“Dear mother,

  I am finally starting my new life as a cook in the Berfast manor. After trying to find a good job for months, I was fortunately hired due to a high demand for cooks just recently. I’ll make you and my sisters proud mother. I’ve sent a part of my first wage attached to the letter.

  I hope to bring you all here soon.

  With love,

  Jeane”

  Rob

  Rob was currently nonchalantly sneaking glances at the nearby street filled with uppercrust shops. It was filled with perfumer shops, dress shops, makeup shops, and more. It was filled with the posh and unnecessary things that Rob despised most in this world.

  Him, Lodur, and Beelza were currently being accompanied by the old man, Number 1. Knives said that he could get them a carriage of their own to go to Burgees port and give them some gold to compensate for the effort.

  All they needed to do was to steal from the rich folk and give to the bandits. Rob was instantly sold at the idea of getting to steal stuff from rich bitches and screw them over while they were at it. Also Beelza begged them both to get a carriage of their own, saying ‘I might be able to fly, but you dolts can’t, so I need a stable way to travel and keep you guys far away from any flying ointment in the foreseeable future’. And honestly, he had to agree with the girl.

  Lodur also kept bugging him to say yes cause he’s never seen a rich person’s house and business before, and Rob wanted to teach Lodur the joys of fucking over the upperclass. He’s slowly teaching Lodur the joys of rebellion towards the more fortunate, which is pretty much Rob’s core philosophy.

  Soon his schemes of mentally corrupting Lodur and becoming the leader of a crime syndicate would bear fruit. Now he had a thrice cursed heretic with instakill abilities and a witch by his side, so he was practically there already. He just needed a bit of starting capital donated by passing rich folk who wouldn’t even feel their bags get lighter.

  If he could screw over rich people in pursuit of something, then he would gladly do it, only if it’s safe of course.

  Also Rob was scared of the old man named ‘Number 1’ and he didn’t want knives to set the old hound to hunt them.

  Olipas was a city of large place filled with merchants and mercenaries. It was a place surrounded by mountains and uninhabitable forests from both of it’s sides, but it had the benefit of having roads tasked with connecting the two halves of the continent. Because of this, it was filled with wealthy travelers, merchants, and politicians ripe with coinpurses and goods to pilfer. It sported a ridiculously low tax rate of a fourth of all profits, less than what most nobles take, which made many settlers want to stay in it’s walls. It was also headed by the city lord named Trisha Berfast, and if Rob heard the rumors, would make her a hot babe that men and women would turn their heads for.

  They were all staying in a moderately isolated area where some of the less savory nobility pass their carriages through. It had very few eyes directed to it and even fewer watchmen willing to stroll down it’s streets. It was filled with contraband and illegal goods. And if Rob learned anything from a life of crime, meant it had to be expensive.

  They were searching these carriages for any that the logo of the makeup boutiques on the east side of the city in order to get the damned things that Knives wanted in the new makeup box. Yeah, he had a list and everything, filled with descriptions and drawings of what particular shade works with his skin tone.

  They’ve been doing this in various locations for two days now, safe to say they pilfered a lot of loot in the mean time.

  “Ca-caw!” Beelza made bird sounds on the roof, a signal for a passing carriage.

  Rob focused and readied his rope. When the carriage came a bit nearer, he signaled for Lodur to transform it into a dead horse. Safe to say this spooked the other horses infront of the carriage, which suddenly brought then to a halt.

  “What’s going on out there?” A noble got out of the carriage door accompanied by two guards.

  Beelza then flew overhead and sprinkled sleeping powder on the driver, the horses, the guards, and the noble. They instantly fell unconscious just from a sniff of the weird pollen powder.

  Rob, Number 1, and Lodur were wearing pieces of cloths as facemasks and stormed the carriage. Rob started emptying the pockets of the noble guy first. He took the rings, necklaces, and anything shiny he could stuff in his sack.

