Chapter 8: The Thief Campaign

Terrak, the Master, looked through the hazy air of the hideout. The acrid scent of charcoal smoke mingled with the sweat dripping freely from his assembled thieves. Indeed, the air in the attic remained always fetid, for even on a cool night such as this they dared not open any passage to the outside. So precarious was their position in the city, so firm was the Black Duke's grip on the populace, that any hint of their presence here would bring swift and brutal reprisal.

For the hundredth time, Terrak examined the members of his small band. They were brave men and women, and he trusted them all. They were bound to him not by any bonds of love—though he knew they respected him—but instead by a common, flaming hatred. He wondered, again, if such a ragged assemblage could actually be a threat to one as mighty as the Duke. But then he sighed, knowing they had no choice.

Straight across from him, Terrak saw Ardina, the weaver. The old woman practiced her trade skillfully during the day, and none suspected that her bottles of dye, or her carefully wrapped bundles of cloth, were used to smuggle the gains of the band around the city, and even to locations beyond the high wall. Even now the band gathered in the attic of her shop, since she had risked her cover and her life to provide them this temporary hideout.

Wistfully, Terrak remembered the guildhall, built with the profits of his long labors, and even the sweat of his own brow. The building had contained secret passages, hidden compartments, deadly traps, and easily defensible combat stations. But it had all gone up in smoke when the Black Duke's enforcers had attacked. Terrak's eyes misted as he thought of Serana, his beautiful, young Serana, calling to him with her last words before the flames had taken her, had taken so many of them.

But the Master Thief hardened his mind and his plans. Indeed, it had been those same precautions, the secret doors and the hidden compartments, that had allowed this small remnant of his band to escape. Now they gathered here, dry kindling awaiting the spark that would ignite the flames of their revenge.

Terrak turned to an old man beside him. "And so, Rorden, the Duke's treasury awaits us now?"

The man nodded his balding head. Terrak reminded himself that the man was not as old as he looked. The Duke, however, had seized Rorden's wife for use as a concubine many years earlier. By threatening her with death, the ruler had forced the talented Rorden to keep his books and provide him with information. Now, the Duke's threat to claim the man's daughter for a similar fate had finally driven Rorden to fight against his brutal lord.

"Indeed, Master." Rorden spread a piece of parchment on the floor. "You see here the layout of the Duke's mansion. I have marked the secret passage to the vault, though I could not gain the key to the lock. I am sorry, but the Duke keeps it on a key around his neck."

Terrak waved away the man's apology. Once they found the lock, he knew Xeno could open it. Indeed, the lockpicker even now instinctively flexed his fingers and licked his lips. Xeno, too, had lost his woman in the Duke's raid. Terrak knew he would perform with skill on this night.

"And the painting?" asked Terrak, carefully watching the other members of his band. He saw Rocko flex unconsciously, grasping the stump of his right arm with his left hand. Rocko had lost his hand as a mere boy, when the Duke's watchmen had caught him stealing bacon in the marketplace. Rocko was brave, but not terribly bright. He, of all of them, had expressed the most misgivings about the plan to steal the piece of art along with the Duke's treasury of gems.

"Remember, the Duke is ruled by his vanity above all else," Terrak reminded them, directing his measured stare at the unflinching Rocko. "That painting of himself, the work he paid thousands of gold pieces for that it may hang in his great hall, serves as a symbol of his vanity. It has left a bitter taste in the mouths of the entire city. Its theft will put a large dent in the Duke's armor of rulership!" (At least, I hope it will!), Terrak concluded silently.

"Now, the challenges," the Master Thief continued. He looked at Kyrin, to his left.

"I will have the wagon ready," the girl answered solemnly. She had been just old enough to understand her loss when her parents had died in the inferno of the guildhouse. Terrak knew that she spoke the truth.

"Here are the magic mouths." Terrak gestured at the parchment as Rorden nodded.

"My spell of silence will be ready," nodded another thief, a thin and wiry man of indeterminate age. Only the golden sheen of his blond hair suggested his true race. The half-elf was a skilled thief, but at times his talents as a magic-user were even more valuable to the band.

"These walls are oiled to prevent scaling," explained Rorden, gesturing around the periphery of the courtyard.

A snicker came from a young woman across the room, and Terrak allowed himself a slight smile of his own. The Black Duke would need more than slippery walls to stop Bria the acrobat and her grappling hook. "Just remember to drop a rope for the rest of us," reminded the Master.

"And finally, the guards,'' pointed Rorden. "They are commanded by Puroch, whose loyalty the Duke extorts by holding his family at knifepoint.''

"The family is now safe in hiding?" asked Terrak, looking at the old weaverwoman.

She nodded with a toothless grin. "Puroch will join us now."

Terrak looked again at his small, capable band. He knew them all, understood their strengths and their weaknesses. He would not betray them, and he knew they would not betray him.

"We cannot hope that the theft of a painting and a few gems will bring the power of this duke crashing down," he said softly. "But if, by this theft, we can force the entire city to see him for the madman he is—and his madness will be plain to all when he discovers the defaced painting hanging above the outer gate of his mansion!—we can do him great harm."

"And too, we can pave the road to our return. Soon, my loyal comrades, we will become the influential guild that we were once before!"

Elements of the Thief Campaign

The thief campaign resembles any other AD&D® game campaign in many respects: There must be a challenge for the PCs to face, the challenge must be balanced to the strength of the characters, and the rewards must be enjoyable enough to keep everyone having a good time—but not so abundant as to drastically inflate the finances of your campaign world.

But it is in the specifics of play that some of these campaign aspects can take on unique and entertaining features when applied to a campaign involving many thief characters.

This section explores some of these features, providing detail to DMs and also players.

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