prologue.
a thieves' ballad

The product of a wanton gaze,

Spurned from nobility.

With chestnut hair, lavender-black of eye

No finer thief than she.

Liberator of coin, hold purses tight

Thy shadows twist and throe.

For lurking in the undercroft

Peeled eyes would only know.

A street-made home begs of belief

Burdened mother's humanity.

Sweet rot betwixt maternal lungs

Forced hand bent supple knee.

To doorstep of Mossdreamer fled

Air muddied, sky torn grey.

The bargain of her shadow step

Was Fallon's hand to play.

Blackmail from rival brother was

Her father's boon to seek

And in quick haste she leant an ear

To uncle's tongue not meek.

'My brother's folly, a household loose

His bastard spawn abound.

The good and noble Mossdreamer name

Dragged cross the dirt and ground.'

'Call upon those lords and ladies

Whose good sense may entreat

To urge against Virric's head

Of household gone afleet.'

To father's side with hastened gait

The half-elf girl did streak.

Virric sought no pause of remedy

He uttered 'purge the meek'.

For in an instant she saw it then

The earth's wide open maw

To all the fears of Fallon's mind

Blade of Virric's men thus tore.

Mother's blood on youth bound hands

Made wet with viscous gore

In dim basement light among her kin

To vengeance Fallon swore.

Liberator of coin, hold purses tight

Thy shadows twist and throe.

For toil in spoils of chests puffed fat

A path of scorn ergo.