  Everyone came down and raided the carriage and relieved it of all of it’s valuables. Bags and bags of perfume, makeup, pillows, underwear, basically anything they could rip out. Number 1 even got a new set of hair from the now bald noble. They took knives armors, belts and codpieces.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “Now for the next step, Lodur if you will.”

  Lodur took off his rat gloves and touched the clothing of the unconscious folk. In just a second they were now wrapped around a dead moose with their arms and head poking out. This made sure that they wouldn’t do any funny business if they ever woke up.

  And what do you know, they started waking up from their stupor.

  “Hmmm, why does it feel warm?” The guard woke up. “Gaah!”

  This was their cue to leave.

  “Escape maneuver!” Rob and everyone else grabbed the sacks and went down from a hole in the sewers, made by Lodur touching a brick and thinking of cows. Number 1 controlled planks of wood from a nearby house and made it levitate the other bags ensuring their maximum profit.

  And just like that, they made out with a small fortune worth of products.

  Hehe we’re gonna be so rich!

  Lodur

  After they came back with the loot, they came back to the hidden bandit camp to separate their loot into piles. Lodur has never seen such wealth in his life before, so much so that he felt an emotion he’s never fully understood until now, avarice.

  “That goes in the pile over there. Also Goon number 17 and 18, please carry these and exchange it for grain and cloth in the next town. Number 21, go help the witch carry the new clothes and paperwork. Divide it and set aside the good ones in my wardrobe.” He saw knives bark orders all day. Apparently Rob, Beelza, and him were honorary members of the bandit group ‘Swallowdive’ now. Lodur had to admit, the name was incredibly cool.

  Knives saw him and Rob and walked to their direction. He wore a black bodice with chains and spikes. He had a silver cloak that shimmered in the shade of an umbrella another person was holding up. “Lodur, you and your friends did an excellent job. So much so that I’m going to appoint you guys as the new regional managers for our base in Burgees port.” Knives beamed at them, showing a joy that heavily contrasted with his makeup.

  “Goon number 3!” A strange man came and presented them with a box. They opened it to reveal three handcrafted wooden badges that had numbers in them, numbers that neither of the two knew what it meant.

  “From this day onward, all three of you, Lodur, Rob, and Beelza, shall be known as Goon number 60, 61, and 62, respectively. You’ll have access to our transportation and spy network.” Knives clapped his hands before turning around in a flourish of his cape.

  “So wh-” Rob said as he was cut off.

  “We’ll talk about the details another time, preferably when I’m less busy. I’ll see you later Number 60 and 61.” With that knives stormed out to another part of the bandit settlement.

  Lodur and Rob were stunned at the news. He had tons of questions to ask, like what’s the squiggly lines in the badges and what’s for dinner?

  Both of them returned to what they were doing a while ago, which was rummaging through piles of stolen goods. Lodur was wearing his trusted rat gloves, which were honestly just dead rats stretched into the shape of a hand.

  “Psst, hey Rob, what’s a regional manager?” Lodur whispered to Rob.

  “Dunno, I think it means we’re some kind of generals. I won’t complain though. Gotta love the free loot we’re getting, especially the ones that knives let us keep,” Rob showed him his hand covered in gold rings. Knives gave it to him since, as per knives’ words, ‘gold looks terrible on me and wouldn’t match my style, have the thief boy take it instead’.

  While they were separating things into piles, his hand stumbles into something a big wheel shape. It was hard and yellow. It was strange to Lodur, it even had a seal on it with the shiny colors that nobles apparently like. Lodur didn’t like it though, it was too shiny and it hurt his eyes.

  “Hey Rob what’s this?” He held the wheel thing up.

  “That’s cheese, though from the look of it some kind of fancy cheese.” Rob said.

  “What’s cheese?” Lodur asked as he’s only ever heard descriptions of cheese before. Back when he was in the church he only ever ate horse feed and yams from the forest. On some special days they let him lick the plates for leftovers, a joyous occasion when he’s made to wash the dishes.

