Chapter 1

Ki-yo-te has some Fizzy Brown

The Ki-yo-te dodged an arrow, twisting his short body acrobatically as he dove into the streets.  He furrowed his furry, gray brow and wondered where he had gone wrong.  Well, aside from being in front of a loaded bow.  And underestimating the professionalism of the guards. Those were two excellent examples of where he may have gone wrong.  Or was it more of a life choice issue? 

He casually did a second athletic twist around an incoming spear, which nearly nicked his tail, while he pondered the life choices that had led him to this moment.   As he landed back on the cobbled street he bolted away from the guards who had apparently gained a lot of ground during his ill-timed reverie.

The guards in question were not concerned with 

Ki-yo-te’s life choices in general, but only with the choices he had made this evening.  Specifically the many small, but rather valuable, items that he had recently procured before the incident with the ‘pull chain’.  They were also concerned because of their employer.  The employer in question, The Lord Pamplamoose Pithwhithle, was the resident ruling noble. Lord Pithwhithle was in fact the only noble in the town of Smud, by the virtue of him being a direct descendant of a guy who knew a friend of the adopted third cousin of one of the town’s original founders.  Deep roots indeed.  

Ki-yo-te skidded around a corner using an evasion technique called Yogi in the Snow, as another spear flew over his head and stuck into an ornate lamp post.  His time and training in the fabled Buni temple had left him with many useful skills in combat, survival and stealth  As the temple was training priests not thieves, it was, perhaps, lacking when it came to choosing your target.  

Pithwhithle palace, the evening’s target in question, was located in the part of town that one would consider ‘ritzy’. That, unfortunately, also meant it was well-lit and had well cobbled sidewalks which created an environment distressingly free of convenient shadows and crooked alleys.

“Cursed lamplighters,” Ki-yo-te growled under his breath, as he turned another tight corner under a pool of bright lantern light and ducked another batch of sharp pointy things that flew past him.  Luckily the guards, competent though they were, lost ground on the tight turns, as they were not as nimble as Ki-yo-te.  His small form and excellent reflexes kept him ahead of the pack but he was starting to lose wind.  There was a particular house he was trying to get on the edge of the ritzy neighborhood, but it was still a goodly way off.  Even the heavier, rounder bodies of the guards would be able to catch up when he got tired.

Ki-yo-te heard angry shouting ahead and suspected that it meant the guards of other homes were joining in the chase.   Nobody liked a thief and Lord Pithwhithle paid well for their capture.

Just ahead a fancy carriage was dropping off some late night party goers.  Ki-yo-te seized the moment and leapt up between the two horses giving them both a good swat on the backside.  The horses bolted, pulling the carriage straight toward the approaching guards who scattered.

Ki-yo-te took this opportunity to scurry past the surprised party goers, up the steps and dive through the open door, nimbly dodging a footman.   He ran straight through the house, regretfully passing up many rooms full of shiny things, and headed for the kitchens.  His long nose twitched and he followed the smell of bacon to a very surprised cook and dove out the back window. 

He knew he had only a few moments before the guards caught up.  The head Chef was already raising the alarm.  Ignoring the back gate that he was sure was locked, headed for the trash chute.  It slid him out onto the street safe, but covered in greasy slime.

Ki-yo-te’s destination was just up the street and around the corner.  Keeping fast and low he reached the corner where he heard an odd wheezing.  He peeked around the corner to find the herd of guards having a breather.  They saw him at the same time as he saw them. 

He ran and they shambled after with a shout. 

One more quick sprint and Ki-yo-te spotted a familiar iron gate that was standing open in front of an unoccupied home.  He had been looking for this gate, as he was the one that had opened it earlier in the evening as a last-ditch emergency escape route.  The Buni temple had always harped, have a backup plan.

The guards turned the corner.  One managed to throw his spear.  Ki-yo-te acrobatically flipped through the gate using Flopsy’s Gambit (a technique that maximized one’s momentum without breaking stride), while grabbing the spear out of the air.  He used the spear to bat the stick that he had left to prop the gate open.   He landed and sprinted across the grounds toward the back garden.  He heard the guards piling up in a well marbled mass against the closed gate, buying him a few more precious seconds.  That was all the time he needed to get lost in the long neglected bramble that surrounded the old manor house.  

