The Jones Chronicles

On a cold night, in a dark land, Jones wandered in search of cheep thrills and gold. His means were far less than honest, helping the elderly cross the roads, only to lift from them a few hundred coins. Upon this night, though, Jones was about to stumble upon something far more valuable...

A lone band of Gypsies had been spotted, and as Jones knew Gypsies meant two things. One, a good story, and two, easy money. Slinking toward the camp unnoticed he became anonymous among the few gathered about the fire, occasionally listening to anything useful to him, but mostly staying near the food stands, hugging the elderly blind women as a son would, and relieving them of what little change they had to offer. Soon however, he caught himself beholding a story from a man who had traveled from far away, something about a crystal of immense beauty and color so deep. Of course to a thief, jewels were always a source of income, but only when appraised for a decent amount of money. As for most gemstones, rubies were more or less common, but such a stone described was one that would bring a man great power and wealth. The word wealth injected a sense of adventure into Jones' mind. To find and pawn such a gem would insure his income to be unbridled among thieves... He now sought nothing but this gem.

Before the nomads left the town, Jones made it his intent to travel with them... and the best way to go with a gypsy is as a gypsy. Upon the night of departure, a man stumbled from the trodden path. Surmised to be a loner, Jones flashed a quick smirk, plunging his dagger ruthlessly into the vagabond's spine, an instant, quite painful death. Donning the robes of a gypsy, he slipped into the group, and was soon assimilated as another traveler on the road to Aina.

Aina was a rich land, where a man could buy what he wished, and pawn it for twice as much to the unknowing tourist, only to steal it back again. This was a place Jones knew well. Busy streets were not uncommon, and there, a thief will thrive. Even if caught by the midnight guardsmen, he could easily brand a nearby merchant, or beggar. However, the road to Aina was more treacherous... a band of powerful thieves, believed to be affiliated with the Broken Dagger Clan was always at work, holding up merchants and robbing them blind. Death came swift to those who did not have experience with a weapon, or some kind of canter to protect themselves. Being a thief, Jones knew the danger, and also knew where to look for signs of his "brethren."

About 2 days from the village, Jones began to wonder how much the stone would bring in, and was about to settle in a camouflaged position, when some angry snarls, and cursing arose him from his lusty dreams of wealth. In his absence the band of gypsies had quickly found trouble... Knowing that in battle he would blow his cover, Jones tried to lie low, but was soon confronted with what looked like a very strong gypsy. "Come help us fight! They cannot overtake us if we work together!" The man muttered in what seemed complete utter nonsense, and began to motion with his hands. A small cloud slowly formed, and launched from it a bolt of deadly lightning, striking down one of the bandits who was nearest to them.

"Well I um... ya see..." Stuttering for words would do him no good and Jones knew that. But the excitement of battle had awakened his instinct to flee and regroup, then attack from the behind. This was far from the gypsy's mind when he picked Jones up and told him to cast.

"I don't know any spells... I'm poorly trained!," in desperation he fumbled for a reasonable excuse, but none would do.

"Who are you? You're no gypsy!" accused the man, with conviction. Twirling his hands, the robe Jones was wearing flew up, and away... Now, totally exposed, sheer instinct flowed and took control. Jones unsheathed his dagger, and threw dirt into the eyes of the man, shortly after, circling behind him and stabbing hopelessly into his robes. Having utterly missed, he ducked behind a crate, avoided the groping attacks, and occasional untamed spell from the gypsy man. As more bandits arrived and stormed the camp, another idea struck Jones... "Here's a blind one!" he shouted, and one of the bandits, recognizing him as a thief (for only thieves know each other upon sight), shrugged, and ruthlessly cut into the flailing mass of robes and spell casting. Now, for the duration of the battle, he would limp toward Varin, a stop on the way to Aina, and regroup.

Upon arriving at Varin, a befuddled ogre man ordered him to show a pass... shrugging Jones inquired where he might get one.

Grumbling Jones made his way to a steep junction, where could see a small hidden door. Upon picking the lock he walked in to find the poison dealer. "Hey, got any new vials for me?"

Almost as if summoned by the horrid English of the poison dealer, The Dark Lord of all things evil, Seluctruh whispered into the ever listening ear of Jones "my assassin, you must bring for me the sliver of destiny... the Shard of the Darkstone." Being an ever-willing servant to darkness, Jones pondered. He left the shop without a word, and walked down to pass toward the guard. "aint ye git ne piss?"

Jones ignored him, and continued southwards, into the unknown mountains, looking for the Gypsy with the gem. Now the Dark Lord bade him to collect the Darkstone, and he knew why his interest was sparked from the story. For the goals of Seluctruh and Jones, though different in nature, were the same in spirit, and Jones then knew his so called gem, was in fact a shard of the Darkstone.

After setting a camp, Jones stopped, and lit a fire, halfway wondering what premonition he would chance upon next, and half wondering how he was to get the Shard. Never at all did he think of the massive power, that this treasure contained or the wealth... Now his Clan Deity had spoken, and it is only His will that overrides selfish wants. Jones plotted and schemed until sunrise, and as the lights of dawn came sneaking above the hill top, Jones unsheathed his dagger, and concealed his campsite as well as the best thief could, and then slept. Upon awakening, Jones found it to be afternoon, possibly near sunset. Packing his belongings, he made his way through the brambles, and thick woods, making sure to conceal any and all signs of his having passed through the area. Although the dense forest was thick, Jones knew that a little further south was the long plateau, and from there he would have to trek down and east to the city of Aina, where he would hold up for a few days, before inquiring about any valuable gems.

