisdiction now, not your wife's. Turn around.” The other guard hollered forcefully.

As Yaran finished crossing the distance between sides of the road he set down the barrel, kicked it over back onto the trail he just spread, and shouted back “Try telling her that!” before running to the hut across from where he had come from.

“Hey!” one of the guards shouted at him as he leaped into the hut.

Tavin, hiding behind the same hut Yaran had stepped out from, watched as the meathead of a man dove headfirst into the hut across the road. He didn't wait before lowering his flint to the trail of oil left behind, and striking a spark.

The oil ignited, quickly spreading a straight line across the street following its path, and, upon reaching the barrel, erupting in a gout of flame.

Pieces of flaming barrel took to the sky and took their time to fall back to the earth, but no real damage had been done to any of the nearby buildings. The two guards quickly charged the building Yaran was in.

Hmm, run AWAY from where you just saw fire spread from?

Maybe they were smarter than he gave them credit for.

Tavin rounded the corner and, pulling a blunderbuss from his side fired his shot at one of the guards. At this range he watched as the guard fell, but likely was still ready to fight. Pulling a rapier from his hip he stepped closer to his prey.

“The Stone,” the personal guard started with a proud smirk, “rests within here. Talendel hopes that it may further The Capitols research.”

Orion watched from the rafters as the group approached an inconspicuous looking chest against the front wall to the entrances left.

As two of the service members approached the chest a concussive blast erupted from outside. All heads turned to focus on the door that they had just walked through.

“Seems your city isn't as safe as you may have thought…'' one of The Service chided.

“Nonsense. This is likely just…a ruffian taking a prank too far.” The Guard said snidely, “There's nothing to worry about”. Contradicting himself he drew a two handed broadsword from its sheath.

Tension in the room rapidly rose as the four Service members drew the weapons that marked them as Service Members: whips several feet long, with hooked thorns covering the last two feet or so. Referred to as “Stingers” these inch long hooked thorns were, unless strategically placed, not enough to kill; but plenty to maim. Orion had seen several folks leave encounters with the Service short a few appendages.

As the five in the room readied themselves for what Orion knew to be Yaran and Tavin outside, Orion studied the chest. It was about three feet long and one foot tall. An awkward size for one to carry…perhaps it would be more efficient to pick the lock before they made their escape.

One of the service members - a figure with their hood raised - began to back up away from the group. Outside was now silent apart from the occasional crackle of fire.

“aaaaaaaaAAAAHHHHHHH” an approaching yell sounded from outside, seemingly coming at the door.

The yell was quickly overshadowed by the crack of a blunderbuss shot. Four of the five soldiers reeled to their left, looking away from the chest to lock eyes with Tavin as the front Service member fell. Tavin must've snuck in through one of the windows.

BOOM

The doors smashed inwards as Yaran’s shout was suddenly the only perceivable sound in the warehouse. The stout man was unstoppable, charging The Service member at the front of the party.

The snap of a Stinger sounded and the personal guard shrieked, yelping as he dropped his broadsword.

The rest was a blur. As Yaran sidestepped a Stinger he ran full force into the front Service member. Tavin threw his temporarily useless blunderbuss into the face of a second service member and stepped in with his rapier. The Guard - still shrieking as blood sprayed from his hands - fell to the hooded Service member, who earlier, being in the back of the group in their trek up the road, had actually fallen to Tavin and Sarg and been replaced by Orion's father.

Being outnumbered three to one, it wasn't long before the final service member was unconscious on the ground with the other four wounded.

At the conclusion of the fight the three remaining open pairs of eyes approached the box, all but licking their lips as they thought of the reward for such a simple job.

Yaran, utilizing the brass cover on his hands, smashed the lock and looked inside to see…absolutely nothing.

“I think…” Orion chided from behind them, “if you’re going to have me as a failsafe at least let me FEEL like I did something” He grinned as he proudly held up the small rock from the box and felt the party sigh in relief.

Sarg approached him smiling cheek to cheek. “Hey, just because they only sent four Service members this time doesn't mean next time we don't need you,” He held out his hand “Do you mind if I…?” Orion proudly handed over the stone.

It was Navy blue, and heavier than it looked. Being about the size of Orions closed first the stone almost seemed to glow, and was slightly misshapen - the surface pocked with a series of pits that made it look like a lava rock.

“Well, no reason to stick around then,” Sarg said, wrapping the stone in a handkerchief and placing it in his jacket pocket. “Let's get out of here before any avoidable attention arrives.”

Beltai had seen the eruption of fire from the shore, as a tall flame had gouted up from the other side of the city.

Approaching now, with Shamand at her side and another four Service members behind her, she saw a still burning wall of flame in the middle of the street separating her from Manifortuam Warehouse, as the sun slowly began to overpower the moon in the sky and dawn took over.

Standing there, seeing the barged in door of the warehouse, and the two guards laying on their sides in front of it, Beltai didn't need to be told what had happened. It was clear enough the stone would be missing.

End of the Prologue