As the sun rose above the quiet realm of the Desert of Eternal Sands and the mystical winds slowly blew to and fro, the city of Ramira was filled with fragrant spices, colorful cloths, and sparkling gems. Creatures of all realms gathered in the market of Ramira to stock up on all sorts of goods, and merchants from far and wide would come to peddle their wares. Here was one of the few places where one could see an orc and a faerie laughing and bartering or a dragonborn calmly mingling with a group of elven traders.

  However, Ramira was known not only for its bazaar, but also for its thieves and pickpockets, all part of the notorious Guild of Thieves. Trained since youth in the arts of silent movement, quickly sorting through wallets to find the most valuable items, and slipping away from guards during chases, not to mention mastery with weapons small enough to fit into the palm of one’s hand, these thieves were the menace of Ramira, always ready to pounce on anyone foolish enough to let their guard down.

  Such was the training of Sahir, one of the many thieves that plagued Ramira and its visitors, perhaps not the most skilled of the guild, but definitely one of the cleverest ones, eluding guards with the same calm air as if he was merely out for a stroll. As he slipped past yet another clueless guard, he noticed a prime target on which Sahir could hone his skills: a nobleman, covered in jewels from head to toe, looking around as if he was a child in a candy store. The thief, almost rubbing his hands together in anticipation, snuck up to the nobleman and promptly snuck away, clutching in his hands a bulging wallet. Sahir ducked into an alleyway to avoid two more guards that marched past, and inspected the wallet for traps of any sort. Not finding anything worrying, he opened the wallet, only to significantly regret his decision. The glyph of tracking, a magical sign that alerts the owner of the object of its location, shone brightly and began to yell out “Thief! Thief!”, alerting all the nearby guards of Sahir’s presence.

  The thief was experienced, however, and knew exactly how to deal with such issues. He quickly slammed the wallet shut, muffling the yelling glyph, and began to run like never before. There was nothing of worth in the wallet, so he threw it aside and onto a moving cart, hoping to deter the guards by sending them onto another route. A few of the guards foolishly fell for this maneuver, and Sahir smiled to himself as he heard the guards pile onto the cart, crushing loads of fruit and the protesting owner of the cart. However, not all the guards were as incompetent, and some kept up the chase, slowly closing in on the rogue. After a while of running, Sahir found himself backed up into a dead end, cornered from all sides by guards and walls. Yet instead of giving up, the thief just flashed the guards a brilliant smile and raised a hand, holding up three fingers.

  As the guards exchanged confused glances, Sahir allowed himself to slightly relax, and lowered one finger. Two fingers remained raised, and Sahir slightly tilted his head, looking at the guards as if he was challenging them to stop him. He lowered the second finger, and then the third. Seeing that the guards still stood there, Sahir sighed, pitying the guards, and pulled back his sleeve, exposing a tattoo of a snake, and pressed it. Instantly, the snake glowed a bright green and a glowing smoke started flowing from the snake’s mouth, filling the alley. The guards started coughing and rubbing their eyes, trying to get the putrid smoke out of their face as it stung their eyes and clouded their vision. One of the more experienced guards finally cast a small Gust spell, causing a small breeze to pass through the alleyway and blow the smoke away. Finally, the smoke cleared, and all the guards saw before them was an empty alleyway, with an imprint of a grinning snake hastily drawn on the ground.

  While the guards cursed and yelled out promises to make the thief pay for wasting their valuable time, Sahir ran across rooftops, jumping from one building to another, and silently cast out a small prayer of thanks to the magic of the Guild of Thieves, the very same magic that had first been given to him long ago to be used in emergencies such as this one. He kept running and running, nothing getting in his way, and he picked up speed, getting closer and closer to his home, the Den of Thieves. He could already see the Den rising from the sands, waiting to welcome him in, and he ran faster, feeling his home call to him through the snake tattoo on his hand. There were a few final jumps remaining, and Sahir braced himself for the landing, but instead of jumping onto the next rooftop, he was halted by a flying paper landing on his face.

