Emmaline sat in the back of a simple coach, the kind of thing a minor merchant might use until he could find something more ostenatious. The thieves had wisely chosen it as an escape which would not be interfered with after dark. A stone figure sat on the bench opposite her. The statue was remarkably lifelike and seemed to have been caught in a pose of trying to fight of someone who had grabbed him from behind. She lifted a leather satchel of the floor and carefully folded the leaves back, inside was a small bundled wrapped in ancient leather silk. Her body throbbed with gold lust as she unwrapped it, revealing a small gold disc about the size of a clenched fist. On closer inspection, the seal itself was made of some kind of hard stone but chiseled expertly with the hammer sigil of Magnus. It almost thrummed with a power that Emmaline couldn't quite identify and made her feel vaguely uncomfortable. The creak of the carriage caused her to start and glance up guiltily. Amal was emerging from the shadow, seeming to materialize from the shadows and climb up to take the reigns of the carriage. It was hard to believe that these seeming amateurs had pulled of the heist but Emmaline supposed that some ideas were just so audacious that no one though to defend against them.

The reigns shock and the carriage lurched into motion the horses whickering nervously at the unfamiliar driver's quirks. Now it was just a matter of riding out of town and then sending a message back to Albrecht that if he tried to collect his money his name would be given to the authorites. One of the horses neighed loudly and the coach shuddered to a stop. Emmaline hear Amal curse as she was jolted against the statue she has created.

"What..." she began but as she glanced out the window of the carriage she saw the problem. Armed men were emerging from the side alley. They were clad in bits of cast off leather armor and carried crossbows which they pointed at the carriage. Emmaline spun to see a similar group emerging from the alley opposite them, these ones carrying short pikes as well as the ranged weapons.

"Why haven't they shot?" Amal murmered and Emmaline glanced forward to see that the way forward was similarly blocked off.

"You are probably wondering why we haven't killed you?" a man, sensibly behind the screen of approaching toughs, called in a thick Tilean accent. Emmaline wondered if she could create a shield that would protect Amal long enough for him to drive the coach through the cordon of men. She rejected the notion almost immediately, even if she could keep Amal alive, the horses would almost certainly be hit and they wouldn't escape. So long as these people, whoever they were, wanted to talk she figured there was no harm in playing for time. Emmaline stuck her head out the window with an irritated look on her face.

"Among other things yes," she responded peevishly. They weren't city watch, not clad in the rags and cast offs they were wearing. Cultists of some type. The thought chilled her momentarily but she didn't get a wiff of Chaos from them.

"We need you to come with us... and bring the Seal if you would, yes yes we know all about it."

Emmaline and Amal exchanged looks and climbed out of the carriage.

___________________________

"Sorry to have invited you here under such circumstances," a jovial voice apologized in the darkness. The leather bag that had been pulled over Emmaline's head was removed and she found herself in a strange room. It was underground, that much was apparent from the field stone walls and the slight smell of damp in the air, but the walls were adorned with tapestries and the floor laid with tiles just like a grand ballroom. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, periouslsly low, lit with dozens of candles that gave the place an unpleasant warmth. The Tilean who had lead taken them from the carriage stood beside them as did the two guards who had lead them after the bags had been placed over their heads. The speaker however, was what drew immediate attention. A jolly looking man in late middle age, he was dressed in silks and sat atop a throne carved from old oak. Dozens of other disreptuable looking types lounged around drinking and playing dice, but they kept a respectful distance from the throne and its occupant.

"Sorry to have had to accept," Emmaline responded, earning a snicker from the enthroned man.

"I had heard you were a bold one Frauline Von Morganstern, and this must be Amal. I'm sorry your reputation proceeds you," he explained.

"Yours dosen't," Amal interuptted bluntly, "Who in the name of Allah are  you?" The man's grin widened.

"Amzaing that you are still alive, but as you are my guests, and I have not yet introduced myself, I am Jacob Felix," he told them with a mocking bow. Emmaline felt her heart skip a beat.

"Lucky Jack?" she demanded incredulously. The man was positively beaming now.

"See what I mean about reputations?" he asked Amal with a grin. Lucky Jack was the legendary head of the Altdorf thieves guild. Legend had it that not a single purse was cut, whore rented, or coin begged for that wasn't oaked by Jack. Emmaline composed herself with some effort.

"Ok, so you have a reputation," she conceeded, "What do you want with us." Jack sighed and looked appologetic.

"Under normal circumstances I would applaud your bold theft of the Seal of Magnus. Oh I'd want my cut, but I would applaud it," he explained. Emmaline folded her arms beneath her generous breasts.

"But these aren't normal circumstances?" she enquired. Jack nodded.

"Quite. A few months ago the Riekmarshall himself showed up at my house with a troop of knights. I thought I was for the high jump for sure, but it turns out he only wanted to talk." Emmaline shook her head, trying to picture the scene but unable to imagine the legendary Kurt Hellbore sitting down to talk with the head of the guild of theives.

"To make a long story short, I agreed that no major crime would occur in the next twelve moons, until after Acheron was defeated you see and I'm afraid you have put me in breech of my word by nabbing that seal." Emmaline frowned, trying to keep track of the many things wrong with what she had just been told.

"So what, you are going to take it from us? Kill us?" she demanded. Jack laughed, an honest and merry sound.

"Of course not my dear, I'm just going to ask you to put it back. Before anyone notices its gone."