Roxas licked his lips, eyes narrowing as he carefully reached out and tapped the eye of the statue. It was a huge statue, the idol of some mythical deity. It had a vicious mouthful of teeth in the face of a gargoyle, but he found the appearance rather lackluster. And there was no hint of magic about it so he wasn't worried about it animating and tearing him limb from limb. That left mechanical traps.

Roxas paused in his tapping. The sound wasn't quite right. He carefully removed a tiny lockpick from his coat and tapped the gem again. Definitely not right. Swinging across the statue, he gripped its nose in a way that would have made any priest screaming about sacrilege. When he was on the other side he began his tapping on the second eye.

"Much better." He muttered, taking out a dagger and beginning the chore of prying free the stone. The black diamond finally came free with a pop and he watched it fall to the ground, unconcerned. The large gem would survive the fall easily. If it didn't, it wasn't a diamond and he didn't particularly care about its demise. Putting his dagger away, he slid down the statue and retrieved the stone.

Roxas was a thief. But he was not just any thief. He'd been trained from birth to be a shadow thief, one of the greatest thieves to ever live. The Guild had finally gotten a bit too arrogant and fallen foul of the Emperor, but plenty of the thieves and assassins had survived, scattered and working for themselves. Roxas was quite pleased with the outcome. He'd never liked his so-called superiors and the way he'd had to give them most of his earnings had been galling. Now he worked only for himself and although that carried some risks, it was far more satisfying. Right now he was raiding the Royal catacombs. There were rumours about this place but no solid information. To Roxas, that spelled big money. Also potentially a great deal of danger, but who cared about that?

He merged with the shadows, feeling the cool rush of darkness. The world became like a sepia painting, nothing but shades of grey. Yet his vision was vastly better than when he stood in the sunlight. He imagined this was how a cat felt, stalking its prey. Smiling to himself Roxas crept through the crypts. He was pausing to pry out a small emerald from a sarcophagus when he heard a sound. A muffled thumping? It was hard to be certain though. The catacombs were full of echoes. Slipping back into the shadows he began tracing the sound back to its source.

Oh argh. Roxas curled his lip in disgust at the sight of a rather chinless, scrawny nobleman humping away on a lush brunette. Either she was a champion actress or she was really enjoying it. He wasn't sure which prospect was more nauseating. Of course, Roxas knew he was a biased audience. He'd never had the least bit of interest in the games of man and maid. Briefly he considered poking the fellow in the buttocks with his dagger, but as he spotted the discarded clothes he had a much better idea.

The distracted couple didn't notice as things began quietly disappearing. Jeweled pins that had once held up glossy tresses were the first to go, followed by silver spurs set with flashing gems. Then a small money pouch, hidden cleverly in a belt. Roxas had to slit open the belt for that, but he was familiar with such things. Out of a sense of thoroughness he checked the maiden's clothing. He kneaded her fur hat and blinked in surprise as he found something crinkly in it. Slitting that open as well he extracted another leather pouch. It crinkled a bit under his fingers and he grimaced to himself, quickly hiding it away. Utterly satisfied, he slipped away from the rutting couple and began making his way out of the catacombs. They would probably be done soon, and they would notice the theft as soon as they tried to leave. Those jewelled pins would be particularly notable in their absence.

I wonder if this has something to do with the catacombs reputation? Roxas mused to himself. It was very easy to spread stories and people were horribly superstitious. It didn't matter to him though. Deciding to indulge himself, he stopped at a chop house on the way home and treated himself to a thick, juicy steak covered in fried mushrooms and a half-bottle of wine. Roxas pulled out the package from the woman's hat and curiously unfolded the contents as he ate.

What? Roxas blinked and just managed to catch a very large fire opal before it could hit the floor. Huh. A quick examination told him it was probably real and very good quality. Pocketing the gem, he looked through the papers as he ate a piece of meat. It was good and rare, just the way he liked it. Ew, love letters. Roxas grimaced to himself and considered burning them on the candle at his table. Then he shook his head and pocketed them. They were written on only one side and the paper was good. He could always use them for shopping lists. Finishing his meal he ordered a cup of fancy tea, sipping thoughtfully and listening to the minstrel in the corner as he tried to tally up his earnings of the day. His lips curved in a dreamy smile as he contemplated the totals.

