The night was eerie, although when Arthur really thought about it he couldn't remember a night that wasn't.
Scuffling across the rough cobble Alleyway, Arthur tried his best to keep up with the others.
A task that he always found difficult as he hadn't eaten anything in days and the last time he drank was three days ago, when the well was unguarded by the gangs' thugs, who found pleasure in beating him whenever they could.
For that very reason he has learnt to sleep lightly and adapt to the shadows, something the overwheight gang leader, Tate, noticed once then started to use the 'runt', that they all thought of as a waste, for some good use.
From then on Arthur was expected to come on all the slinking jobs, as his small size aswell as his self-taught ability to blend into the shadows made him perfect for house thieving.
Tonight, was one such night. As the theiving party, lead by the boss himself this time, was on course to meet up with the neighbouring gang at a neutral zone.
The two leaders had planned something big, bigger than either of them had ever dared to do before. They wanted to steal from the Inquisitor's headquarters!
To Arthur, it seemed a great many of the others too, this was way too far.
The Inquisitors don't really bother with small crimes, like some lesser nobles' house being robbed or some workshop, because they were deemed as below them to deal with.
But they wouldn't think twice about killing you in cold blood if you even so much as entered within 2 meters of their view. That would be like some rat walking up to your feet from the sewers.
Sighing in resignation, Arthur finally caught the others as they had arrived at the warehouse.
Well to call the run down ramshackle of a warehouse that is maybe too far, but it was all that these small gangs could trust to be safe, away from prying ears. Walking into the crestfallen building they saw, already waiting, the other gang.
They called themselves the Billyboys, as their leader was named Billy who was an altogether too thin and wiry man in his late twenties.
His face was unsightly but then so were most of those present as they were either born that way or made so through starvation, abuse or some punishment a passing Inquisitor might have given them.
This was one reason Arthur was hated as he was relatively good looking even with his malnourishment, looking nothing short of a ghoul he was so thin and ashen.
The wiry man named billy turned his hooked nose towards them as his grey eyes seemed to take everything in, before sneering at our leader as his face registered mine.
"Got yourself a pretty boy have you tubby Hehe!" Billy shouted as he and his hangers on laughed at his joke.
"Can't see no other use for some scrawny bag of bones like that, might as well sell him to that old bitch Humphry and get some use outta him." He opined as if he had said the most obvious of things.
"Ha! Like you could see talent if it was crushing your face, like that cow I saw you with at Humphry's last week! He is one of my best slinks in the whole gang, hasn't been seen once hahaha!" My boss shouted back with a sneer while he laughed viciously as Billy's face went from red to purple with anger and shame.
He had secretly been spending time with one of Miss Humphry's girls. That in itself was common for most thugs and Nulls. The problem for Billy is she happened to be as big a house and ugly taboot so he couldn't tell anyone about her.
Unluckily for billy, Arthur was told to watch his every move so his boss could find some dirt on him to use. So much for that plan I guess as he just used the best piece to get back at him for his pretty boy joke earlier.
'These two...' was the only thought by Arthur. His boss may have complimented him, but it wasn't out of any care. He only did it to brag and get back at Bill. But all that did is paint a big red X on Arthur's back, Forcing him to keep a straight back as he tried to not appear so small.
He was used to the cutthroat stares he garnered from the now more wary other gang he received the same kind from his own gang ever since he became his boss's "best slink", his whole gang had hated him even more as the 'little runt' had become the boss's favourite just like that.
This useless and time-wasting battle of words, if the limited imagination and vocabulary of the two leaders could even be worthy of competing in such, finally ended as they moved on to the important topic at hand.
"My BEST slink, Artie, you, me and your best duffer are the only ones who will go into the HQ..." Tate was saying as Billy suddenly intervened.
"Wait why's that runt coming! Don't need no slink inside, need duffers who can talk the talk tubby!" he exclaimed as he was still not calm from his little secret being outed.
"Because screwface, he's lucky! Every job he's on always goes well! I ain't going in there without my luck!" Tate Hollered back, he had a vein pulsing on his forehead as billy had hit his sore spot again.
Billy just sneered at that but stayed quiet, most gangs were superstitious as they needed all the luck they could get as the lowest of the low.
The rest of the meeting went smoothly, smoothly for two bag of rocks for brains trying to work together and think of a good plan. As the first few rays of light broke through the slants in the wooden warehouse, the meeting finally concluded.
Tomorrow they would pick up the clothes from old bean to make themselves look more presentable and wash with some rags and whatever water they could scavenge from the well.
Then they would head to the headquarters and visit the provisions leader of the inquisitor headquarters and try to use the letter the gang had managed to find in a failing nobles house.
It was lucky really, Arthur found it on his slinking job, some old nobles house that was near falling had hoped that this caravan envoy could save their house form the edge and restore it back to its former glory.
