Gloomhaven, a city on the edge of civilization. There were lots of opportunities to be had in such a place, particularly if one did not mind the occasional (or frequent) bending of the law. How much law there even was here depended on where you were. The city guard ruled the city, but did not patrol all parts equally. It is in the poorest area of town that our story begins.
A vermling, a race shunned by most; she grew up in a pack, but always felt a bit apart, special even. “Cookie”; it was the first word she knew, so of course it was her name. The funny thing was whenever she thought the word, if there was anyone around, they seemed compelled to offer a small tasty treat. She gathered people called these a “cookie” also; must be in honor of her. She wasn’t particularly welcome in the rundown taverns and inns of the district. The tall folk frequently chased her out with brooms or utensils. Still, whenever she thought “cookie”, they would relent for a while and offer one of the tasty morsels. Cookie would gobble up her morsel and then scurry off to some alley or other for a well-earned nap. After a while, though, Cookie grew curious. There were other smells from the kitchen besides the morsels she was given, and in the dining halls, she could see shiny objects catching her eye with their glint. Surely, if her senses were so drawn to them, these things were hers to take. The big folk were often too distracted to notice her scamper in and out with a newfound prize in her furry hands.
Elsewhere in these slums, a young human was growing up. Orphaned at a young age, Keliah had to learn to fend for herself. It gave her an edge, which as far as she was concerned was for the better. The world was clearly an unfair place, so what use had she for the rules of so-called society. The real definition of “property” should be whatever one could grab and hold. So, Keliah took to a life of petty theft; pick pocketing, breaking and entering, and the occasional mugging.
The best place to work were the overcrowded taverns on the edge of the district; enough wealth came in, while enough law stayed out. This day, Keliah had her eye on a mark with a purse that was clearly too large for his needs. His lack of attention practically begged her to take it. She moved slowly towards him around the perimeter of the room, staying in the shadows. Closer and closer, just a few more steps and she could grab her prize, when all of a sudden, a fuzzy blur darted out from under the benches and between the oaf’s boots, lifting the coin purse that Keliah was so carefully stalking. The little rat creature scurried away, with Keliah now in hot pursuit, abandoning her stealth.
Keliah almost lost sight of the furry flee-er as she darted into an alley. Keliah just managed to keep up and finally cornered the vermling. “You stole my target!” Keliah shouted. The vermling looked confused; “But this wants to be Cookie’s shinies.” Keliah was taken back by the strange logic; but also she felt a tugging at her brain. Somehow, this strange little vermling seemed to be manipulating her thoughts. The two began to argue. As they exchanged words, they realized they had more in common then the simple, initial disagreement over a few coins. By night’s end, they had somehow reached an agreement; working together could be far more profitable then working separately. Now, to visit the Quatryl community to see about a fence, and maybe some gadgets . . .
iggysden 