He wouldn't know for certain until he got everything to a fence, but it had been a very good day.

"What a swell little thing." Roxas' eyes narrowed as he watched Silly Billy fiddle with the fire opal. Billy was not his favourite person in the world. The fence looked a lot like a weasel… the kind of weasel other weasels distrusted. Roxas was always very careful to make sure he didn't get any chance to substitute the gems for fakes and try to claim Roxas had stolen something worthless or flawed. Billy flashed him a quick, nervous grin and Roxas longed to knock his crooked teeth down his throat. But he was a good fence in spite of it all, so he waited with an air of strained patience. "We'll have to cut her down of course. A bit too noticeable this size."

"Of course." Roxas agreed, although he didn't believe any such thing. Fire opals weren't the most expensive gems out there and they could come in large sizes. This one was unusual, but not remarkably so. This was a ploy to pay him less. "How much?" He didn't really want to spend more time in Billy's presence than he had to. The man smelled like onions and old, rancid sausage. The fence named a figure that was unpleasantly low and Roxas gritted his teeth. "Not hardly!" He snarled back before naming a figure that was three times what Billy wanted. The fence yelped like a scalded cat and Roxas smiled to himself. His offer had clearly been just right.

It took a bit of wrangling and a few threats of bodily injury, but the price finally reached a decent compromise. Billy was grumbling as he counted out the coins and Roxas made sure to count them himself, then test them with a measure to make sure the fence wasn't shorting him. Billy watched him with a long-suffering look on his face.

"Have I ever given you short measure before?" He demanded and Roxas shook his head.

"No. Because I always check." He replied bluntly before scooping up the coins and the little metal bars. "Thanks Billy." He made it as insincere as possible, just to annoy the fence. But Silly Billy was already prying a stone out of a pin and didn't acknowledge the words at all. Roxas beat a hasty retreat and whistled to himself as he went to a bathhouse. It was time to give himself a little treat. As he swam in the warm, slightly soapy water Roxas considered his next target. He didn't believe in taking breaks. That was for lesser thieves, who stole just enough to get themselves wine and food. Roxas had much bigger plans for his life.

It would take a while, but someday his dream of opening a chocolate shop would be a reality.

Roxas was skulking. Well, not really. In actual fact, he was loitering. It was a nice sunny day and he'd decided to take a day off from his endless search for coin. Dedication was one thing, but being too focused could lead you to missing danger signs. A quick jaunt around his neighbourhood showed him that everyone was still regarding him with fond tolerance.

Roxas did not live in the slums. He could have and it would have saved him a lot of money, but then he would have to worry about guard roundups, arson and footpads. His skill with knives and shadows could have dealt with that, but the constables came down hard on fatalities and Roxas had never been very good at leaving people alive. Instead, he was using a false identity as the shiftless scion of a shipping magnet, exiled away on an allowance. It was a very good false identity. The shipping magnet in question actually existed, but very far away, and he had a son who wandered about on an allowance. They even looked alike and Roxas congratulated himself on managing to find the cover. It had taken some serious work with an excellent forger.

So instead of the slums, he lived in a modest lower-class neighbourhood. Full of working poor, it was a very respectable sort of place. Roxas paused to buy an apple from a cart and smiled at the seller, wondering how he would have reacted if he'd known his customer was a master thief.

After taking a measure of his home turf, Roxas slouched off in an aimless walk. It was really a fine day. He stopped to purchase a cup of flavoured ice, a true delicacy in the heat. Chewing on the ice, he gradually made his way into the bad part of town. It was safe enough during daylight and many people from the respectable parts visited the pawnshops and stores for all sorts of things. Roxas paused at a display of daggers, looking them over with a critical eye. Wretched pot metal, unbalanced and dull. He sniffed in professional derision before moving on.