  “Here, have a taste. Rich people eat this stuff all the time.” Rob cut a piece and fed it to Lodur. Lodur’s eyes widened as chewed the soft cheese for the first time in his life. He felt ecstatic at the flavor.

  Is this what rich people eat all the time, cheese? I need more!

  Lodur drooled as he stared at the cheese wheel and pounced on all fours. He grabbed another cheese wheel from the pile with his mouth and started devouring it like a starving beast.

  “Whoah okay settle down. Well don’t eat all of it, I want some too!” Rob said trying to grab the wheel in his mouth. He was grabbing it like something a dog would bite and refuse to let go.

  “Grrrr!” Lodur turned feral at the sight of cheese, a new object that filled his heart with hunger.

  “C’mon Lodur, I want some cheese too!” Rob started pulling the wheel and bit down as hard as he could.

  Both were thinking the same thing and immediately started eating the cheese, while grabbing more chunks to push to their mouth.

  Beelza came running to their small cheese battlefield with a merry step.

  “Hey guys look!” Beelza held up three opened envelopes. She waved it around and did a little dance then giggled. “Eeeeehhihihi!, look at this!” She held it to the two boys’ faces.

  Rob and Lodur looked at eachother before staring blankly at Beelza, cheese still covering their faces.

  “Well?”

  “Well what?” Lodur said, tilting his head.

  “Well didn’t you read what it said?”

  The two boys gave a blank stare again.

  “Beelza we can’t read.” Rob said it as if it was just like describing the weather. Reading was for posh rich people and snobby nobles, so Rob was pretty happy never understanding what letters are. To him it was a useless code that meant absolutely nothing, a fad that would die down in a few years give or take.

  Beelza just pinched the bridge of her nose. “.....Right. Okay maybe after this I could teach you guys how to read and do math. I always forget you guys are illiterate.”

  “Illi-ill umm what does that word mean?” Lodur asked.

  “Sush Lodur, no learning!. We won’t fall for your typical witch propaganda, letters and numbers are for nerds anyway. It’s entirely useless in real life.” Rob folded his hands. He was a staunch skeptic when it came to reading. He hadn’t learned what letters meant for years and he’s not gonna start now.

  Beelza took a deep deep breath before exhaling even slower.

  “Look I was going to say that there would be a party filled with rich people a few days from now. I was thinking that maybe we could....lighten their baggage if you get what I mean. There’s bound to be some valuable stuff and food we could steal there, afterall nobles keep the best stuff for themselves.” She said waving her eyebrows.

  “Beelza that actually sounds like something very lucrative to our cause.” Rob rubbed his hands while grinning devilishly.

  “Food you say?” Lodur joined the other two in making devious faces. He wondered if he could find more of the cheese in the party.

  “Oh yeah, Knives told us to give you this.” Rob gave the box to Beelza. She opened it an saw three badges. “60, 61, and 62, apparently those are our new names that goes along with the new position we got in Burgeesport.”

  Rob and Lodur devoured the cheese.

  “What’s that?” Beelza pointed at the wheel between their maws.

  “Cheese” Lodur said, still swallowing the piece he bit off.

  “Could I have a bite?”

  “Sure.” Lodur gave out a piece of cheese covered in rat hair. Beelza frowned for a moment before pointing at a random direction.

  “Look I’m pointing at something!”

  “Where?” Lodur swerved his head in excitement.

  Beelza plucked a big piece from the pile and bit on it. Her eyes melted into pure bliss. It was as if she tasted the nectar of the gods. But her delight soon turned to hawk-like focus, then to panic at not having cheese in her mouth, then she descended to her feral predatory instincts for cheese.

  That night, three teens were seen battling like rabid animals on all fours for the prize of cheese. Many tried to stop them only to have a cow dropped on them, or made to fly using baby ointment, or stripped naked and hung upside down, but many more placed their bets on who would come on top. It was a night of revelry and carnage.

  To this day, no one knew who won the prized cheese wheel.