Ki-yo-te crept close to the wall and stayed clear of the rose bushes.  Some of those had thorns that would go right through his light leather armor.  

He listened as the guards flung the gate open and began to uselessly search the front yard, but Ki-yo-te had already made his way to the back.  He carefully pried the head off the guard’s spear to add to his collection and left the shaft where the guards could find it.  With a snicker he moved on.

The back garden of the abandoned estate was in a worse state of repair than the front, full of weeds and undergrowth.  In other words, it contained the shadows that the street had been lacking.   This suited Ki-yo-te just fine.  Shadows were his element and he was able to quickly get to the back wall which butted up against an alley that accessed the seedier (and less well lit) part of town.  With great dexterity, and the ladder he had left there earlier, Ki-yo-te shimmied up the wall, pull the ladder up and go down the other side before the guards saw where he went.

With another snicker (and only the faintest twinge of guilt about using the ancient defensive skills of the ‘Buni Temple’ for ‘free-form procurement’) Ki-yo-te knew the guards would spend the rest of the night searching the garden (none of them would want to be the one to give Lord Pithwhithle the bad news), giving him time to parlay his pilfered procurements of Pithwhithle to a buyer.  He could then get out of sight until the fall-out had blown over.

Ki-yo-te sat and caught his breath while he collected his thoughts.  He needed to be much more careful now that he was over the wall.  This part of town, being the disreputable part, didn’t have guards per-se, but it did have ‘the locals’.  Ki-yo-te knew that the locals here bouts were much more dangerous, and had considerably less restraint than the guards.  Pulling his cloak close he began to sneak through the comforting darkness.  

A cold spring rain had begun as Ki-yo-te reached his destination; an establishment called the ‘Elk and Narwhal Inn’.  As he always did, Ki-yo-te took a moment to ponder the inn’s name and what connection there could be between an elk and a narwhal.  All he could think was that neither one would be good at flying.  Though elk were related to reindeer, and he was pretty sure they could fly. The dark wood of the inn glistened as the rain fell, and Ki-yo-te decided to give up his pondering and get warm.

The inn’s reputation was rough but it had the advantage of being open all night.  The innkeeper (as the result of a curse) never seemed to sleep, though, as a consequence, his brother never seemed to wake.  Ki-yo-te approached the black walnut door and kicked it open with suitable aplomb.

“Greetings friends!” Ki-yo-te yelled as he stepped through the door, drawing the steely gaze of folks who were most definitely not his friends.  Ki-yo-te walked in unconcernedly, went straight to the great fireplace and removed his soaked cloak, looking with disgust at a nick in the hem from one of the spears.  He made a mental note to visit a tailor.  There was a large pile of spear heads on the mantel.  He added the one he had taken.  Every Yule, whomever had added the most got a free meal.  

As the damp layers came off and Ki-yo-te’s form was revealed he drew a number of stares.  The regulars were familiar with his unusual appearance but a few of the non-regulars’ eyes went wide as it became clear that the small figure beneath the cloak wasn’t even human. Ki-yo-te was, in fact, a coyote with grayish brown fur, dressed in loose clothes, and wearing a sword. Anthropomorphic animals were not especially common outside their own lands and colonies. The town of Smud, being a major caravan route, was one of the few places with a large population of bipedal rabbits, cats, badgers, etc.  And, of course, one coyote, or The Ki-yo-te as he had taken to referring to himself in the third person.

One of the ‘not-so-regulars’, noticing the Ki-yo-te had a well-stuffed sack, slid from behind his table and, with commendable sneakiness, approached Ki-yo-te’s back with an upraised club.  The regulars watched in bemused silence, as they had seen this sort of thing play out before and it was often good for a laugh.  Love him (a few) or hate him (the rest), the locals knew Ki-yo-te was no easy mark.

Ki-yo-te did not even turn, though his ears perked up and swiveled around.   He growled, “New guy, aye.  I do not recommend your course of action, my friend.”  He quickly spun, drawing his small sword and whacking the would-be thief across the shins, belly and face so fast that it sounded like a single ‘thwack’.  Ki-yo-te glared down at the would-be mugger, who was now lying on the floor, and continued, “I do not recommend it at all.”  He waggled the sword a bit showing that it did not have the glint of metal, but the well-polished sheen of wood.

