Chapter One

         The Dark Lord sat cross-legged outside his favourite cafe, it's rolling canopy shielding him from the last of the waning suns rays, and sipped at his evening cup of earl grey. He had frequented the cafe for years, believing that bustling, crowded places always made for the best rendezvous points should the meeting turn sour. He glanced across the square, squinting through the forest of party-goers. Late as usual.
         
         Of course, very few of his little meetings went south these days. Business was booming; the vaults were fill to brimming with gold, heists, robberies and kidnappings were proving themselves to be more fruitful than ever and staff morale was high. However, our Dark Lord was no fool; he knew that in time all good things come to an end, so he decided that it was time to step down.

         Indeed, When news of Viktor Stithis retirement reached the townsfolk of Karron Val, there was much jubilation across the capital. The infamous dark Lord had plagued the land for nearly a decade, raiding settlements, pillaging escorts of gold en route from the white palace, and abducting virgins, usually the daughters of foreign diplomats, to hold to ransom or for sacrificial purposes (though for many who considered themselves of the shrewder variety in the capital the term 'virgin' was a title to be applied somewhat loosely). Stithis had amused himself at the lengths to which the nobility had sought to have him brought to justice. The bounty on his head had began at one hundred crowns, but was now so large that the actual amount sat beyond the wildest imaginings of the most formidable bounty hunters in the five lands. It was common knowledge that the Duke himself had been so bent on having Stithis brought to heel that he no longer presided over matters of State but rather focused all of his not inconsiderable resources on the manhunt, leaving the running of the city to the already strained Elder Council.

         So, on the dull grey Friday evening when the criers heralded the news of the Dark Lord's disappearance, the streets of Karron Val bore witness to what was said to be the greatest revel in living memory. Merchant barges bearing wines and ales from the southern provinces were instructed to offload and set up pavilions in each of the city's three districts at the Dukes' own request. The townsfolk, or Karvalli, flocked into the squares and central avenues in droves crying out in joy at the promise of what the coming times may bring. Children danced, the women sang and the men, well, the men drank, gathering in groups to share their thoughts on the sudden turnaround in events.

         "Died, I heard." one woman assured her companion as they passed by. "The Kings men paid him a visit in the night time. Took him by surprise."

         "Taken his gold and run, if you ask me. Don't suppose it makes a difference. There's not been a whisper from him in almost a month, then this announcement. Nah, I reckon he's gone, finally."

         The simple truth was that Stithis knew a good thing when he saw it, and seeing balance sheet as substantial as his own, the question arose in his mind as to whether or not it was even possible to spend all of what he had. He'd had a good run, and still had his youth, though for an active member of the Dark Society to reach his 31st age day was almost unheard off. Ten years of reign was certainly nothing to be sniffed at; his predecessor Eric the Vile had lasted barely two seasons, laying his scheming and plotting to one side so as to put his efforts toward drinking, feasting and whoring until the latter killed him. No, Stithis understood that if one was to be successful in his line of work then he would need to keep a tight and secretive hold on his personal affairs. No loose ends, no fuck ups.