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The city of West Guile was thriving. After the Great Guild War between West Guile and the Seven Merchants of Mekiminor had ended, relative peace engulfed the land. The switching of kings had been the only problem recently, with a few riots breaking out here and there. Drakeus Fathemore, seventh Fathemore ruler in Neminekor, now sat on the throne.

During the final battle of the Great Guild War, Archememnon, the past King's captain of the guards and military establishments, was slain, along with most of the other guards. West Guile is without proper military security. It was during this relative compromise between peace and chaos that attracted the adventurers. And they came. Mages, warriors, rogues, and priests from all around came to West Guile to help, and search for adventure. Known as The Awakening, Good and Evil came to West Guile, and continued their everlasting battle. Still without proper military security, the king and his governor, Deminitie, were getting a bit desperate, as Evil began to accumulate within their city.

Beneath the city, the thieves were returning to their old deeds of mischief. A new lord of shadows had risen, a man by the name of Smole. Smole was not without competition however, as an even more mysterious figure, a figure by the name of only the Masked One, had appeared in the city. The Masked One's intentions were not obvious, but he seemed to have a lot of influence over local thieves. And with the appearance of a master assassin, one by the name of Aeneur the Knife, it was obvious that the Game of Thieves was once again in full swing.

But the real danger was soon to come. A danger no one expected, and most cannot see. A danger which needed to be stopped....

* * *

The grey robed man moved silently. The room was dark, save three small candles placed on an overturned crate. The armor-clad figure watched as the old man went through a purse of assorted magical trinkets. He pulled out a small amulet, with a deformed metal skull. He placed it over the armor-clad figure, whispering a magical incantation as he did so. " It is time," he whispered pointing into a dark corner. The armored one walked into the corner, disappearing into the darkness. "It is time."

* * *

Lothias ran for his life. The King of Cretal followed close behind. "Foolish bastard," he thought. The King actually trusted him. Lothias stopped in the middle of a filthy Cretallian street and glanced around. He motioned the King to a door with a black helm emblazoned upon it. "Quickly!" he yelled. "We must hide in here!" Lothias held the door, and the King entered the dark room. The room smelled of fish. The King of Cretal tried to peer into the darkness, and was met by several outstretched hands. Then everything went black...

* * *

West Guile continued its regular schedule. Life was as before. Nothing had happened until the day that it hit the news. Apparently, several spies had been sent through a teleport to the little known world of Cretal, which had recently threatened the King of West Guile. The news reported that the spies had successfully returned; and had kidnapped the Cretallian king, King Ronsard. Unfortunately, the spies had been in league with Smole, who had titled himself Lord of Thieves in West Guile. A hanging was organized within a week of the spies return to Neminekor.

The hanging was chaotic. Smole had led the ceremony, which began with the revealing of TWO kings--- Cretal's King Ronsard, and West Guile's own King Fathemore! Smole offered the two kings a peace treaty, which was signed. Unfortunately Cretallian spies were present, and total chaos erupted with a massive riot. A vile plague was unleashed, causing citizens to fall where they stood. The stage was burned to the ground, along with both Kings, and Smole.

A state of solemnity quickly fell over the city. A funeral was organized almost immediately.

* * *

The procession was long, and the mourning was great. Father Doofaes looked at the two coffins, laying side to side, one for each king. The high priest's beautiful ornamental robes flowed with color. A group of priests chanted a hymn.

The citizens hang their heads. An ominous silence falls over the crowd. Father Doofaes looks up suddenly to see a man walking through the crowd towards the front. The man, dressed in Grey Robes, like that of a beggar heads to Father Doofaes. The Priest gives him a dreaded look, scorning him for his disrespect. Without a word, the man hands Father Doofaes an envelope, then disappears around the corner.....

Father Doofaes opens the envelope, and finds a letter inscribed in fine lettering. It reads:

West Guile citizens, why mourn? Instead, rejoice at the rebirth. Organize a grand feast within the palace, two days from now.


Father Doofaes slips the letter within his robe. The ceremony continues, but he tells a few messengers to send word to people of importance...

* * *

The Great Feast was held, with the two kings revealed to be alive! It had all been a plot to get the pair to sign a peace treaty. King Ronsard went home, only to find his beautiful city in ruin, never to return again to Neminekor. The feast went well, until Smole, and his companion, Aenur the knife arrived, demanding payment for there services in Cretal. A battle broke out, with Smole and Aenur capturing Eldaron Halffist, a daring hero, once thief of West Guile

* * *

A few months later, everything has relatively returned to normal, but Eldaron still remains missing. A new gang of thugs has entered town, seemingly lead by thief Terrak, and ogre warrior Andrex. These two along with their guild seem to have their own plans for West Guile, and so they join the game of thieves. The Masked One has mysteriously disappeared, his mischief not being seen in a while...