The fellow in question scrutinized the small figure before him with calculating eyes as he rose to his feet.  He pulled a dagger and dropped into a street fighter stance. It seemed like he was about to proceed with violence, but then his eyes dropped to the sword’s hilt where the image of a blue rabbit was plainly visible.  Seeing the direction of the would-be robber’s gaze, Ki-yo-te turned the hilt a bit so the rabbit was even more obvious.  He smiled a toothy smile while he waited as the fellow realized what he was seeing.  The rogue quickly backed away and left the inn to the quiet chuckles of the remaining patrons, and a few curses from those who had lost bets, 

“Hah!” said Ki-yo-te in satisfaction, doing a complex flourish with his sword then sheathing it.  A quick hop and he was standing on a barstool gazing at the crowd.

“I am The Ki-yo-te.  If anyone else wants trouble give it to me now, aye.  I hate when my drink gets disturbed.” he announced in his strangely accented, gravelly voice.  As there were no takers for further trouble, Ki-yo-te turned to the innkeeper who had grown familiar with his quirks.

“What do you have that is both fizzy and brown?” asked Ki-yo-te.

The Innkeeper, a Halfling and little taller than Ki-yo-te considered for a moment then said “Water?”

The Ki-yo-te squinted up at the inn keeper suspiciously, “I do not believe I’ve ever drunk fizzy brown water.” he said.

The Innkeeper shrugged while cleaning a cup with a dirty rag and replied “You’ve never drink the water here.”

“How about a root beer?”  Ki-yo-te replied, taking the better part of valor.  The Innkeeper nodded at the wisdom of selecting a drink that required previous boiling and scuttled off to fill a mug. “In a clean cup!” Ki-yo-te shouted at the innkeeper’s back. 

While he was waiting, a small individual leapt onto the stool next to Ki-yo-te.  Concealed in dark clothing, their size was even smaller than Ki-yo-te and the cloak’s hood only revealed cat’s eyes.

“I heard that someone did something foolish tonight, Ki-yo-te.” purred a voice so soft you could use it for a pillow.

“Do you say so Jin the cat, aye?” said Ki-yo-te as his root beer was plopped down “Do tell.  Ooo, fizzy!”, and he noisily slurped.

Jin the cat gave Ki-yo-te a coy side-eye “I heard that someone managed to get into Pithwhithle palace.  I also heard they made it back out with lots of loot.”

Even said in the soft voice, folks’ ears picked up the name Pithwhithle.  Only a fool would admit to having wronged him in some fashion.

“That was me!” said Ki-yo-te happily wiping the foam off his mouth, “And I bet they are worth a fortune!  Are you buying Jin the cat, aye? For cause I am selling!”

She pulled back her hood, and it was indeed a cat with emerald eyes and tabby fur. “Not me” she said “Lord Pithwhithle has already put out the word that whomever did the crime will suffer.  He also said anyone who helps, associates with or even sees that person without reporting will suffer too.  There is a reward for bringing that person in.  A significant reward.”  The last comment was followed by purring and an unsettling stare.

Ki-yo-te realized that announcing that he had done the crime was possibly an error in judgment.  Already patrons were filing out and getting into fights over who could get to the Lord first and claim the reward.

“Curses!” said  Ki-yo-te looking sadly into his empty mug and wondering if he had time for another, “Are you going to report me too, aye?  Turn me in for some gold, will you, hmm?”

“There is a saying among cats,” replied Jin swirling her diminutive cup of nip’o’the cat.

“‘If cats could talk, they would lie’?” replied Ki-yo-te, saying the only cat quote he knew.

Jin shook her gray striped head in irritation “No, the other one.  “We have to have some honor, I guess.’’  You’re a friend after all, but you need to clear out of town, for a long while.  I doubt Pamplamoose Pithwhithle will forget this anytime soon.”

“Curses!”  Ki-yo-te said again, dropped a few coins on the counter (thief or not, always pay the innkeeper), gave Jin a nod, and slipped back out into the rainy gloom to seek safe shelter for the night.  He had been looking forward to a warm room in the inn.  Now it would have to be someplace no one would look.  

The sun rose over a very disgruntled Ki-yo-te.  He had spent a very uncomfortable night sleeping in a chicken coop.  He had not slept well and had occasionally heard the guards as they searched town.  Jin’s idea of leaving town may have been a good one.