A filthy street urchin dodged past him and Roxas cursed him as he was jostled. The curse was theatrical, but the jostle wasn't and no passerby would have been aware that Roxas was now holding a piece of paper, pressed into his palm. He didn't make the amateur mistake of reading it immediately. Instead he paused to buy a small skewer of mystery meat and held his palm so he could read the message as he chewed.

Bad news. Meet me at the Jackal. - Billy Roxas swallowed his meat and pocketed the paper, wondering what the bad news could be. Was the gem an ingenious fake? If so Billy was going to have to prove it. He'd accepted it as good and Roxas wasn't giving his money back without one hell of a fight. Frowning to himself, he made his way to the Jackal.

The Jackal was a very private tavern, on the edge of the worst part of town. It was the kind of place where people conducted business in secluded booths, and Roxas wasn't surprised to find Billy in one of them. He was surprised to find Billy looking well roughed up.

"What happened to you? You look like you went a couple rounds with a bear." Roxas asked as he took a seat, pouring himself a glass of beer and taking a sniff then a careful sip. No drugs detected, he took a deep draught. Billy winced.

"Keep it down!" He hissed and Roxas cocked an eyebrow at him. "Why didn't you warn me that fire opal was hot? A noble bitch and her hired muscle beat me up!"

"Huh?" Roxas blinked, surprised. The fire opal was worth a bit but it wasn't a diamond. Most nobles would write off the loss with a sour expression. And how had anyone found Billy this quickly? Was she beating up every fence in town? "You didn't give her my name, did you?" Roxas' eyes narrowed dangerously as the seedy man fidgeted. "Billy!"

"Look, they were going to kill me! You can't blame me for this!" The fence pleaded and Roxas growled, his hand twitching towards the hilts of his daggers. "I had to warn you! You have to get out of town. There's something big going on."

"Gee, thanks Billy. You have any suggestions on how to do that?" Roxas asked sarcastically as he ran through his own mental options. The problem was, he didn't really know the countryside well. He might do better to go to ground in the city. But if they'd managed to find Billy the very next day after his theft, someone was determined. Billy leaned forward.

"Yeah, I do. Uh… look…" Billy fidgeted a bit more and Roxas gave him a hard stare. "You don't mind… fags, do you?"

"No, I put one in the fire every Christmas." Roxas said with a straight face and treasured Billy's complete incomprehension. "If you mean men who like men, no, I don't have a problem. Why?" It was an interesting question. Billy might have a good reason to ask… there were a lot of downsides to being an open fag. Roxas himself was plugged into the community, but kept it so far separate from his life as a thief that Billy had no idea. He kept it even more separate from his life as a respectable heir.

"There's this guy I know." Billy lowered his voice as Roxas lifted his eyebrows. "He's a fag. He was in training to be a Windrider, right? But he got caught when the constables busted a house. If he can't get you out of town no one can."

"Hmm." Roxas considered the idea for a moment. It was an excellent idea… provided Billy wasn't trying to double-cross him. "You telling me straight Billy? Not thinking about selling me to that noble bitch, are you?" The fence went pale at his quiet, dangerous tone. "Because if you are, you should know I'm hard to kill."

"I swear I'm not!" He was sweating now and Roxas thought the terror was genuine. "I know you're one of those freaky shadow assassins! I wouldn't dare! I just want to help you out for giving them your name man!" Roxas smiled to himself. He wasn't really trained as an assassin, but Billy didn't know that. Most of the fences thought he'd been an assassin and traded it for thievery after the organization was broken up. It was an impression he encouraged. Roxas regarded the fence for a moment and finally decided he was telling the truth.

"Okay, I believe you Billy. Now, this guy. What kind of a house was this? It wasn't kids, was it?" Roxas let an edge of hardness enter his tone. There were all kinds of whorehouses in the slums, including the flagrantly illegal ones that catered to pedophiles. But Billy shook his head.

