It was the three of us back then and we were thick as thieves. Which I suppose is apt because that's what we were. Thieves.
Morgana was the black haired beauty who broke hearts wherever she went. The perfect decoy. She was always on distraction duty and never failed to get the target's attention. Dillon was our orange haired bookworm. He dreamed of being a merchant, but for the time being he was putting his burgeoning appraisal skills to use by helping us pick out targets. And me? I suppose I was the big blonde brute. I was always tall for my age and as I've got older, my muscles have filled out to match. I won't pretend to be the sharpest tool in the shed and most of my value comes down to my physicality. At the end of the day, we were a decent team.
Our thefts usually followed a simple formula. Morgana would serve as either a distraction or a lookout. Her good looks and natural people skills allowed her to get a minute or two of conversation from anyone. Dillon would usually pick the targets and sort out any of the loot. A tremendously useful skill when compared with someone like me who wanted to keep everything 'just in case'. I would generally be the physical element of any plan. If it called for scaling walls, picking locks, or just brute forcing through something, then I was the guy.
Morgana, Dillon, and I were the cliche orphans turned crooks. Well, I wasn't technically an orphan. I mean it depends on your definition. My mother was definitely dead but my father was technically still alive - if you could even call what he did living. He'd tell you he was a 'veteran' which to some might mean he was a hero but if you spent longer than an hour with him you'd find out the truth.
Brian Horlock, my father, was a drunk and a bully. He had 'fought' in exactly one battle against the invaders before having to remove himself from service due to the stress. Officially, he had seen such harrowing sights it had driven him mad and he had been given an exemption from state service. This exemption came with a tidy purse of ten coins a week funded by the crown for services rendered. The price of a choice wine bottle was around fifty chips, which was half a coin, and so my loving father was able to keep his mind addled and tongue wet whilst having change left over for whatever food the tavern was serving. Not that I ever got a taste.
The unofficial story was that he had caught a commanding officer doing something untoward with a noble's wife and had blackmailed the offending parties to get signed off. They capitulated out of fear and my daddy got himself a pension before seeing a lick of action.
You might respect him for acting in such a way. War is brutal and life is hard so securing a wage off the back off of another's misdeeds was simply a shrewd manoeuvre. Especially as he had a wife at home who had just given birth to his only child. Let me, Brandon Horlock, tell you right now that my father is in no way deserving of your respect.
It had been sixteen years since he started claiming that pension. Sixteen years since he returned to my mother with fantastical tales of all he would do with his steady income. Sixteen years of custom to Jim's Tavern. Sixteen years of buying bottles of wine every single day. Sixteen years of abusing the people closest to him. Fortunately my mother got away from him eleven years ago. Unfortunately she did that by dying. For the next six years my dear father used me to prove his manliness and when I was eleven I left home to live on the streets with Morgana and Dillon. So although I'm not technically an orphan, my father is essentially non-existent in my life.
Morgana, Dillon and I first met at the Turnstone Academy, a school set up by King William to ensure a basic level of education for every child. Say what you will about the reign of the Mustovats but they definitely had an eye for social reforms. We must have been about 9 at the time and we bonded over our love of history - especially when Master Shen would teach us about The Fracture. The source of Radan's greatest troubles but also our greatest strengths.
The Fracture was a portal that opened up every twelve months for a time we called 'The Challenge'. Seven days where demons, beasts and monsters would pour out like a plague on the land, stripping everything they could.
These invaders would be met by the full force of the Radanese army resulting in bloody battles for the entire week. Most of the time we won which meant we got huge influxes to the economy. After one Challenge a decade ago, we killed so many beasts that we had enough meat to feed the entire population of Radan. It got to the point where all the King's mages had to learn freezing spells so that it could be preserved.
The rewards from killing the monsters and the demons were the best though. Every time one of those Challenges were won, we'd gain new potions or inventions. The monsters always had body parts you couldn't find in Radan, and the invaders often had gear that far surpassed ours. Still, Master Shen said that even in a good year tens of thousands would die. Most would be in the army, usually the conscripts doing their national duty but some would be civilians.