The town of Smud had been his home for the few years since he left the greater city of Cathuria, but he did not know much about the lands outside of the walls.  He felt the best plan would be to go down the caravaneers gate and see if anyone could give him guidance.  Ki-yo-te gave a sigh and made a list of supplies he would need.  He then dug around in his disguise bag.    He needed to be extra unrecognizable today so he went all out in his disguise.  Luckily, disguises were one of his specialties.

A short time later, as Ki-yo-te headed across town, he was cursing the train on the long dress he had opted to wear.  It kept getting hung on everything he passed and was scooping up filth like a broom.  He noticed that there were already many ‘wanted’ signs about and the artist had done a fine likeness.  Ki-yo-te grabbed a few to hang on his wall wherever he ended up.

Ki-yo-te worked his way slowly across town, pushing a small perambulator to hide stuff in, glad that his disguise skills were so masterful.  One of the survival skills taught at The Buni temple was blending in.  Ki-yo-te felt another light twinge of guilt about using those ancient skills for thievery, but a feller had to buy food and knick-knacks.  He also made a point of tossing a few coins in the cup of every beggar he passed.  It was good karma and it guaranteed that, if asked by the guards, that they didn’t see a thing.

Luckily there were also a good many anthropomorphic animals out today, so that Ki-yo-te didn’t draw too much attention, but nonetheless he kept his eyes on a swivel.

Ki-yo-te worked through his supply list slowly at several different market booths, so no one shopkeeper would get suspicious.  He was just trying to figure out the difference between iron spikes and iron rations when he came to the great market around the main gate.  This is where the caravans gathered.  The great market square of Smud was huge and crammed with booths of merchants yelling, selling and trading.  Ki-yo-te took the opportunity to lift a few carelessly held coin pouches as he moved to the back wall where caravan-masters gathered to discuss routes and meet new clients.  He regretted the stolen pouches mostly contained Whithles.  The local currency was a ceramic coin and only useable in Smud.

He looked around the dusty stalls of horses, mules and camels that were patiently munching as they prepped to go too far exotic places under the oversight of experienced caravaneers.  Trying to see if any of them seemed approachable, he spotted one such man who seemed well off and good natured.

Ki-yo-te approached the caravan master and on closer inspection saw that he looked like a man who knew good places to get lost.

“Umm, excuse me,” he said (in a terrible caricature of a woman’s voice) to the brightly dressed merchant who looked like he had seen many an exotic locales and considerable amounts of rich food.

“Yes Sweet lady!” he said, setting his many chins a wiggle, “I am Abdul, Master of this caravan!  Could I interest you in fine spices, a bit of candy or a stuffed dandy for the…uhhh…lovely child?” 

Ki-yo-te, momentarily mesmerized by the dance of many chins, didn’t quite know how to ask where to go to lay low for crimes against the lord so he followed his golden rule.  When in doubt, be blunt.

“I was just wondering” said Ki-yo-te in his falsetto “Where would one go if they wanted to say, leave town and lay low where no one would find them?  Err, hypothetically.”

The merchant seemed amused and surprised by the question “I can’t imagine why a pretty young thing like you would need to consider such options.  Why do you inquire from Abdul about such things?”

“Umm…I’m writing a novel?  About a rogue.  A handsome rogue.  Very handsome.” replied Ki-yo-te.  That sounded realistic.  Ish.

The Caravan Master spit on the ground setting his many jowls in motion once more “Rogues! Thieves you mean!  You should write about the hardworking people and honest merchants.  Why, imagine how much adventure there is in acquiring a bag of beans in far off lands, or riding an ox all day, every day, for weeks on end until the blisters are permanent!  There is a subject worth reading about!  Why the main route from the gate passes along pirate ridden coasts, lands of trolls, and the darkness of the Forbidden Forest!  It takes a special kind of person to pass those places but not go near!”

Ki-yo-te’s ears perked up at that last name, as he had heard it mentioned before but had not given it much thought “Forbidden Forest?  Ooo that does sound interesting, aye.  A good hiding place mayhaps?”

Abdul, pleased with the attentive listener, went on boisterously “Oh yes!  It is a dark place, full of terrible creatures.  Why, it lays not a week South of where we are right now!  You could write about how honest merchants give such a place a wide berth to more readily keep our prices low! Now that would be a story worth telling!”