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  Sahir tripped and stumbled, flying off the edge of the building, hanging on just by his fingers. Thankfully, Sahir’s training for thievery had not gone to waste, and he expertly catapulted himself back onto the roof, elegantly landing on his feet. With that out of the way, he decided that getting home could wait, and instead straightened out the paper to get a better look at what it was that had almost sent him to his death. Slowly but surely, his eyes widened, and a sneaky gleam crept into his smile. Reinvigorated, he doubled his pace and sped towards the Den, a new goal in his sights.

  Moments later, Sahir was running through the twisting and turning corridors that made up the Den, and the Den sank back into the ground, waiting for its next time to rise. A left turn here, two right turns there, and soon Sahir was already at the dwelling of the Elder Thief, the most revered bandit, crook, and con artist in all of Ramira. Slightly out of breath, Sahir stopped before the elder, panting and gulping for air. The Elder Thief raised an eyebrow, and noticing the paper in Sahir’s hand, motioned for it. The paper travelled through the air from thief to thief, and the elder examined it with all the scrutiny he could muster. He crumpled the paper up, his constant grin turning into a sour frown, and said:

  “Sahir, you fool. What do you expect to gain from this?”

  “But Elder, it’s a quest to fight against the darkness, which is indirectly what you’ve trained me to do! Besides, not only will I show the world that our so-called ‘taboo magic’ and ‘taboo thievery practices’ can bring good to society, but there must be a very valuable reward at the end of this. When has anyone of the Guild denied such a lucrative opportunity?” Sahir said, and gestured towards the rather promising bags of gold drawn on the bottom of the paper. The elder, however, was unshaken by these exclamations, and began doing what he did best, which was complaining:

  “This promised ‘adventure’ is no more than suicide! I mean, honestly, you young nitwits these days, expecting that any call to adventure is noble and whatnot! Why, in days of old, we wouldn’t have dreamed of leaving our thief family just for the chance of some trouncing around, waving a sword and being all hero-like. Youths like you are just the reason that the title of thief is fading away, and I mean really…”

  The elder droned on and on, his rambling changing course every now and then, and Sahir felt his eyelids slowly drooping as he listened to the elder talk about the failing economy, the dangers of teleportation stones, and really any possible topic that could be at least somehow related to Sahir’s want for adventure. Not wanting to listen to any more of the elder’s speech, Sahir quietly sneaked out of the room, leaving the Elder Thief preaching to the walls, which he seemed quite content with.

  Once more running through the tunnels of the Den, Sahir made it up to the exit, and was about to leave, when one of the children, one that Sahir had known from birth and trained to be one of the sneakiest children in the whole guild, tugged him on the sleeve and asked:

  “Sahir, where are you going?”

  “I’m going to go save the world… for a hefty price, that is! I sense money in this, and it’s all gonna be mine!” Sahir answered, and grinned at the laughing child. Taking some time to laugh too, Sahir ran off, and whistled to summon his pet, a griffin that he had nursed from its infancy and that had grown to an impressively large size, because of which the griffin spent most of its time in an abandoned and rather spacious cave where it could comfortably live. Sahir gave the griffin (aptly named Griffy) a pat on the beak and a few chunks of raw beef for the griffin to snack on, and jumped up onto the griffin’s back. Up into the sky they flew, rising above the clouds and taking off in the direction of the human capital, which now held the key to Sahir’s future.

  Lost in his musings of riches, Sahir lost track of time, and before he knew it, Griffy was already landing in front of the temple where auditions for the hero would be held. The thief gracefully leaped off of Griffy’s back, embraced him warmly, and rushed off towards the main doors, quickly snatching a priest’s coin as he ran. Laughing to himself in his excitement, he slowed his pace down and stepped through the majestic halls of the temple, mesmerized by the valuable relics and expensive decorations, restraining himself from pocketing anything. Finally, he stopped at the doors of the main chamber, gave his snake tattoo a quick glance for good luck, and pushed the doors open, tingling with anticipation of what lay within the chamber…