What Now?
  Loren Turned from the ocean veiw after seeing that the last bit of white sail, turned a firey yellow by the remaining light of sunset, dissappear from veiw. As he stepped off of the rickety old docks and onto the streets of Baden's Bluff, the faces of his companions and the shocked expressions on their faces returned to him. They were surprised to find out that he would not be going with them. They had managed to rescue a horde of magic items, mostly weapons, from the Legates that were supposed to be disposed of or destroyed, sacrificed to the dark god somehow, the exact process was unknown to Loren, but it didn't matter to him anyway. He and his friend's thievery had brought the attention of the Legates and their massive undead wyvern upon them. Eveyone else knew it was time to get out of the city as fast as they could, Loren only knew that it was time to sever ties with them and get back to business. They were all good people, excellent theives, and best of all - professionals.
  Unfortunately he knew that he couldn't lead them, if anything they were going to get him killed if he stuck with them much longer. Too many conflicts of interest, too many strong personalities amoungst the group, too many of them wanting to be in charge and make the plans, but no one wanted to listen, follow through, or do what was asked of them. If thieves are going to survive in this world, they have to know how to work together. But alas, somebody in the group was getting greedy. One of the items that they had found was a magical axe of some sort, it seemed to pull its weilder either in the direction of safety or in the direction of hidden treasure...acutally it had seemed to do both while Loren was holding it just a few short hours ago. The axe is what led him to a hidden stash of goods that someone in his group had hid in the wall of the basement behind some loose brick and mortar. some iron ingots suitable for crafting into tools, a dagger and some strange sticky leaves with an odd residue on them. Someone went to great lengths to hide this from him and the others. Thieves will be thieves, but it was a turn that he didn't appreciate, not after the fact that he had risked his onw life for them, not once but twice. On those very docks, he thought to himself looking over his shoulder. He had killed an Orc on the deck of a ship to keep it from discovering his friends below deck, pilfering through crates of goods that they would later use for bribes and currency. The other time was just outside the building where the magic items were being kept. The others had found a way in through the sewers, but in order to make sure that they could make their get away, the Orcish guards outside the building had to be distracted. Loren remembers how he had stepped out into the middle of the street where they could see him, shouting at the top of his lungs, declaring to them and anyone within earshot his ability to read, the stolen nails in his possession, and the fact that he called the Orcs' heritage into question...that was probably the hardest and the fastest that he had ever run in his life.
  Afertwards came the arguments about what to do with the loot that they had found and who deserved what pieces. They only had to take down a single Orc and a Goblin thanks to him, the other 10 Orcs where nowhere to be found when the Goblin called for reinforcements before the Gnome put an arrow through the Goblin's Throat. That was all because of him, because Loren risked his life for the group and for the prize. Once they had made it away safely with the biggest score of their carreer, it seemed to Loren as if everyone wanted to the perceivably best peices for themesleves and wanted to ditch the rest so as not to attract the attention of the Orcs and the Legates...Well then what in the hell was the point of doing this in the first place? He pushed the thought out of his head, reminding himself that he still had all of the nails and a nice piece of light armor from the boat heist and a magical dagger from the Temple, all in all not a bad cut.
  Unfortunately, loot isn't the only thing that they bring to the table that you get a percentage of. You also get a cut of their fear, doubt, and apprehension. You have to deal with that, because one person sitting at the table with fearis all it takes to infect everyone. There's no room for fear, not in a world like this. Fear was how the Dark God and his Orcs and Legates controlled everyone else, and now fear of them had driven his companions to leave Baden's Bluff. All of this is what brought Loren to the conclusion that he should strike out on his own, again. If he was to fulfill his dream of running his own theives guild, or even just a gang of cut-throats who were going to make it possible for him to be running this city in a few years, it was time to move on.
  "I'm not leaving," His last words to them ringing in his own ears. "I wish you all the best of luck, but I'm not leaving." When they wanted to know why, he didn't tell them that it was because he was pretty sure that the giant undead lizard thing was tracking the large concentration of magic items that they carried with them, but he did tell them the truth. "Because this is the most exciting place in the world to live, and I'm never leaving." That part was true at least. He did find Baden's Bluff exciting. The difference between every day being a struggle for survival and fun was simply one's attitude. He had handed over all of the other gear and magical weapons that he was carrying and said farewell to them all. Already he planned on being poised and ready to help them if they ever returned, at the same time he realized that if he was still just cutting purses and pulling second story jobs by the time they did come back, they may not think very highly of him. He definately had to make something of himself in the time that they would be away...that's assuming that they would ever come back, alive or at all.
  But first thing was first, food and sleep, it had been a long day. Keeping his head low and moving through the shadowy alleyways, he made his way to one of the taverns off of the Worm Docks. Going inside he did his best to avoid the eyes of the other patrons and stepped up to the bar. He pulled three nails out from under his claok looking to the tavernkeeper.
  "How 'bout it, can you put me up for the night?"