“Indeed,” said  Ki-yo-te,  “How interesting!” but he was more interested in the guards that had appeared and were taking a long hard look at anyone under 4 feet tall. The guards were followed by a ridiculously large horse bearing Pamplamoose Pithwhithle, Lord of the Land, Knight of the realm and captain of the Rugby team.

At his appearance the entire square became silent and a wide berth was given.  The Lord, despite his anger management issues, was a striking individual.  His armor shined, his jaw was square, his face angelic and skin like polished ebony.  Except for his eyes.  They were dark and angry.  The Lord Pithwhithle wasn’t a cruel man, but he was stern and unforgiving.

The Lord clicked his heels against the horse’s pure white flanks and said in a manly tenor, “Onward Rosewater.”  He then proceeded to ride into the middle of the square and proclaimed “Evening last, a delinquent most foul entered my home and pilfered that which was mine.  Said miscreant must be found post-with and brought to justice post-haste.  Whosoever brings this thief to me shall be rewarded richly.  Until that time, the gates are to be sealed and none shall enter or leave.”  He gave the crowd a withering glare whilst the gates were cranked shut with a thud.    

After a moment he waved a hand dismissively and said, “Well then, hop to.  And don’t forget that attendance at Friday’s match against the Woodchucks is mandatory!  We’ll give those Woodchucks what-for!”  

Lord Pithwhithle turned his horse about, tossed a few coins toward the beggar’s wall, and trotted off. The guards were left to begin thorough search.

Ki-yo-te felt a sick weight form in his stomach and said to Abdul “Well, I must be going!  Thank You kind sir.  I’m sure I can fill a chapter or two with your, err….beans.”  

Abdul waved, causing his whole body to become a seismic anomaly. “You are welcome dear lady, and remember!  Nothing interesting about thieves!” in a loud happy voice, though Abdul’s eyes looked worried as the gates clanged shut with a definitive thud.

Ki-yo-te hurried back to his coop and knew that he needed implement plan ‘B’ for traveling money.  Ki-yo-te changed back into his regular clothes and went to meet ‘a guy’, as they say in the business, to see if he could unload the loot.  The guy in question was an opportunistic rogue himself, but Ki-yo-te needed some coin for his journey and picking pockets wasn’t going to do it.  

The guy was famous for being someone who was willing to buy anything from anyone, though Ki-yo-te had to be wary, as it was just as likely this guy would try to catch him and collect the reward himself.  Dangerous, but beggars could not be choosers.

He went to meet ‘The Guy’ (no one knew his actual name; he was just ‘The Guy’) in the alley behind the tower of the local historical society.  The Guy used it because it was out of the way and the least visited building in the city.  Ki-yo-te skirted the tower, which seemed unduly tall and fancy for a historical society.   He gave the door a wide berth in case history tried to jump out and make him learn something.

The Guy was around the back tossing dice with a small herd of large muscly thugs that smelled like protein powder.  They were all dressed more or less like pirate Olympians. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” said The Guy with a big smile when he spotted Ki-yo-te.  His smile contained more gold than the toilet seat.  “Come over and let me see what you have.” he waved Ki-yo-te over toward a small table and chairs, ostensibly within his ring of thuggery.

“Hah!” said Ki-yo-te, staying at the end of the alley and eyeballing the grinning thugs. “I am not getting near anyone whose arms are thicker than I am tall.”  He began to pull items out of the loot bag and show them off from where he was standing.  There was a golden soap dish, hairbrush, mirror, toilet seat and other similar items.  All decorated heavily with gold and assorted gems.

The Guy looked at Ki-yo-te with a questioning gaze “There’s a theme here.” he said.

Ki-yo-te replied with exasperation, “I climbed in the bathroom window, okay.  I would have gotten more stuff, but the toilet flusher was gold.  I grabbed it the toilet flushed and woke up Lord Pithwhithle and the rest is history.”  As he spoke, Ki-yo-te frisbeed the toilet seat to The Guy.

The guards gave a snicker at Ki-yo-te’s misfortune, but gold from the bathroom was still gold.

“For terlet gold I’ll give you 20 silver coins, and you have to wash it off while I watch.” said The Guy with a smirk that told Ki-yo-te that he knew that there was no one else who could fence this loot.  

