I’ve never had a high opinion of those who take the property of others. But then I’ve also never infiltrated an enemy nation’s residence of power before, so fuck it. After the armory’s shopkeeper has locked up and headed home for the night and I’m thoroughly convinced that the coast is clear, I walk up to the tailor’s shop next door to it, give each end of the street one last glance for good measure, and then very casually and discreetly smash the window open with a brick and crawl inside.

  After miraculously not gutting myself while sliding in through the busted window, I drop down on the other side onto countless shards of broken glass that crunch under my boots in astonishingly loud fashion. The crunching continues as I stalk my way through the shop. Apparently, some tinkling souvenirs have embedded themselves into the soles of my boots. So all in all, my first foray into petty theft is off to a really great start.

  The suits in the tailor’s shop are kind of amazing. I see why everyone dresses so well in this country. It even smells good in this joint. But I’m getting distracted. Somewhere around here is a door to the armory.

  It takes a bit of searching, but I eventually discover that the door connecting the two shops is concealed behind a wardrobe. After shoving it out of the way about as noisily as I think I possibly could, I reach for the handle, and of course the fucking thing is locked.

  "...Shit."

  That unhoused son of a bitch didn’t say anything about the damn door being locked. I briefly consider searching the tailor’s shop for a key to open the door but then I realize I don’t want to do that and just start kicking the crap out of it instead. When this Patches guy comes at me I’ll just whip ol’ rusty out and give him a little shave.

  It takes about a half dozen kicks for the frame to break into splinters and the door to go flying open. As soon as I can see inside the armory, I run to the side and yank the sword off my back. I figure I’ll just lop the guy’s head off when he comes in to investigate. Easy Peasy. But then a full minute goes by and I’m still crouching in the corner of the tailor’s shop with this rusty-ass sword in my hands, waiting like a dumbass.

  I go ahead and peek around the corner. The only light in the armory is the small amount coming in through the windows. I can barely make out a few glimmering pieces of armor reflecting the light. They’re all stacked on shelves while the swords and other stabby things hang on the wall. I can tell without even walking in that this is quality stuff.

  I step sideways until I’m in front of the doorway and still no one comes charging out at me. Then I slowly walk forward. The armory’s front door is on the other side of a row of shelving so I have to go all the way in to find out what it is I’m dealing with exactly. It isn’t until I’m in the middle of the shop that I finally see Patches. The light from the window at the top of the door is shining directly onto him so I’m able to make him out perfectly. He’s got long pointed ears that stick straight up out of the side of his head with clawed feet and a pair of fangs that just barely stick out of his closed mouth. He’s got a bluish tint to him, and he's curled up in a ball on the floor with his chin resting on his paws and his eyes shut tight. Every second or so he lets out a grumbly little snore as his tiny body heaves up and down. He’s about a foot and a half tall, the same distance wide, and dammit if he isn’t the cutest little demonic thing I’ve ever seen. He even has his tongue just barely poking out of his mouth while he naps.

  Apparently this fucker’s a sound sleeper so I go ahead and ransack the place. I grab everything I can find and start strapping it to my body. The shinier, the better. And Patches just snores away like I’m not even there. Some guard dog. The most I see him do is yawn and reach a hind leg up to scratch at his big, pointy blue ear a couple times.

  I end up with a full suit of armor, two new swords, an axe, a crossbow, and enough bolts to take down half a battalion. I’ve got the armor attached, the weapons holstered, and I’m ready to walk back into the tailor’s shop to make my escape when I realize Patches isn’t in his spot. I squeak the visor open on my new helmet and twist my head all around. When I don’t see him right away, I go ahead and grab the axe off my back. I’m not taking any chances with this little shit. Cute or not, he’s some sort of monster and who the hell knows what he’s capable of.

  He isn’t in front of the door and I don't see him down any of the three rows of shelving. I duck my head to look under the shopkeeper’s bench and I still can’t find the little bastard. It isn’t until I give up searching and turn to head back into the tailor’s shop that I finally spot him. He’s standing right where I need to go, in the middle of the doorway to block my path. He’s got his tongue hanging out and a big drooly grin on his face. I watch him for a second and he watches me. I don’t know what’s going on in that tiny head of his but I'm sure the owner of the armory wouldn’t keep a creature like this around without good reason so I intend to keep my distance.

  I glare hard through my visor while the demon-thing lolls its tongue from one side to the other. And then I remember there’s another way out of this place and turn around to exit through the front door of the armory. But just as I clank my way over to it, the fucker hops right in front of me to block it. Still grinning, still with its tongue hanging out.

  I don’t know else what to do so I just head back toward the other door. And of course, so does Patches. He hops sort of like a frog and gets around fast. So then I sprint toward the armory’s front door and he jumps right back in front of me to block it.

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  Goddamnit, I've had enough.

  “Alright, get out of the way, Patches.”

  The demon just licks his lips and then shifts his weight to one side while scratching at his ear with a hind paw. "...Patches, I’m gonna cut you in half if you don’t get the fuck out of my way.” When he doesn’t move, I ka-clunk my armored shoulders up and down and then pull the axe way up over my head. There's just enough clearance between me and the ceiling to get a good downward swing. But before I can bring the thing down, Patches opens his mouth and—before I even know what’s happening—I’m completely engulfed in flames.