The Mustovats had long ago set up fortifications surrounding the Fracture but it never fully stopped invaders, and some would always slip through to cause havoc in the closest settlements. These demons would usually leave before the Challenge was over but if they couldn't make it back through before the end of the seven days, they'd be trapped here.
If we managed to fight back the invaders, then after the Challenge was finished, we'd be able to leave through the Fracture and start our own Challenge. As far as I was aware, this had not happened for almost a hundred years. Master Shen had told us that going through the Fracture was a death sentence and so King William had stopped anyone from going through when he took the crown.
There were also instances when we lost. Most of the time the Fracture was red but sometimes it did become the dreaded Orange. When the colour changed, it meant Radan was about to be ravaged. Never in our history had we managed to fight off an Orange Challenge. It didn't matter if it was led by beasts, monsters, or demons - they'd tear through our defences and pillage the land like we weren't even there. Luckily one hadn't happened for a couple decades. We'd still lost some Challenges in that time but they weren't totally devastating losses.
Despite the downsides, Morgana, Dillon, and I loved learning about the Challenges. Especially when it came to the loot. Radan gained so much from all of the foreign substances, and we'd dream of being the ones to find the next revolutionary item.
Morgana was obsessed with the invader beasts and her dream was to capture a unique herd and start a farm.
Dillon always agreed with Morgana but thought we should also be trying to tame the monsters or at least breeding them. It had been tried over the years but monsters were very different to beasts and rejected domestication at every stage.
I honestly just wanted loot and thought the best way to get that was by killing the invading demons. Yeah, the beasts and monsters had value but you needed to know so much to be able to use them. What do I know about poison glands? When it came to the demons, well they always carried weapons and you didn't need any knowledge to know that they were useful.
So we'd bond during Master Shen's classes. Each of us talked about what we'd find when it was our time to do national service, dreaming of riches. Over time we became close friends, and I learned they had both lost their parents - Dillon's had died during a Crusade and Morgana's had succumbed to illness - they'd met each other on the streets and started watching each other's backs. By the time I met them, they were living in an abandoned tunnel under the city.
One day when I was eleven my father came home angrier than usual and hit me so hard I thought I'd die. The next day I asked if I could come live with them and luckily for me, Morgana said yes. We've been inseparable ever since.
The tunnel honestly wasn't too bad to live in. Sure it was dark, smelly, and had the occasional rat but it was safe. We'd managed to get some old sheets and poles to divide the area into 3 bedrooms and a shared area, and over the years we'd lifted some pretty nice furniture. Nice for an abandoned tunnel anyway.
We got by stealing and begging for each chip and coin. It was a life of crime for us and there was no question of morality for younger me. As far as I was concerned, a rich target could afford to lose some stuff. If you really think about it, in a way we were performing a social service by taking from the wealthy to give to the poor. It's just that we were the poor.
Occasionally we would have jobs or paid errands but they were few and far between. It honestly was hard to work as kids. The most common one we could get was usually delivery type jobs where someone would need a message or a package taken from A to B. These were easy enough considering how familiar we were with the city streets.
There were times when Dillon told us how he'd happily do those jobs for life, and how it was a shame they were so inconsistent. We could have tried to get a consistent gig doing it but all the regular delivery jobs were always for businesses, and required some mode of transport we simply couldn't afford.
Morgana sometimes helped out in the taverns when they were busy but it was always on the poor side of town so the tips weren't great. If it was a particularly rough one, the customers could get too familiar and well, that got me and Dillon riled up.
You see over the years I'd started to develop feelings for Morgana. She was gorgeous, and kind, and funny. It was honestly hard not to. And then Dillon was a loyal friend, like a brother really, so seeing men flirt with her brought out our protective instincts.
Much to our chagrin, we weren't exactly capable of beating down adults so we had to settle for getting our revenge by picking their pockets. It wasn't the most profitable of exercises and we both received a clip or two round the ear for our attempts. Luckily the tavern gigs weren't too regular.