“Twenty!  For treasure that has been graced by the touch of the tender flesh of nobility! It’s an insult!” replied Ki-yo-te hotly “I risk life and limb for items of pure gold, aye!  100 coins I say!”

The Guy laughed uproariously, showing off all of his remarkable dental work.  “I don’t generally haggle, but I like you Ki-yo-te, and that answer was poetry.  How about I make it 25, and I’ll try not to think about what kind of noble flesh has been gracing that seat.  Plus I may change my mind about turning you over to Lord Pithwhithle.”

Ki-yo-te rolled that comment around in his head as he heard several more burly toughs walk up behind him cracking their knuckles.   Ki-yo-te’s natural mental slipperiness then kicked in “I would love to sell them that cheap, aye, but you are a friend and I would hate to cheat a friend.”

“Cheat?” said The Guy, dropping his smile and looking confused and suspicious, “How so?  Is it fake?”  He was about to lick the gold seat to test for the distinctive taste of gold, but then remembered from whence it came.

“Not at all” said Ki-yo-te thinking fast “These items, poor as they are, are only as valuable as the buyer who pays for them, aye?  The first sale sets the value.”

The Guy considered that “I suppose so, yea.  The more I pay, the more I can sell them for, therefore the more valuable they are.  The price is dictated by the buyer, that’s just economics.”

“Just so!  So then if I allow you to buy these fine goods for such a paltry sum, their value will be very low.  The amount you resell them for would be terrible, after the risk you are taking to handle such items.  A mere twenty-five coins is an insult. I will not allow you to take such a financial risk on behalf of the Ki-yo-te.  I will move on.”

The Guy seemed both confused and interested. “You know,” he said, “Maybe you’re right.  I’ll pay you a hundred and twenty five, and not one cent less!  I can fence them for twice that!”

“I, uhh, grudgingly accept.” The Ki-yo-te answered with surprise, as he had not been expecting his ploy to be nearly that successful, but when brains were being passed out this street may have been overlooked.  Or they may have all been sharing the same one.

The guy tossed a bag of coins and a thug grabbed the remaining loot.  The Ki-yo-te snatched the coin pouch out of the air and was about to turn away when the guy said “I do like you Ki-yo-te.  You’ve always been good for a laugh and you treat the beggars right, so I’m going to give you advice.  You should leave town. The Lord Pithwithle has been even more rabid than usual about this theft.  Best thing you could do for yourself is get gone.  Permanently.  And make sure he knows you’re gone so he’ll open the gates.”

“I’ve heard that a lot recently.” replied Ki-yo-te glumly “I heard tell of a place to hide out for a while.  The Forbidden Forest, aye?  You heard of it maybe?  It has secrets that I can plum perhaps?!”

The guard that had picked up the loot spoke up in a high pitch voice “Aint no plums in that forest, just bug-bears and phantoms.”

Ki-yo-te’s ears perked up at the sound of the mysterious “Phantoms you say?  Like ghosts, aye?”

“Nah,” said another thug who seemed to be in a permanent state of flex, “Ghosts make sense.  They look like people, or spirit dogs or what not.  The phantoms is just blobs o’ shadow.  And if’n they getcha, you become a phantom too.  Aint nuthin’ safe from a phantom but a dwarf.  But then they has got to deal with the bug-bears, and bug-bears is a lot more common.”

“And we don’t hardly see dwarfs no more neither too.” chimed in the first guard in an all-out assault on language. “Been years since I done had me a mess of dwarf grown mushrooms.  Mayhaps phantoms done finally got the dwarfs.”

“Dwarfs, aye” said Ki-yo-te, having not met any dwarfs he did not know if their presence was good or bad.

Chapter 2

Nicked

Ki-yo-te furtively headed back to his coop to put the final touches on his escape. He had supplies, he had some money, and now, maybe, a destination.  At least the first leg of a life journey. 

As he moved through the back alleys of town he felt an unaccustomed nervousness.  Being a thief and a rogue were all well and good, but Ki-yo-te was not used to being actively hunted and he did not much like it.  He could almost feel the town closing in around him, and hear soft footsteps following behind as he walked but when he turned there was no one there.

