Brynn fought her way through the guards. Her bounty was for a self-proclaimed “thief lord,” though as far as she was concerned, such pathetic scum as him didn’t deserve such a grand title. Nor could he afford to hire good help, if the ease with which she dispatched his guards was any indication.
They fell around her, until she stood in front of the so-called thief lord himself. He sat on a makeshift throne, a gaudy piece of furniture constructed out of stolen goods cobbled together. Any impressiveness it might have caused was diminished by the terrified face of the man who sat on it.
She marched toward him, blade in hand. This proved to be a worthless job. At least she’d get the bounty for him, but despite this area’s seedy reputation, she found nothing that provided even a clue about her true quarry.
“Wait!” The thief scrambled off of his throne and backed away, hands in the air. “Can’t we bargain?”
Her lip curled in a sneer. “Why should I bargain with the likes of you?”
“I have information!”
She paused. “What kind of information?”
A little of his composure returned, although he still appeared nervous. “I know what you’re really after. I can help. We can make a deal!”