The biggest earner for us was when we got a job from Marky the Fence. Marky was an old bastard who had his fingers in all the wrong pies. Rumour had it that he used to be big time in a gang but stepped down and entered retirement. This was mind blowing on its own because everyone knew there was only one way you left a gang; death.
It was well known the criminal underworld would kill anyone who tried to get away. In their view, by not being in their world any more you were a risk. If you left you didn't have skin in the game. If you didn't have skin in the game, how could they trust you to keep their secrets? That was a big part of why we had never sought out any of the known groups. Once you are in, you might never get out.
For Marky to be a supposed big shot and retire meant that he was not to be messed with. Either he was owed some serious favours or he had the respect of some serious people. Not that it mattered too much to us really.
As far as we were concerned, Marky was our all purpose store. We could take him anything of value and he'd buy it off us and shift it on. There was no doubt that we got the short end of the stick when it came to pricing but at the end of the day, it was reliable money and that was hard to come by.
The other big benefit of being connected to Marky were the odd jobs he'd send our way. That's how we met him actually.
It was years ago now when we were going through a rough patch when it came to financial acquisition. We had some gear we were sitting on from a series of burglaries but nobody was interested in buying them, and things were looking incredibly bleak. It got to the point where we were getting a bit desperate and decided to chase any rumour of income, no matter how credible.
After a couple nights roaming around the nearest traveller camp we heard about a guy in a pawnshop towards the edge of the city who needed help. The rumour was that he'd lost something down a pipe and needed someone small enough to crawl in there to get it.
Apparently the pawnshop owner, Marky, was offering three coins to anyone who'd get it out for him. The kicker was that only someone small would fit in the pipe, and the pipe itself wasn't on Marky's property.
The whole situation was quite suspicious. Afterall, why would some random travellers be talking about these details in public?
Truthfully we were a bit too naive to realise just how strange that was and so off we set to find this mysterious pawnshop owner who was offering a couple days pay for a simple job.
We found Marky's pawnshop after an hour or two of searching but by then the sun had firmly set. Looking back, it seems obvious that you wouldn't approach somewhere dodgy in the middle of the night but honestly, it didn't even come to mind as we started casing the place.
Casing the place? You're probably thinking. Well yeah. We were thieves. Our first instinct when coming across anywhere new was to work out how we'd break in. I mean, what if there was something nice we needed to borrow without letting the owner know?
The pawnshop was a detached three story building in the middle of a cobbled street. It was very odd looking as it had a turret on one side that wouldn't have been out of place on a castle. Well it would have looked out of place because of the size difference but you get what I mean.
Surrounding the building was a two metre sand moat. It was the strangest thing. A sand moat. Why would anyone need a sand moat? It was only recently that I figured it out actually. After years of knowing him.
Other than the turret and the sand moat, the only other interesting feature about the building was the bars on the windows. Four windows in total and all of them had big metal bars going horizontally behind the glass. It was clear that the owner valued his security and breaking in wouldn't be easy.
It was on our third lap of the building when we finally met Marky.
"You lot are making me nervous," came a gruff voice from the now open pawnshop door. "Are you gonna try break in or what?"
All three of us froze and Morgana took a step back ready to run. I stopped any potential retreat with a hand on her wrist.
"We're here to get a job, remember?" I whispered to her, keeping my eyes trained on the man in the doorway.
He was taller than average with the flattest shoulders I'd ever seen. I remember wondering if I could use them to hold a drink. He wore a nondescript dark top with a loose neckline that showed off a thick gold chain, and on his waist must have been ten daggers. It was clear to me at that moment that even if we had wanted to, it would be a bad idea to break into this guy's building. Dillon must have come to the same conclusion because I felt him move in front of Morgana.
"We're here about a job?" I said to the scary man, my voice breaking slightly.
"Is that a question or a statement?" He replied, the corners of his mouth raising slightly.
"A-a statement" I responded, trying to get my nerves under control. "We heard you need help getting something from a pipe?"
"You did, did you? And what makes you think you're the right people for the job?" His eyes roved over us as he unholstered one of his daggers, using it to clean bits under his nails. It was unnerving and it took me a second to realise I wasn't responding.
