The sun had fallen behind the hills many an hour ago and torches now provided the light to the thieves' hideout. It's design was crude. The wall surrounding the thieves' fort-like hideout was constructed with sharpened logs and proved no challenge for Alistaire to scale. Dropping to the ground inside the wall, the honourable thief scanned the courtyard he found himself in. Several wooden buildings curved around one side of the courtyard opposite the large, closed gate. Tens of torches lit almost every corner of the fort and six sentries patrolled the interior.
'This is going to be harder than I expected,' Alistaire thought. Though no sooner had he mused it, he saw a man emerge from one of the buildings. He wore black leathers and a curious steel helm barely concealing his long orange hair. He looked exactly how the witness described him.
Alistaire's eyes narrowed, 'That's the no good, son of a mule that robbed me.'
The robber traversed the courtyard, unaware of the thief crouched in the shadows, and approached the central structure. While the ginger robber worked at unlocking the structure's door, Alistaire noticed a gap in the sentries' movements and rushed to take advantage. He waved a hand, extinguishing several torches from a distance, and ran silently behind a sentry towards the central building.
'It must be a treasury of some kind,' he thought. 'None of the other buildings have locks on the doors.' He reached the side of the building and peered around the corner at the ginger burglar as he unlocked the door and swung it wide open. Alistaire gestured and magically produced the sound of rustling grass on the other side of the robber, who's head swung towards the noise as quickly as a frightened dog. He took a tentative step toward the noise then stopped and yelled at one of his sentries, 'I heard something over there.' He pointed, 'Check it out.' Satisfied that the sentries would handle it he stepped into the treasury, closing the door behind him.
'Greetings.' Startled, the robber spun from the door towards the voice. There was someone in his treasury. Impossible. Yet there he was, standing next to his very large, wooden chest. Alistaire stepped forward, 'Two days ago you broke into my home and availed yourself of my coin purse. My rather large and heavy coin purse.' Ginger cautiously stepped backwards, Alistaire continued, 'Now, that purse represents an awful lot of time and effort traipsing through caves and dungeons, fighting men and monsters and collecting my just rewards. Imagine how much that coin purse means to me. Now add my considerable lust for money.' His voice turned cold, 'Consider what I would do to the man who took it from me.'
The robber reached for his side, grasping at air. 'Looking for this?' Alistaire held up an ornate dagger. 'It just fell into my hands. Here, allow me to return it to it's rightful owner.' With a violent swing the hilt of the dagger struck the man's temple and he fell in a heap. The shealthed dagger was then dropped on the burglar's unconscious form.
Rounding on the chest, Alistaire pulled a lockpick from a pocket and within moments the chest was open. The robber must have had a busy week for the chest was brimming with gold and a smattering of jewels. Alistaire rooted around in the chest for a few minutes before finding his beloved coin purse. He pocketed it, gave the ginger a swift kick for good measure then left. He could already taste his celebratory ale.
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