After stopping to rest, Jones noticed something quite unsettling... on the trail behind him, the Broken Dagger Clan thieves were dispersing into the woods below. Though miles off, he could tell who they, were... and why they had come. The guard at Varin had to have noticed his abrupt exit, and since The Dagger Clan controls the city, they no doubt gotten the report, and decided to investigate.

When thieves track thieves, things get tricky. On sight, a thief will recognize another thief, and both will steer clear of each other. And as a rule, thieves will not steal from another thief, unless times are hard. But when a thief tracks another thief, it is like a wolf after a hare. The hare must be quick, and the wolf must be quicker... a game of wits was about to begin. But this game could prove deadly for the thief being tracked.

In deliberate haste, Jones made no effort to conceal his presence, and then made off through the thick woods, overturning stones, and breaking branches, to make the illusion of a larger person; a person who would not need to conceal himself. Then he backtracked, as silently as he could, and removed a pitch-black cape from his belt pack. Grinning, he unfolded it, revealing bloodstains that seemingly ruined the soft texture.

This gift was received for deeds done long ago, but served it had him well, for it gave the illusion of invisibility, for a limited time. Jones slipped into the cloak, and vanished, and then, traveling twice as slow as normal, and as silent as a nymph through the trees, left no evidence of his presence was detected.

Then, as he turned to see that his would be captors had given up he turned back around, to find a grinning man in a black uniform. The man smirked, and as Jones' reflexes failed (an after effect of the cloak) the man was behind him, and all went dark in a stinging sensation of anger and pain.

Upon awakening, Jones found himself quite perplexed... He was somewhere near the plateau, but he could not tell where. He tried to struggle, but was bound to a rack... he turned, which he found to be a mistake, as a screaming pain in his back served as a grim reminder of what had happened. He glanced around, and found this shanty he was contained in to be quite small. The high winds cut through it like a hot knife through butter, and when Jones tried to swallow, he found that this place was as arid as he remembered it to be.

Some men came in, and Jones instinctively used his best abilities, given his state, to hide. "Hey where's that new slave?"

"He can't have gotten out... go outside and check the other cells. We cant have a renegade slave about"

Obviously, these men were not thieves. No, he had been taken to the slave lands, just south of Aina, where nobles shop for their servants. This was an uncanny stroke of luck, and Jones coughed, breaking the illusion of his absence.

"Yeah, but he had some nice equipment on him! We can get a lot of money for this stuff... lucky for us, the Broken Dagger didn't charge for the belt pack."

Jones now began to see why the Broken Dagger was so powerful. Controlling the slave population was like holding the lifeline to the noble class in your hands. "So that's what they do to those they don't kill on the road..." he thought. "Well... now I gotta get bought, and steal my stuff back"

The man walked over the rack Jones was bound to and smiled. "I hope you like to shovel manure, because I just spoke with a man from the stables, and they could use a good slave."

Jones only replied, "I'll shovel you! And don't use any of that equipment you got offa me!"

Jones was promptly smacked, and hoped the trick had worked, although his jaw was unhappy with the cost such a scheme. "I'll wear whatever I want to you little," replied the man in disgust as he thumbed through the gear. Finally he settled upon the black cape, at which point Jones yelled, "No! Don't use that! You can't know my secret!"

Smirking, the man went ahead and put on the cloak, immediately vanishing. In the confusion of having disappeared, he bumbled about the room, and knocked over chairs. In this confusion, Jones had succeeded in picking the lock on the rack, and freeing one hand, which he dexterously used to nimbly lift the cloak from the man, but not before taking his belt pack, and fastening it under his clothing to conceal it. The cloak, was left on the table.

"What kinda crazy... You stupid little!" An unwilling Jones received another blow to the jaw, and the man got up and looked at the shack, which was in shambles from his thrashing. "Where'd that belt pack go?" said the man, but he stopped looking and grabbed the cloak, and spit on it.

Jones reluctantly tucked the cloak under his shirt, and sighed. From outside a voice called. "Ah nutz, well I'm find that pack later, you my friend are off to Varin..." Those words worked into Jones' brain and sunk in. He couldn't take a free ride back now...

Using his free hand, Jones worked on the other lock, and eventually freed his other hand, while the men were outside negotiating. Jones went to jump, and grimaced in pain, as his wounded back became agitated, sending shards of piercing ice into his limbs. Slowly hopping off the rack, Jones snuck outside, and slipped into a cage with some other slaves. Upon the cage it read Aina, and Jones observed the crowd to make himself a convincing member.

As the men realized that the one they thought they had caught was gone, Jones could here him saying, "Don't worry, we've got a prime sel"

"uctruh," Jones muttered and looked at the ragged bunch of slave people. A haggard old man approached him, speaking of the time before the earth.

"And from this void, cam the great Gods Tarin, and Seluctruh," and instantly, Jones was in another place. A shadowy figure came before him, and as it formed, it took on the appearance of a handsome, pale skinned man. His figure was still blurry, and Jones knew that this was his Lord, Seluctruh.

Instead of kneeling, Jones simply bowed, and then smiled. "What evil would you have me do for you my Master?"

"I must find and assemble the Darkstone... for only then will my power be absolute, and evil flow into the land like bloody from an open wound," Seluctruh boomed.

"I implore the help of many. Yours is mine to take. Find me the shard, and you shall find many great rewards..." And with his last words, Jones found himself once again in the cage, being carted off to Aina. His story from there has yet to be recovered.

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