Saga of the Old City by Gary Gygax Read Free Book Online Page B

morning. During the night, a notice had been pinned to the front door by an assassin’s dagger. It read:
     
    THEOBALD, AND ALL THOSE SCABS FALSELY TRAINED BY HIM AND HIS DOGS, ARE RECOGNIZED AND HEREBY GIVEN DUE NOTICE THAT THEIR LIVES AND PROPERTY ARE FORFEIT TO THE WHIM AND EXECUTION OF THE THIEVES’ GUILD. BEGGARS, SEEK A NEW MASTER! ALL THOSE LOYAL TO THEOBALD, PREPARE TO DIE!
    ARENTOL
    GRAND GUILDMASTER OF THIEVES
    GREYHAWK AND ITS TERRITORIES
     
    No one thought it a joke.
    The beggars were immediately placed under a state of siege. It astonished Gord that Theobald managed to hold the loyalty of so many of the members of the Union. And it somewhat mystified him that there were persons around who were obviously something other than beggars. The hall swarmed with men in mail, robed clerics, black-garbed assassins, and even a handful of magic-users. The gross master of monstrosities must have thrown wide his coffer lids to pay for the likes of these, Gord mused. He was certain that there were few beggars plying their trade anywhere in the city. He would be willing to wager his small store of hoarded coins that none wore the wooden hand symbol of the Beggars’ Union around their necks if they did dare to appear. No more cash would flow into Theobald’s treasury until this matter was resolved, so the Beggarmaster had better have deep chests of coin for his hired swords and spell-casters.
    The Lord Mayor and Directors of the city were turning a blind eye to the whole thing. After all, it was taking place in Old City’s worst area, where the beggars lay between the Slum Quarter and the Thieves Quarter. Besides, who among the Directors would object to a war between beggars and thieves? Even the Guildmaster of Thieves, who was a Director of Greyhawk, would favor this conflict-it would weed out the less hardy and the less skillful in the ranks of the Guild, as well as get rid of a lot of the miserable beggars. The result would be a bigger share of the spoils of the city for each of the thieves who survived, and a correspondingly larger tithe to the Guild from each of them. For once, the Guildmaster of Thieves and the Guildmaster of Merchants were in total agreement on something. And every honest citizen would only see good in such a struggle. With fewer to beg, fewer to steal, they too could but profit. As Gord considered all this, he began to wonder if the officials of the city wouldn’t wait until both sides were deeply enmeshed and then smash them both….
    For the meantime, there was nothing to do but practice. The masters were in conferences and council meetings most of the time, leaving Gord alone to do as he wished. He took the opportunity to keep honing his skills, for he saw much benefit in the mastery of them. There was certainly a score to settle, but more importantly a livelihood to be earned. The easy life of thievery Gord had experienced was one that so far surpassed his dreams that no other goal had real significance.
    The end of this idyllic period came in a fortnight. Beggars not ensconced within the safety of Theobald’s walls were beginning to disappear, and some had been found dead-murdered in various ways. It was time to strike back, and Gord was to be part of the special force the Beggarmaster was sending forth to counter what the thieves were doing. The fat lord of the lowly understood that he must somehow settle this matter quickly. A protracted conflict could have only one end.
    Theobald opened the deepest recesses of his headquarters. There was a hidden sub-basement beneath the place, and from it passages led in all directions. There was egress to the sewers also, which meant that there was a low road to nearly everywhere. Mercenaries and beggars would form teams for the retributive strike. The specially trained forces of the Beggarmaster would disguise themselves as various ordinary citizens. Nearby would be the hired swords. When a thief was spotted, the beggar-scouts would finger the victim,