Garl was wrapped in his rags, rubbing his sides firmly to keep himself from freezing to death has he saw a dark figure walking in the market place like it wasn't there.   The dark man walked with grace through the crown and no one seemed to notice his presence except for the boy.   Garl got up and started following the shady man, staring at the fat purse he was carrying at his belt.   Finally, before the man walked out of the crown Garl made a grab.   Just has he thought he was successful, the dark figure grabbed his hand before he walk away with the purse.   Garl froze in place has he met the man's glance.

        -    "P. .  Please don't tell the town's guards... Im hungry... I just wanted to..."
        -    "You have talent I''ve never seen in someone your age" interrupted the man.   "You are gifted but a gift is worth nothing if not properly exploited."   The dark figure made a pause, smiling has fear in the young boy's eyes was gradually replaced with confusion and hope.
        -    "W.. what do you meean?"   asked the young Garl.
        -    "If you wish, I couuld train you."   simply said the man.

        Scared at first by the man's words and appearance, he stepped back and refused the offer.

        -    "Has you wish youngg lad, but remember that you once add the opportunity to get yourself out of the streets."   replied the dark figure.

        Garl watched has the man walked away and thoughts about sickness, cold and famine went back through his mind.   He decided it was time to end this misery.   Just in time, he caught up with the man.   It was then the beginning of a very long education.
 

        Since he became a professional, Garl always saw himself has an artist burglar, but the most common term was master thief.   Garl felt stealing was an art.   Sneaking inside large and wealthy houses, mansions, castles and other guarded buildings without being seen or heard, stealing riches unknown to other thieves.   He never killed on the job, and only stole from nobles.   Even if money was a good motivation, he mostly did this work because he enjoyed the thrill more than anything else.   The rush for adrenaline mixed with the fear of getting caught provided him unexplainable pleasure.   Also another thing motivated him; becoming the best.   Has his master Rhagnar taught him everything he knew, Garl soon became the best thief of his band, organization and finally city.   Now, for 4 years he had traveled from cities to cities, from kingdom to kingdom in search of new challenges that could sharpen his skills and make him a better burglar and artist.   Proving to himself and to the others that he was the best was as exciting has the thrill and lust for danger.   With time, he had even become better than his master Rhagnar.

        Garl shook his head to wear off theses thoughts.   It wasn't time to think or dream, it was time to rob a gemstone.   Smiling, the thief walked silently toward the pillar with the gemstone sitting on a small red pillow.   The burglar glared at the stone, shining mysteriously in the dark with a soft green light, casting strange shades around the room.   Four large statues shaped has gargoyles were placed in every corner of the room, guarding the pillar.   The master thief moved his eyes around the room, examining every little detail with precision then locked them on the pillar holding the gemstone.   He approached it carefully, slowly touching the pillar with his fingertips and looking at every inch of the stone.   No trap.   How could this be possible?   How could Griffin not protect his beloved "Dragon's Eye" with at least one trap?   Then he saw it.   A tiny pressure plate hidden under the pillow.   A robber less experienced would probably have fallen for this trap but not Garl.   Pressure plates were always very tricky depending on their quality.   The best one could notice the difference between the weight of a gold coin and a copper coin.   The master thief shivered in delight has this was a good challenge, the best he had in months.   Grinning evilly, Garl pulled out a green gemstone shaped like the "Dragon's eye" hoping that Raithos was has good of a gem cutter has everybody told so.   The artist burglar thought that if Raithos wanted to stay healthy, he'd better had given him a darn good replica of the stone.   The master thief had another shiver of pleasure has he was getting prepared to make the switch.   Garl relaxed his breathing and thought calmly that if he wasn't quick enough for the switch or if the fake wasn't the same weight than the real gem, the trap will be triggered, probably launching deadly magic missiles from the mouths of those shabby looking gargoyles.   The thought of disarming the statues to assure safety went through his mind for a second but this would make the job easier.   He chuckled has he was taking unnecessary risks.   Finally, Garl held his breath and with hands faster than the eyes, he made the switch.   He had the "Dragon's eye" in his hands, the fabled "Dragon's eye"!

        "Damn im good!" he thought.   Just has he relaxed, the burglar heard unusual rocky sounds coming from every corner of the room.   Nerves quicker than the mind, the master thief jumped out of the way has 4 magic missiles crashed at the center of the room, where he was standing an heart beat before.   Catching his breath he wondered if he haven't been fast enough or if the fake gemstone has been unproperly balanced.   Almost for a second he had doubts about himself but soon they vanished.   The stone was defective.   Has he got up, he heard a very loud noise almost deafening, echoing in the mansion, coming primarily from the treasure room he was standing in.   A magical alarm!   "God damn you Raithos, your gonna pay for this if I get out of this one alive!" he thought has he ran toward the door.   The large bronze door opened before he could turn the handle.   Fortunately, Garl has the reflex of jumping on the side of the door, concealing himself in the shadows.   He quickly put the "Dragon's eye" in one of his pocket has he almost forgot the stone was creating a strange green light.   A bulky guard in chain mail ran into the room toward the center of the room, sword in hand and let a growl has he saw no one in the room.   In a click, the master thief silently left the room while the guard was looking the other way.

