Daedre the Shadowslip, once of the Blood Eye, looked down from the razor thin masonry ledge she was standing on into the center of the vast treasure chamber. Just as she had been told, there was her prize, resting all alone on a heavy pedestal, glass dome covering it. However, was the dome to protect the arrow, or to protect AGAINST the arrow. She held her breathe, and took a moment to think of how she got here.
It had been nearly eight weeks ago now that Taro had summoned her to a seedy bar on the bad side of Harwick. He had left messages in all the right places with all the right code phrases, and so, just after one in the morning, she arrived to see him already in a rear booth, nursing what seemed to be mint water by the scent. She raised a silent, mocking eyebrow and he smiled unevenly. “You know how it is Slip, eventually the drink gets to all of us….now if I touch a drop I puke blood all night.”
The woman nodded, running a hand through her greying hair. “Yep…nothing to be done, the reaper will have his due, sooner than later I expect.”
Taro took a sip of water. “That is what I came ta tell ya about, Slip...the reaper's due…I finally found it.”
Dee poured herself a class of wine and played dumb. “Found what? I assumed you just wanted ta get under my skirts again.”
The big man shook his head and slipped from speaking Westron into Thieve’s Cant, the coded conversation style of the Blood Eye, back in the day. “Ya know damn well what, Slip. The Shaft of Returns. Took a fair amount of coin, a good deal of luck and riskin my neck in ways I am too damn old for, but I finally know where it is…”
Daedre spat onto the sawdust floor. “Bull shite…you got foxed by some pretty eyes with a lively tongue. The Shaft is a myth, we never found it cause it don’t exist.”
“Ohhhh…it exists alright. I am certain of it….” Taro leaned close, a gleam in his eyes. “…and it sits right in the fat fist of old Forlong.”
Dee stared, running through the old stories that had come to naught years before. “My god, that is not as crazy as it seems…if it WAS indeed lost on the banks of the Erui like the legends say, and IF the river maiden of the Erui had gone mad according to local talk, then it could easily have been found by one of Arnach’s patrols. Would that fat fool know what he even has, if he did find it?”
Taro shrugged. “Who knows what he knows or doesn’t know between meals. All that matters is that it is THERE, and ripe for the picking.” The man reached out one calloused hand and closed his fist dramatically.
Daedre pushed her chair back and shook her head, still keeping her voice down. “No…no. Slow down, slow down…if it IS inside, and that is still a big IF…then I need to plot out a way to snatch it, then bring it all the way do fecking Angmar, through Angmar to the City of the Dead, find Sarick, fight my way through all the creepy crawlies and beasties, and THEN hit him with the arrow. A tall order especially since I may not be as old as a fossil like you, taro, but I am not a spring chicken neither.”
Taro scoffed. “OK, like you said, you aren’t no blushing virgin no more…”
The woman scoffed. “Was I ever?”
“That ain’t the point…you are still the Shadowslip, ain’t a rich man nor princeling in Gondor or Rohan who don’t fear your light fingers and your love of shinys.” Taro took another long pull of mint water.
Dee shook her head slowly. “You ain’t listening to me, ya lummox…..this AIN’T just shineys and making the fops look stupid…this is Sarick’s life we are talking about. With that relic, we can pull him back from beyond…make him a man again. There is no margin for error here.”
The man rose and left a few coppers on the table. “Then don’t make no errors. I did my part, at no small risk to life and limb, now you do yours.” He slipped to the bar, disappearing into the crowd before leaving the tavern with a few newly met friends as cover. Remaining in her seat, Daedre thought long and hard. Yes the risk was terrible, but the reward was all the had worked for this last few decades. She had to go for the score.
When she finally rose, she nodded firmly. “OK girlie, time to get to work….”
And so she spent two weeks gathering information cautiously, confirming the tale that Taro had spun. Multiple dependable sources agreed…the Shaft HAD been picked up by men from Arnach, they HAD brought it home to their Lord, who did indeed squirrel it away in his treasury as just another pretty relic.
Then came the careful planning, the blueprints, the observation of the dome above the treasury, mastering the guard routes and schedules…all of it in absolute secrecy. It had been a long time since she pulled a job in Arnach, she had to make sure she was prepared for anything. She was past the age of being able to depend on agility, luck and her nice tight arse to get her out of jams. She needed to work even harder and be more prepared then her mark in order to grab the ring, these days.
Finally, on a moonless winter night, she made her play. Scaling walls in absolute silence, her black and grey jerkin seemed to absorb light as she made it past four patrols unseen, hanging from rooftops, running across support ropes and alone walls until she finally found herself within the walls of the Lord’s Hall, at the very base of the mighty dome above his treasure house, no one the wiser. Slowly she ascended the curved surface of the dome, leaping nimbly and silently from ornate handhold to ornate handhold, ignoring her aching joints and straining lungs until she reached the round window at the very apex of the dome, nearly 150 feet above the stone floor.
She rested a few minutes, then a few moments with a glass cutter and she set the pane of the window carefully aside. After all it would not do for it to plummet and alert the entire town, that would be an amateur’s mistake. She took a deep breath and carefully set her grappling hook on the window frame and lowered herself into the dark treasury inch by inch.
A few careful swings and she reached out one hand, catching ahold of the rim of masonry around the inner dome and pulled herself up. A well-practiced jerk and she pulled the hook free, quickly securing the rope back on her belt and looking down. There indeed was the Shaft of Returns, gleaming in the darkness below her…all this work had not been in vain. She whispered to herself, “Soon Sarick…soon you will breathe the air again…just like I promised.”
She slowly, carefully scaled down the last 30 feet, climbing the display cases nimbly until she set her feet on the ground. Her exit was already planned…rushing past the surprised, overworked guards and through the Passage of Flowers to the south gate and into the gatehouse, through the window she had rigged out into the vestibule, along the sentry wall, and down a fallen oak into the forest….easy peasy.
But first she had to get the Shaft of Returns.
She moved inch by inch across the mosaic floor towards the covered Arrow. Even from here she could see the runes delicately carved into its length, matching the drawings and descriptions of the legendary arrow. She could barely contain her excitement.
She paused between each careful step, making sure the stones didn’t creak and that she didn’t miss some secret trigger or trip wire in the darkness. Finally she was at the pedestal, holding her breath and gently lifted the dome up and away. This was to be the Shadowslip’s best and most important heist she thought to herself…just as the room’s torches blazed into life.
Flooded with light, there were no shadows in the dome for her to melt into as looking around she saw a full two dozen guardsmen rush in, well disciplined, surrounded her at a safe distance and taking aim. Daedre the Shadowslip froze stock-still and muttered to herself. “What a time to be the only person not pointing a fecking crossbow…”
Above her, on the balcony overlooking the chamber, Baranor, Captain of the Guard of Arnach, laughed in an especially annoying well. “Well well, finally. You have had a noose awaiting you in Arnach for some time, Daedre. Pity it had to wait until now when you are so far past your prime, but justice is justice. Take her away men…we won’t even need to wait for our Lord to return before giving this one the drop, she was sentenced to death by the Steward of Gondor years ago.”
As the guards carefully bound her, she looked up and noticed a familiar form next to Baranor. The Captain was dropping a gold laden purse into the hand of good, loyal Taro. Her old comrade looked down at her, and shrugged. “He’s right Slip, yer past your day, we both are…better for the likes of you to go down on the job then waste away, ain’t it? I did ya a favor. As for this…it’s just business, I got an offer I couldn’t turn way. You would have done the same…you know that right? Right?”
Dee gritted her teeth as the Guards jerked her out of the chamber, whispering through clenched teeth. “Yeah…just business…”
