Thieves and the Law

Geraldor slipped through the alley, his black cloak masking his progress through the filthy passage. Reassuring himself that he was not pursued, he stepped boldly onto the Golden Way. With a nervous gesture he smoothed his oily black hair and attempted to stroke his wispy mustache.

Sighing, Geraldor realized that any attempt to look like a gentleman was doomed to failure. He hoped his guildmaster's plan was intact.

And there before him was the Highgate! Geraldor's heart pounded as he examined the brawny men at arms, four in number, manning the post. As the only public route into the city's Golden Quarter—home of all the wealthiest merchants, most powerful lords, and influential ambassadors in all the land—the Highgate was usually guarded well.

But not tonight. Geraldor recognized the giant, hulking form of Morto, sergeant-at-arms of the city watch. As Geraldor had expected—nay, hoped—Morto commanded the detachment at the Highgate.

With a barely concealed nod of recognition, Geraldor stalked to the gate and stood impatiently as Morto made a pretense of examining his "pass." In reality, this crudely forged slip would fool no one with any capacity for comprehending script.

But Morto's reading ability was not the issue tonight. Instead, the guard's loyalty to the guildmaster was the force behind Morto's curt nod and his gesture ushering Geraldor through the Highgate. Geraldor fairly skipped through the great stone arch. He had entered the Golden Quarter!

Now his movements took on the shadowy aspect of the master thief at work. Though he remained alert, he knew that the major obstacle had been passed at the gate. The hefty bribes offered to Morto and his associates had paved the way to riches. It only remained for Geraldor to haul those riches away.

The wiry thief found the mansion that had been selected by the guildmaster. Family and servants all slept, and they had no dog. In a matter of minutes Geraldor had collected the lady's gems. He spent several more minutes seeking the strongbox, finally discovering it in a small, luxurious sitting room. He picked the lock and pulled out only the most valuable coinage, platinum and gold, before soundlessly slipping toward the exit.

In the house he saw magnificent silver candelabra, a huge and obviously enchanted sword, and other wonders. All of these he disdained as too bulky for his current mission. After all, Geraldor was a professional!

Scarcely suppressing an urge to whistle, Geraldor sauntered back along the Golden Way. He would pass through the Highgate again and immediately disappear into the clustered neighborhoods that crowded both banks of the muddy river.

He saw Morto at the guardpost and nodded casually, passing under the great stone arch again on his way out of the Golden Quarter. Only then did he notice something wrong: Morto stood mute, with his hands shackled before him.

At that same instant a heavy gauntlet fell upon Geraldor's shoulder and a massive arm propelled him into the stone wall of the gatehouse.

"What have we here?" growled an unfamiliar voice. Terrified, Geraldor saw that it issued from beneath the shiny cap of a watch captain.

"J-just going home, m-my lord!" he stammered, wriggling in a futile attempt to break away.

The captain laughed, having already found and discarded Geraldor's fake pass. The man's gloved hands continued to poke through Geraldor's clothes and pouches, retrieving object after object, often with a low chuckle.

"The lady Allorana's diadem, I see—perhaps she loaned it to you!" The captain roared with hilarity, joined by the guffaws of a full company of guardsmen that Geraldor now saw in the shadows.

Then the captain's voice lowered as his hand tightened around Geraldor's throat. "Now, thief, you will find out what the laws are in our town. And you will have time to learn them while you rot in gaol!"

From even before the time, thousands of years ago, when the Code of Hammurabi first defined the legal system of a body of government, and extending to the present day, societies have created procedures for defining personal possessions. An inherent part of this definition includes the penalties due those who violate these procedures. Odd as it may sound, thieves cannot exist without some kind of legal framework.

And from the time in any culture when personal possessions come into being, there have been those who seek to remove the possessions of others and make them their own. It is for players of characters who attempt this perilous exchange of wealth, and to their Dungeon Masters, that this tome is intended.

Of course, some thievery occurs under the guise of authority, and as such falls beyond the scope of this book. Tax collectors, for example, may steal from those who regard such claims as thievery. So do conquerors. But these are not AD&D® thieves. While they may approach the category of bandits, their "theft" demands more fighting skill and aggression than stealth.

By far the more common type of thievery, and the one that generally comes to mind when discussing the character type, is the furtive pilfering described in the incident above. Poor Geraldor has suffered the fate known to many of these wrongdoers as he is taken by the long arm of the law. But if that law did not exist, then Geraldor's task would become meaningless.

This point is one that should be well remembered by those who play thieves as well as those who run the campaigns. Regardless of how chaotic the setting, a structure at least vaguely approximating a legal system is necessary before the thief can really begin to ply his trade.

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