After taking a circuitous route to throw off pursuit, Ki-yo-te arrived back at the coop.  He quickly slipped inside, anxious to get out of the open.  Too quickly perhaps because after he entered he heard a loud click that echoed throughout the coop.  The walls of the coop fell away showing that it had been replaced by a large cage.  From the nooks and crannies of the yard the guards from Pithwhithel Palace stepped out and walked up to the cage grinning.  The chief of them said the words that all rogues the world over have ever feared to hear:

 “You’re nicked.”  The guard held out his hands and Ki-yo-te passed over all his weapons, as it would be pointless to resist.

As the guards hoisted Ki-yo-te’s cage onto a small wagon, he could see his ‘friend’ Jin the cat was also there.  The guard captain was counting out coins and passed them over.

“I guess you meant the first cat quote after all, aye!” shouted Ki-yo-te, angry and hurt, as the wagon rolled off.  Ki-yo-te had many acquaintances, but few friends.  He had thought he could count Jin among them.

Jin the cat did not speak but as the wagon rolled around a corner Ki-yo-te could swear she winked.

The Ki-yo-te, still in the cage due to his escape skills, was dragged before the throne of the Lord Pamplamoose Pithwhithle.  The throne was built, oddly, of glazed bricks made of common mud.  From the throne the Lord glared down, his finely chiseled face looking both pleased and enraged at the same time.  

“Welcome, thief” he said in a deep full voice, and an old man beside him hit a gong.  The lord was wearing his ‘judgment’ outfit which was a long black robe and massive gray wig.

“Long ago the forefathers of our great town laid out the rules by which we each live our lives freely, though within reason.”  Ki-yo-te shuddered to realize he was going to get the whole ritual of the law and ‘legalese speech’.

“In ancient times our forefathers stopped in this place, where there was nothing, and being weary of adventure, the cleverest among them, Boulder One’toe slipped and fell.  It is said that when he spoke from the ground his words were ‘into what have I fallen?’

Ki-yo-te suspected that the language used by a man falling in the mud was most likely more colorful, but the lord droned on.

“The great Rupert looked at Boulder and spake, “Tis Mud, dear friend!”

“The most devout among them, the Dwarven priest, Thunderforge Brewersbane helped Bolder to his feet and saw the richness of the mud besmearing his cloth.  They then created a farm upon this land whose richness and fine barley attracted many, until a great town was born known as Tismud!  The first laws were laid down and as years wear away all things, the city itself slowly became the Smud we know and love today.” 

The Lord began to shout, “Thou has been a minor miscreant for some time, though only now have thy perfidies become more than a nuisance.  With the theft in my home, though, thy crimes have entered a new realm of misbehavior.  Theft is the worst of all crimes.  Theft of life, theft of property, theft of freedom.  Our law punishes such theft based on the severity of the crime.”

Ki-yo-te figured there was no need to respond and just stared as Lord Pithwhithle slowly regained control of himself.

“Thou have nothing to say?  No matter, there are few words that would move me to lenience or mercy.   Come now, beg for mercy and I may be moved to pity.  Or at least amused.  Either could be of benefit to you.”

The Ki-yo-te continued to stare at Lord Pithwhithle, which seemed to unsettle him quite a bit and then, finally, Ki-yo-te cleared his throat and said “I mean…Who needs a gold toilet seat?”

The Lord spat and examined Ki-yo-te’s sword “Bah!  Take him below.  A week or two in the dark may give me time to think of something that will bring about proper humility.  It is a dark day indeed that a member of the Buni doth sit in a dungeon.  I suspect the Mistress of the Temple would be shamed.”

The words stung, because they were most likely true.  She would be ashamed of what he was doing.  The guards dragged his cage off while he ruminated on those thoughts.  

Ki-yo-te was no stranger to dungeons, as he had been in a few since he left Cathuria.  Sometimes getting captured was the best way into a fortified structure after all.

This dungeon however, was particularly damp and odorific.  The guards, not to underestimate Ki-yo-te, dragged the entire cage down the stairs, and placed it in one of the many cells.  The Ki-yo-te paced around the small confines in the dark feeling for a weak spot.  Only the door to the cage had any give, but it was securely locked.  His burglar tools had been confiscated when he was captured and didn’t have any other gear hidden on him.

“Curses” said Ki-yo-te to no one in particular feeling betrayed and depressed “My kingdom for a lock pick.”

“Here” said Jin the cat, unveiling a lantern and handing a lock pick out to Ki-yo-te, both actions causing him to jump and bang his head on the top of the cage.