  “SHIT!!!”

  Good thing I put the armor on before I tangled with this little fire-breathing asshole. I’m able to turn and shield myself with my new gauntlet just in time to keep my face from melting off but I’m not sure if both my eyebrows survived.

  Without another thought, I turn and run back toward the tailor’s shop and there he is, ready to blast me a second time. Just as he’s opening his mouth, I leap out of the way and he ends up setting an entire wall of shelves on fire. That’s when I realize that the armor I’m wearing can only do so much to protect me if the entire place burns to the ground while I’m trapped inside.

  I’m not fucking around anymore. I use both hands to shove an entire row of shelves over to crush the little bastard but he just hops out of the way and takes another shot at me. But now I’m right next to the door that leads into the tailor’s shop and he’s all the way on the other side of the room. I take off through the open door, make my way through the shop as fast as I can, and then skid to a halt when the door I need to exit through bursts into flames.

  I whip my head around and see Patches smacking his lips back at the door to the armory. Then I scan all around until I find another door on the opposite wall. Without wasting another second, I go barreling toward it, full bore. Patches lights a rack of really nice waistcoats on fire as I throw myself against the door, breaking the hinges clean off and knocking it sideways with one thrust.

  Looks like I’m in a jeweler’s shop now, in the back room where the products are assembled. There’s a long workbench covered with tiny precision tools and a dozen or so jars filled with different kinds of metals. It’s an intricately arranged operation, everything neatly tucked away in its place. I press my shoulder against the workbench and use all my weight to turn it over and send it crashing down in front of the doorway. The jars all spill out and bits of metal cascade across the floor. Satisfied, I straighten up and start spinning around to find my way out, and see none other than that little shit, Patches, sniffing through the scraps of metal like a hound. His tail's wagging and he’s flicking the pieces around with his nose while he searches through the mess. It looks like he even slurps a couple of the pieces into his mouth as he scuttles about.

  This is as good a chance as I’m gonna get. I walk sideways toward the door that leads out of the workroom, but before I make it all the way out, a jar on a shelf that’s jutting out of the wall catches my eye. There’s just enough light from the fire next door to see that it has gold in it. Little nuggets of the stuff, filling about half the jar. I glance over at Patches to confirm that he’s still distracted on the floor and then walk over to snatch the jar off the shelf. I figure I’m already a criminal at this point, so what the hell. Anything worth doing is worth doing well.

  Then I run the fuck out of there, through the jeweler’s showroom, and out into the street where there’s now a swarm of activity at the burning building next door. Dozens of people are out, throwing buckets of water or just standing back to gawk. They’re so captivated by the blaze that not one of them sees the walking arsenal coming out of the jeweler’s shop next door with a big jar of gold in his hands. I take one look at the activity and then race toward the hitching rail where Gerard is waiting with his new friends.

  He gives me a little ‘welcome back’ whinny when I pop the lid off the jar and start pouring the contents out into his saddlebag. With the helmet on, all I can hear is my own ragged breathing as I shake the glass jar empty. Then as soon as I’ve tossed the jar aside, I strap the pouch shut, remove my helmet so I can actually see what I'm doing, and hear an all-too-familiar lip-smacking coming from the ground behind me. I instantly freeze with both hands suspended in the air.

  I can’t fucking believe this thing.

  I turn my head as slowly as is humanly possible. And then we both glare at each other. I’m sure Gerard could outrun this thing if he had to, but he’ll have to do it engulfed in flames if Patches decides to fire at us. I’m not sure what to do so I start by pulling my hand away from the saddlebag. And as soon as my arm is in motion, Patches barks at me. Or maybe he’s trying to roar, I don’t know, but it sounds like a bark so that’s what I’m calling it. I move my hand back toward the saddlebag and he starts wagging his tail and licking his lips again.

  And now I get it. That’s why he was sniffing through the bits of metal in the jeweler’s shop like some demonic little truffle hog.

  This fucker wants my gold.

  The distraction caused by the fire won’t last forever. Eventually someone’s gonna see what’s happening over here.

  I open the saddlebag and carefully pull two nuggets of gold out. Then I hold them out between my thumb and two fingers so Patches can see. He immediately barks and starts jumping up and down. And then I rear back and chuck the nuggets down the street like I'm trying to set a new shot-put record. Patches takes off like a chubby little cheetah while I run over to unhitch Gerard. As soon as the strap is free from the bridle, I secure the weapons and leap up into the saddle. And the moment I’m settled in, that shit-eating little fire breather leaps right off the ground and up onto my lap.

  “WHAT THE FUCK?!!”

  I throw both hands into the air and stare down at him. I still have my helmet off and at this range there’s no protecting myself if he decides to blast me. With no other options left, I slowly lower one arm and reach behind my back to grab another nugget of gold out of the saddlebag. Then I pull my arm forward, take a deep, calming breath, and get ready to hurl it down the street.

  But then I get a better idea.

  Instead of throwing it, I pop the gold nugget right into the little guy’s mouth, give the reins a whip, and then wrap my arm around him to hold him steady while we all ride off together, away from the blaze and toward Fornia's capital city, Fortun.