        The master thief ran into the open corridor, with no place to hide and heard many heavy foot steps approaching.   Things looked pretty grim.   Fortunately he had brought a smoke bomb and a flash bomb just in case.   Has he reached an intersection four guards rushed from the stairs toward Garl, shouting at him to surrender.   There was no time to think.   He threw his flash bomb on the ground while closing his eyes and looking away, blinding the guards for a moment.   Has the guards ran blindly in all directions, the burglar rushed toward the stair leading up knowing that there would probably be more guards downstairs.   He ran like never before and with the power of adrenaline and fear for his life, he reached the roof in seconds.   Unfortunately other guards were hot on his trail.   Out of breath, the master thief had to think fast, very fast.   A mix of thrill and fear was passing through his mind has he ran to the border of the roof, pulling out from his cloak a silk rope with a grappling hook attached to it's end.   Sticking the hook on a higher border or the roof, he threw the rope downward and started to go down.   Impressing himself, he reached the ground in seconds has guards reached the border of the roof, shouting insults at him.   There was no time to get his rope back so he started to run since probably other guards were about to rush to him from the main floor.   He smiled has he thought he was almost out but then heard the frightening sound of arrows hitting the ground near him.   The most terrifying sound was the one of his own scream has one arrow hit him straight in the left thigh.   He fell to the ground twisting in pain.   He saw in horror has other guards closed in.   Grunting at his bad luck, he threw his smoke bomb and took the opportunity to escape, wounded on his thigh and honor.   At that time, Garl was 22 and this day marked the only spot on his flawless career.
 

        -    "G... Garl! &nnbsp; How did you get in here?"   asked the terrified gem cutter.
        -    "Your back door's llock isn't that good Raithos."   said dryly the master thief.   "You look nervous old man, what's wrong?   Aren't you happy to see me?   I got your 'Dragon's eye' you know."
        -    "I don't appreciatee people sneaking into my shop like that!   You should know better Garl."   he said uncomfortably sweating like a pig.
        -    "And I don't apprecciate people giving me cheap replica Raithos!   I almost got killed because of the one you gave me."
        -    "What?   What are you talking about?   The fake was only to insult Griffin, you remember?   It didn't mattered if it was a perfect replica."   bleated the old man.
        -    "Yes, but however aa tiny pressure plate was hidden under the stone.   Since your replica wasn't exactly the same weight, it triggered a trap."   said Garl between his teeth has he felt another wave of pain in his left thigh.

        The gem cutter didn't knew what to do or what to say.   He didn't care if the young burglar in front of him had almost got killed, all that mattered was that he was alive and brought him the gemstone.   One the other side, Garl had the tremendous urge to kill the man in front of him, to take his money and some 'souvenirs' but it would be plainly unprofessional.

        -    "Your lucky I need you has a contact Raithos or I would have to kill you for providing me with cheap material to work with."   whispered the master thief frowning and slowly caressing the hilt of his sword hidden under his cloak with his right hand.

        -    "All right Garl... I will triple check the equipment I provide you next time.   Let's forget about all this.   Now give me the "Dragon's eye" and I'll hand you your payment."   grumbled Raithos has he wiped off some sweat on his forehead with a cheap piece of cloth.

        Even if he knew that the burglar in front of him wasn't a murderer or an assassin, the old gem cutter was very nervous has he knew how dangerous he could get when things were not going his way.   He swallowed some saliva has he noticed a red spot on Garl's left thigh.

        -    "I warn you Raithoss, if you sell me just one cheap piece of equipment again, I swear that I will kill you.   You know how much I hate killing but for you I could make some exceptions.   And another thing, if you want me to work for you again in the future, I expect a bonus for compensation."   barked the master thief grimacing in pain has his wounded thigh ached like hell.

        The old man said nothing but only glared at the young thief with eyes wide in terror.   He then sigh and cleared his throat has he walked toward his desk to get the payment.   Still in the gloomy shades of the dark room, Garl stood silently and waited for his payment has he pulled the glowing "Dragon's eye" from one of his pockets.   Raithos came back and gave him a large purse filled of gleaming gold coins.

        -    "Here you go Garl, you earned it."   the old gem cutter said while receiving the gemstone.