"Well we're good at getting things" was my answer. Real articulate of me. You're probably thinking I'm a natural salesman but give me some credit, I was only thirteen or so.
Marky laughed. "Right, well you better come in then and we can discuss the details." With that he disappeared into the building.
"We should leave," Dillon said, tugging Morgana's hand to lead her away. "I don't want to go in there."
Morgana looked like she agreed with him but I didn't want to give up that easily. After all the payment was meant to be three coins.
I kept hold of Morgana's other wrist. "Come on guys it'll be okay. Think of the payment. Where else would we be able to make such easy money?"
"He's strapped up with daggers Brandon, this can't be some normal job," Dillon said, tugging Morgana slightly harder.
"It's three coins. It's worth the risk. If anything bad happens, I'll distract him and you two can run."
"I don't know Brandon, look at the bars on the window," Morgana interjected. "How would we even get out?"
She wasn't wrong. I didn't really have a plan to get out if he locked the door but my mind was occupied by the thought of making money.
"Guys, it's a pawnshop. If we play our cards right here, we might be able to offload some of the gear we've got back home."
That gave them both pause. Like I mentioned earlier, it was hard to shift certain bits we'd stolen. Generally our fences would only buy off us when there was demand for a specific item and a lot of the time we just stole whatever looked valuable.
"I hate to say it but why don't you go in on your own, and we'll wait out here so we can get help if anything goes wrong?" Dillon suggested.
I really wasn't enthused by the idea but Morgana and Dillon had both been inching further away from the building and it was clear they weren't going to enter any time soon.
"Yeah, we can call for the guards if you're not out in an hour or two." Morgana added, placing her hand on my arm. The feel of her touch sent electric shocks through my body and my heart started pumping.
"I suppose that makes sense. It's probably good for us to split up anyway in case of any issues." I tried to sound more eager than I felt.
If anything went wrong, would it even matter if Morgana and Dillon found help? I trusted my friends but if the pawnshop owner decided to harm me, I doubted they'd be able to get to me in time. My decision was made though and I walked over to the pawnshop.
Just before I entered, I turned back and saw Dillon take Morgana's hand and pull her further into the trees. A good decision I thought, as they'd be hidden and further away should anything come up.
I took a deep breath and steeled my nerves. Sure, I was about to enter a building that looked like a fortress so I could strike a deal with a man who could use me as a toothpick but what was the worst that could really happen?
In the years to come I'd ruminate on that decision a lot. How much different would my life have been if I hadn't entered that building? If it was Dillon that went in instead of me? If all three of us went inside? If I knew then what I do now, would I have still gone in? Because one thing was certain, unbeknownst to me, my life was about to change.
The inside of the pawnshop was honestly exactly what I'd expected. There were trinkets lining shelves, freestanding, and hanging from the rood. Pots and pans shared space with vases and cloaks, knives and forks were lined up next to swords, there was even a clothes rack filled with childrens clothes. Curiously, everything had a price tag. I knew all sorts would be getting sold but even the display cases had a price which took me by surprise. What would he do if someone bought all the items he used to display the actual goods?
"You finally worked up the courage to enter then?" The man called out to me. He was sitting on a stool behind a counter, using one of his knives to carve what looked like a frame for an hourglass. Looking around, there were multiple hourglasses of varying quality and size dotted about the place. It must have been a hobby of his.
He was younger than I thought he'd be. Looking at his face, I would have guessed he was no older than forty five.
"We heard you were paying three coins for a job?" I said to him, my eyes still darting around the room.
"You heard right," he said with a grin. This close I could see the glint of gold in his mouth. "Do you know what the job is?"
"You need to retrieve something from a pipe".
He laughed, "Yeah, that's right. And you think you can do it?"
I shrugged my shoulders "Sure. We're good at retrieving things and we know the tunnels well."
"It's not that sort of pipe," he said, eyes locking onto mine.
"What do you mean?" I asked. I knew the situation wasn't going to be straightforward but I thought it was going to be breaking into some sewage tunnels or something.