“Double curses” he said, holding his head and trying to glare at his betrayer at the same time.   “What are you doing here, aye?  Are you a guard now?  You wish to retrieve the knife from where you placed it in my back perhaps?”

Jin smiled a toothy cat smile which could mean anything from ‘were best friends’ to ‘I’m going to remove your skin’.  In the dark it mostly looked like teeth and eyes.  

“Guard?  Perish the thought.” she said carefully inserting the pick into the lock “I am breaking you out.”

Ki-yo-te was even more confused and angry “You are the one who put me here!  Now you break me out, aye!  I say ‘Shenanigans’ to you!  What is your game, hmm?”

“Don’t be dense Ki-yo-te” said Jin as she jimmied the lock with her picks “Everyone was looking for you to claim a reward.  Now they’ll stop.  Plus, Pithwhithle said he was going to leave you down here for weeks.  You can run a long way in weeks, and with you caught he’ll open the city gates back up.  I’m getting rewarded by him, the caravaneers guild and also the Smud Property Owners Association.  Lord Pithwhithle really is a pleasant human, as long as you don’t rob him.” the lock popped open with an oddly smug click.

Jin passed over a bundle that had been sitting beside her “I grabbed your stuff too.  Lord Pithwhithel has good guards, but they aren’t that good.”

Ki-yo-te was abashed, very touched, and impressed simultaneously “I thunk you had betrayed me my friend and thought poor thoughts of you.  I apologize.”

“No need to apologize; we cats are gifted with the ability to truly not care what anyone thinks about us.’ replied Jin magnanimously “Now shut up and come on.”

Jin the cat led Ki-yo-te out of the cell and deeper into the dungeons past cells that contained bones, rats and mystery sludge.  Ki-yo-te wondered briefly why they would be going deeper but then it hit him.

“Is it a secret door!?”  Asked Ki-yo-te excitedly.  Everyone knew that dungeons always had a secret door “I love secret doors!  Does it come out in the kitchen?  I could use a sausage.”

“Not quite” replied Jin and approached a wall where a large runic symbol was sketched in chalk and gestured for Ki-yo-te to stand close.  Jin began to chant in Kittish (the soft language of cats) and placed her paws against the wall.  The runes began to glow with a silvery light then it wiggled in a way that was hard to look at.  Suddenly the whole wall flashed white and Ki-yo-te felt himself slurped up in a dizzying fashion.

When his senses returned, he was laying on green grass about a mile from the city.  Jin the cat was sitting nearby and breathing heavily as if she had lifted something heavy after which she flumped back into the deep grass and wallowed for a moment.

“I did not know you could do that,” said Ki-yo-te, impressed at the hidden skills of his friend.

Jin took a few deep breaths and replied “All cats can do it to some degree, but we prefer to keep it secret.  Most cats can’t take a passenger though.  Look there, I even arranged you a cover.” as she pointed to a small pull wagon with a full load of traveling supplies.

“For you.  I got a great reward for turning you in, so I set you up to travel.” she said as Ki-yo-te got up to examine the cart.

A small sign on the wagon had the acronym SPOA scribbled out and written under it the phrase ‘Story Teller’.

It hit Ki-yo-te then.  He was really leaving.  “Thank you my friend.  Story teller is a good cover.  I guess I need to learn some stories.” he said with genuine emotion. “Perhaps I will tell of my good friend Jin the Cat, aye?”

“P-Shaw.  Telling stories is just making up lies and getting paid for it.  Like politics.  You’ll do great. The question is where will you go?” asked Jin, pulling out a file and working on her claws seemingly completely unconcerned, but Ki-yo-te knew this one secret about cats.  The less concerned they seemed, the more emotionally invested they were.

Ki-yo-te shrugged “I do not know for sure.  I have heard of a place that interests me.  The Forbidden Forest.  You have heard of it maybe?”

Jin shuddered “I have heard of it, but only enough to avoid it.  Cat magic does not work there, so we stay away.  I don’t know why, but it would probably be safer to find another town.  You are made for cities and shadows my friend.  How can you rob a forest?”

The idea of the forest though had planted itself into Ki-yo-te’s head and grown to a full-fledged curiosity.  And few things were more enticing than an unfulfilled curiosity.