"No, nuthin' like that. They'd have killed him if it had been that!" Roxas nodded to himself. While a powerful noble could escape with life if not reputation intact, a novice windrider probably wasn't a powerful noble. "It was just a house. Teenagers, young men, that sort of thing. This guy had a lover there. He tried to get him out and got caught instead. The windrider's kicked him out. I can send you to him if you're interested." Roxas considered it and made a quick decision.

"I'm interested. Where do I meet this guy?" Billy pulled out a grubby piece of paper and Roxas looked it over, grimacing at the complicated directions. "Alright Billy. If I live, I'll owe you one." It really had been good of Billy to give him warning, even if he'd done it to preserve his own hide from Roxas' vengeance. "Later." Roxas finished his beer and stood, smoothly sliding into the shadows on his way out of the bar.

The shadows were the safest place to be right now.

Roxas consulted the paper one last time before glaring at the tenement in front of him. Was this really the right place?

It seemed to be. Roxas sighed, putting the paper away before sneaking into the place. It was much harder than he would have thought, largely due to the cockroaches. They crunched nastily underfoot and his shadow walking didn't help him to avoid stepping on them. He kept a hand near his dagger, ignoring the stench of cabbage soup and burned bread that permeated the place. He'd never had to live in a place like this - his luck had never been this poor - but he'd travelled through many spots equally bad. Usually as quickly as possible with a backward shudder.

Reaching the correct room, Roxas rapped on the door with the handle of his dagger. There was a silence and he was about to rap again when the door opened.

"You would be Roxas?" The man in front of him asked, his voice soft and rusty with disuse. Roxas nodded, glancing him over. The failed windrider was a tall, lanky man with brilliant red hair. He wasn't particularly clean and smelled of old alcohol, but he seemed perfectly sober at the moment. His cheekbones were prominent and Roxas could see the telltale signs of someone who hadn't been eating much lately. It didn't particularly surprise him. A windrider's skills would be highly prized, but the underworld had plenty of prejudices against his kind. Roxas considered it pointlessly stupid since the same underworld ran the whorehouses that catered to it, but there it was. An open fag would have trouble finding work. "I'm Axel." He offered his hand and Roxas took it with an internal wince. But the palm was clean and warm, rough with sword calluses. "Welcome to my humble home." There was a hint of humor in bright green eyes and Roxas found himself smiling back. "I regret that I can't offer you much in the way of refreshment, but my circumstances have been rather sad of late."

"So I see." Roxas said dryly, glancing around the room. There wasn't much in it. Just a few old wine bottles, a nest of blankets and more roaches. There was also a very fine bow, arrows, and a plain but serviceable sword. Roxas glanced back at Axel and noted the quality of the leather armor he was wearing. It was as dirty as the rest of him, but beneath the grime he could see it was really quite fine, etched with runes of hardening. "Well, Axel, have you heard about my problem?" Roxas was sure Billy would have sent word and the redhead nodded.

"Billy said you could get us out of town. After that, I can get you as far as we need to go." Axel smiled briefly. "I'm an expert when it comes to living off the land. If you want, we can get started immediately." Roxas considered it a moment then nodded.

"Very well. Let's go." Taking Axel through the city would be annoying but Roxas was sure his aid would be priceless in the wilderness. Everything Roxas knew about trees and edible berries could be scrawled on one side of a plate, in big letters. Axel picked up his bow and quickly donned his sword. The quiver of arrows was slung over his back and they picked their way out of the flophouse. "I hope you don't mind sewers." Axel laughed and Roxas glanced at him, surprised by the harsh, grating edge to the sound.

"If you had asked that a few weeks ago, I'd have thought you were mad. But now… I can handle a sewer." Axel's smile had a bittersweet edge. "How the mighty have fallen." He said softly and Roxas pretended to ignore the comment. It clearly wasn't intended for him and it needed no explanation.

A roach hotel was a long way to fall from being one of the King's most elite guard.