Killers, Thieves and Liars is a piece of fiction from 100 Whispers and Rumors For Ironfire, The City of Steel!, one of the supplements for Cities of Sundara.

The Busted Cup was the sort of place that upright and upstanding citizens didn’t seek out. It was a low and crooked place that only those who wandered broken roads went to willingly, and even they usually left as soon as their shady affairs were in order. It was a place that stank of warm beer, burned grease and just a hint of blood.

It was not the sort of place that expected strangers. So when the outlander opened the door, all eyes were cast his way. Some peered at him from under their hoods, and others looked straight at him, but everyone watched him closely. As he closed the door and strode across the floor, a dozen hands slipped toward hidden hilts and holdout knives. No one bared so much as an inch of steel, though. The regulars at the cup were the best and brightest of the bottom of the barrel, and they hadn’t avoided exile or being clapped in irons by making rash decisions. Nevertheless, each of them let out a small sigh of relief when the young man walked past their table without so much as glancing their way. They didn’t take their hands off their weapons, though.

A pale man with a crescent moon scar around one eye sat with his back to the wall at a rear table. One hand, which was missing the last and ring fingers, rested on the scarred wooden tabletop. The other hand was below the table. As the outlander approached, the pale man favored him with a humorless smile, and raised his cloudy mug in a mocking salute.

“Does your uncle know you’re here?” Lemarden Three Fingers asked as he took a deep drink.

“He knows I’m in the city,” the young man said, pulling out a chair before spinning it around and straddling it. “He doesn’t know where I am at this particular moment. I told him I had business to attend, and that was enough for him.”

“Guess you really are grown up now, aren’t you?” Lemarden set his mug back down, and wiped his nose. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Are you just checking in with an old friend of the family?”

“If I recall right, one of those missing fingers is because of my uncle,” the young man said. Lemarden laughed, and waved his mangled hand.

“Water behind the stern,” Lemarden said, and though his mouth was smiling, his eyes were hard. “What is it, boy? You’ve been gone from this city for years, and now you come back just long enough to crack some skulls, and to wander over to the Red Orchid. Then you turn up here, with a look in your eye like you’ve got business on your mind.”

“Sharp as always,” the outlander said.

“Sharp enough to shave with,” Lemarden said. “Now answer my question.”

“I need a thief,” the young man said.

Lemarden’s grin was wide, and he gestured around the room with one hand as he laughed. “You have your pick right here. If their fingers were any lighter, they’d float right off their hands.”

“Light fingers isn’t all I need,” the young man said. Lemarden’s smile vanished as if it had never been, and he laid both his hands on the tabletop, fingers spread just wide enough to show they weren’t hiding anything.

“What else do you need?” he asked.

“Experienced,” the outlander said. “Particularly with booby traps. They shouldn’t be on any watch lists outside of Ironfire, and they should have good reason to want to leave this place.”

“And if they’re on watch lists within Ironfire?” Lemarden asked.

“I said experienced, and I meant it,” the young man said. “There’s only one way you get that in the thief’s trade.”

“Do you need them to be trustworthy?” Lemarden asked.

“I trust a thief to be who and what they are,” the outlander said. “I’m not looking for a virgin in a brothel.”

Lemarden leaned back in his seat, and weighed the young man with his gaze. He debated the proposition, and pursed his lips as he examined it from different angles. He took a long drink of his brew, and wiped foam off his lip. Two men got up from one of the other tables, and left the Busted Cup, both of them taking pains not to look toward what was happening at the rear of the tavern.

“I have someone who fits that description,” Lemarden said. “And I could provide you a letter of introduction. But what is it worth to you?”

The young outlander gave the old thief a smile Lemarden recognized. He’d first seen it on the man’s face when he’d still been a boy, and Lemarden had taught him how to cheat at cards. He reached into his jerkin, and took out a small, painted box with a shiny, brass lid. Lemarden’s eyes went wide.

“Do I want to know how you got that away from him?” the old thief asked.

“Just how you taught me to,” the outlander said, chuckling. “I walked right in and took it.”

Lemarden laughed at that, and shook his head. He reached for the box, but the young man held it out of his grasp. Instead, he offered his calloused right hand. “Do we have a bargain?”

“Yes,” Lemarden said, clasping the outlander’s wrist. The two men shook once, and then the outlander handed the thief the small box. He opened the latch with one grimy thumbnail, and peered inside. He nodded once, satisfied. “I’ll have the letter ready for you by this evening.”

“Within the hour,” the young man said. When Lemarden raised an eyebrow, the outlander shrugged.

“My uncle is going to notice that little box is gone sooner rather than later,” he said. “And I’d prefer to be beyond the city walls when he does.”

Lemarden laughed, and raised a hand toward the bar. Gloriana sauntered to their table, two fresh, frothy mugs on a wooden platter. The two men each took one of the drinks, and Lemarden favored the young man.

“Very well,” he said. “Have a drink with me, and then I’ll go introduce you to her personally.”