He tossed me something from under his counter.
I fumbled it twice but caught it before it hit the floor. Don't judge me, it was a weird shape and I wasn't expecting the throw.
I turned it around in my hands and realised it was a smoking pipe. What could we need to get from inside one of these? The confusion must have been written on my face because he put me out of my misery.
"Feel the bottom of the bowl. Can you notice the indentation?"
I did, it was barely noticeable but there was a difference in the feel. I pressed it in and a container popped out.
"That's what I want you to retrieve for me. The pipe belongs to a man known as Bobby Drewing, and the one you're holding is an exact replica of the one he has."
He got up and walked around to stand next to me.
"It's very important that you don't read the note that's stored in Bobby's pipe," he said as he put his hand on my shoulder. I felt the weight of his arm and understood the implication.
"Er. Understood. I won't look." I stammered out.
He smiled again "What's your name kid?"
"Brandon. Brandon Horlock." I told him.
"Well Brandon Brandon Horlock, my name is Marky. If you're able to retrieve the message from Bobby's pipe then this could be the start of a business arrangement between us. Would you like that?"
"What sort of business arrangement?" I asked him.
He gave me a flat look, "Don't ask dumb questions kid. I'm a pawnshop owner and you're a thief. What sort of arrangement do you think we'd have?" He shook his head and went back to his stool.
"Bobby hangs round the docks most mornings and spends his evenings in that godforsaken tavern on Miralder Street. Do you know it?"
Miralder Street was notorious in Radan for being one of the most violent places you could go outside of The Fracture. Every metre of the road seemed to constantly be covered in blood and there was always at least one fight going on. We'd always tried to steer clear of it because it was so dangerous. As far as we were aware, not even the authorities spent time there.
"I know it. It's dangerous there."
"Does danger scare you Brandon?"
I thought about the answer before I replied. I wanted to seem brave so my instinct was to lie but there was something about the way he looked at me that made me think that would be a bad decision.
"Yes," I answered, locking eyes with him. For a brief moment his lips downturned. "But money makes it worth it."
"Ha!" he boomed. "Yeah, I think we'll get along well. If you're clever about it you'll be able to avoid going to Miralder Street. The docks have their own dangers of course but they should be safer for someone like you."
He looked me up and down "Though you are quite big. How old are you? Fourteen? Fifteen?"
"Thirteen," I replied.
He nodded, "You're big for your age. Show me your arms."
I pulled up my sleeves and rotated my arms for him. He beckoned me closer and gripped my muscles. It was like I was in a vice though he didn't squeeze so it wasn't painful.
"You've got some muscle as well. Do you know how to fight?"
"Yeah I can fight," I told him, lifting my chin up.
He laughed again and pushed me away "Good, that'll help you in this business. If you're not already learning a martial art at the Academy I suggest you do so. Street fighting is one thing but nothing compares to mastering a style."
His words made me think that was something he had done and I once again reaffirmed my decision to not steal from this man.
He described Bobby as a bearded old fool who'd stand out because he'd be the 'only lamppost smoking a pipe' and then sent me on my way. He wanted the contents of the pipe within the week or the deal would be off. Not only that but he said he'd be unhappy if we failed as it would have wasted his time. I took it for the threat it was but at that point I felt like I was already committed.
Morgana and Dillon were still in the woods when I exited and thankfully hadn't called the guards. I'd later find out that it wouldn't matter even if they did. The guards round here were all on Marky's payroll and they wouldn't lift a finger for some street rats.
It was quickly agreed between the three of us that we'd target Bobby at the docks. Miralder Street was simply too dangerous and we'd stand out like sore thumbs just being there. Never mind the fact we'd need to skulk about trying to rob someone.
The others weren't too enthused about the job but I let them know Marky had all but said he'd be willing to fence our stolen items if we managed it, and he'd let me keep the replica pipe which should help with whatever scheme we came up with.
We headed back home to the tunnel as it was already far beyond the reasonable time three kids should be on the streets and went to bed with the plan of stalking the docks looking for Bobby in the morning.