        The artist burglar counted the money while Raithos stared in wonder at the marvelous "Dragon's eye".   The master thief nodded to himself has the amount of money was correct, even better than he expected and then started to walk toward the door has the old man examined his new treasure with a small magnifying glass, grinning.

        -    "Thank you again Gaarl, thank you very much...   If you need anything please come to me and again, I apologies for the fake gemstone."   said Raithos still excitedly studying the "Dragon's eye" through his magnifying glass.

        The burglar frown and did not answer but simply left the shop.   Outside, the master thief sighed deeply has he successfully resisted the urge to kill the old man.   He took another deep breath and looked at the stars.   The night was cool and refreshing.   If it wasn't of that damn wound, he would go rob some local merchants or at least take a walk but the pain was too fierce to simply be ignored.   Slowly and painfully, Garl walked home.
 

        Suddenly someone knocked on the door.   The master thief's eyes widen has he did not expect any visit tonight.   Quickly he grabbed a dagger and moved silently to the door.

        -    "Please open up, I have a package for a mister Garl Cypher." said a young voice.

        The burglar would not be tricked so easily.   He putted his ear on the door to ear if there was any other movements of incriminating noises coming from the other side.   No sounds except the one of a light person shifting impatiently its weight from one foot to another.   Garl frowned and unlocked the door.   Opening it a little he peered at a young boy dressed in rags.   For a moment he reminded him of himself a couple of years ago.   The boy handed him a long box approximately 4 foot long and a letter.   The master thief frowned again, took them and threw a gold coin to the young messenger before closing the door.

        -   "Thank you!   TThank you!   With this I will be able to eat for days!"   shouted cheerfully the boy on the other side of the door before moving on.

        The burglar ignored the comment and putted the long box and his dagger on a table before opening the letter.   The letter was from a certain Felix, one of Rhagnar's old partners.   This could not be good but he started reading:

                    "     Garl, I have some of the most troubling news.   I wish I would write you for a business
                    proposition or to hire you to steal something for me but that is not the case unfortunately.

                         Yesterday, I witnessed your master Rhagnar's death.   Desperate he would never see his
                    lover that left the land, he was weak and got magically charmed by a succubus.   The results
                    were that he gave her his soul.   Then his lover came back to the land and he felt compelled
                    to return to her.   The succubus was jealous and crushed his soul.   His lover, thorn in pain
                    and guilt, gave herself death.

                        This is not all however, a while back, Rhagnar's soul was stolen by some evil sorcerer
                    named Friestor, leader of some dark cult organization called the "Black Watch".   I heard
                    that Friestor stole your master's soul because he once killed one of his top soldier for some
                    reason.   Friestor told Rhagnar that if he would bring him the Cursrah's Scepter he would
                    give him his soul back.   Out of choices, your master went to the famous Cursrah's tomb
                    and pilfered the scepter from the undead.   Rumors says that he almost left his sanity in
                    there.   Rhagnar gave Friestor the scepter and got his soul back.   What I know about the
                    Cursrah's Scepter is that the gemstone on top of the silver shaft contains the soul of a
                    hundred ancient wizards making it an extremely powerful necromantic artifact.   Enough
                    of that however.   Rhagnar went back to Friestor's mansion and stole the scepter back.   I
                    think he was afraid of what Friestor could have done with such a powerful artifact...   Raise
                    an army of undead?   After he stole it, he hid it well and asked me that if something would
                    happen to him, to retrieve the scepter from it's hiding place and give it to you.

                        Here it his, your master his dead and I sent my most loyal messenger to give you the scepter
                    among with this letter.   I wanted to give it to you personally but time is something is I don't
                    have much.   I have to stay out of the kingdom for...   hum let's say a couple of years.   Don't
                    ask why you can already guess.   Anyway, you now have the damn scepter and my job his done.

                        If I were you, I would be careful with it and I would watch out for Friestor.

                                                                                                                        F...."

        Garl thorn the letter and threw it into the fireplace.   The master thief sighed and looked at the letter burning in the flames.   "God damn Rhagnar!   If he had to die why the hell did he have to leave me a cursed scepter!?!" thought the burglar.   He took another deep breath and opened the long wooden box on the table.   Here it was, a tall silver scepter with a crimson jewel on the top the shaft; the Cursrah's Scepter.   A strange shiver went through his spine has he stared at the jewel.   He could not tell if he was imagining things but Garl felt like he was hearing low eerie whispers coming out from the stone.   Was this possible?   Could the souls of the ancient wizards be calling his name?   The master thief shivered again, shook his head to clear his mind from this feeling and put the scepter back into the box.

        The burglar thought for a moment about Rhagnar but quickly the thought vanished from his mind.   He has better things to do than to mourn the death of the man who thought him everything he knew without ever loving him.   Tomorrow, he would head for the land of Karchan, the last place where his master was seen alive for the last time.