“And you think I’m going to be able to retrieve this dagger of yours without bumping into Lyran?”

“For a person with your fearsome reputation, Grey Cat, such a feat would be a mere exercise in the basics of thievery, would it not?” Makarr said, a wicked grin etched into the features of his weathered face.

Sitting atop his throne, with the light from the lantern highlighting the sharp angles of his face, Makarr looked like some demonic predator, eyeing its helpless prey with wry amusement.

There’s more to this job than what the Beggar King has revealed. Years of experience have taught him to look for the subtle clues to see when a client or mark is hiding something; Makarr might think himself clever for trying to keep the truth of the matter under wraps, but the signs were there nevertheless. By the end of this, I’ll get him to reveal all his cards, even the ones that he keeps in his sleeves and thinks I know nothing about. Just you wait, Beggar King.

The man who styled himself King of the city’s slums and malcontents licked his lips devilishly before continuing on his honeyed path. Read more…