Well now these two gangs were going to use it to steal his pay for guarding the caravans and run with the goods to some other town far away from the capital and become filthy rich!
Looking at the more stylish and even slightly cleaner clothing, that hadn't been completely stained by the dirty rain that fall from time-to-time, Arthur started to change into it.
As he was, he thought of the dirty rain and how rumours amongst the Nulls had spread that it was caused by the Factories that his Divine Grace made to create those flintlocks that nobles and merchants like to use alonside their fancy swords.
He also thought of the Inquisitors before shutting that thought down quick due to his paranoia of todays upcoming events.
Or, he thought, like those soldiers sent of to expand the Empire into the heathenistic territories that proclaim his Divine Grace to be a false God!
But if he is no God, then how has he lived for so many centuries? Arthur hurriedly clamped down on that dangerous thought as well as if the Inquisitors even got a whiff of that stray thought he'd be dead before he knew it.
Looking down Arthur saw that all he had left was his fading black coat, which he donned hurriedly whilst wishing he had a mirror so he could see himself and revel in his supposedly more gentlemanly appearance. However, the only person he knew who could afford such a thing was his boss and his was still only copper.
No Arthur had only ever seen his appearance in a reflection from a dirty puddle or the, barely any cleaner, well a scant few times and so didn't really know what he even looked like!
As he was done tweaking his affects, he moved through his quant room, one of only five that was private all the good it did as he got more beatings out of jealousy, and paced stealthily to a dark, shadowy corner where he sat and waited for the others.
Soon four of the gangs' thugs dressed in a shabby but cleaned uniform to represent as the guards of the caravan came hobbling in to take a seat amongst friends in the gang.
Arthur hadn't any of those as he had learnt long ago that in this world there was only yourself to worry about and others weren't your problem.
Supping on an ale that he had ordered from the bar, as the gang's hideout was fronted by a bar to explain the money books and all the faces as otherwise this was too many people in the same place, people with a record.
Soon he saw at long last his boss make his appearance. His boss' clothes were of the style the merchants usually wear, that being altogether too gaudy and tacky.
as it was lined with golden thread and maroon silk, the look fit the plump leader very well as his fat cheeks were reddened with pride and arrogance befitting a rich merchant.
As the 'guards' flocked to stand behind their leader, Arthur quietly slunk his way to standing just behind the boss and before the 'guards', which Arthur was happy to announce infuriated them to no end.
Letting a slight sly grin stretch the corner of his mouth Arthur kept pace with the mercantile seeming boss as he strode with the arrogant seeming purpose of those born higher.
As the walked the streets, Arthur couldn't help but fight an internal battle of greed and preservation as his two thoughts of sticking till the end and becoming filthy rich or turning tail and running, as anyone could see this was plain stupid.
These two thoughts kept battling it out for supremecy.
Finally, as they were turning the last corner, Arthur's features smoothed out as he decided that it was too late to back out now and besides who didn't want to be rich?
Thinking to this point Arthur let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding and looked up to see the administration HQ of the Inquisitors hone into view as it loomed over all other buildings within this entire area.
The building very much reminded Arthur of the Inquisitors themselves as it was tall, ostentatious, clinically clean and yet still seemed have some pervasive darkness.
It was like some evil that anything involving the inquisitors seemed to have clinging to it no matter how much the cleaned themselves or washed their hands of it, it was always there just… lurking.
Breaking away from his chilling thoughts, Arthur looked to others to see they too seemed affected by the massive monstrosity of a building in front of them as the no doubt thought over their heist once again only now seeing the true idiocy of it all.
Still too late now and all so best to keep moving forwards. And so, they did, albeit stilted and wooden for a few steps before falling back in line and acting like the stuck-up merchant, his trusty aid and his four guards.
As they came to the rendezvous point, they could see the Billyboys now also arriving as they too had been dolled up to pass of as possible gentlemen and their guards. The sight of the lanky, thin Billy in more suave clothes would be weird if it actually fit him.
Looking at his clown like appearance, as the arms were too short and were the trousers, Arthur couldn't even muster a chuckle as their lives were riding on that being seen as gentlemanly.
Holding back a groan Arthur resigned himself to this sorry excuse for a plan orchestrated by two men who had more chance at suddenly being ably to read than coming up with any truly brilliant ideas.
This was it, if it worked, which Arthur prayed to all the gods the heathens were rumoured to practise and not the Divine Grace himself as he probably wouldn't support him on robbing his own Inquisitors, then they would be incredibly rich but if it didn't...
well, they wouldn't have to worry about if it didn't as they wouldn't be capable of anything anymore. With this in mind they moved toward the entrance of the Inquisitor's Administration HQ slowly but steadily with thumping heartbeats.