Tommy the Thumb was elated after his last heist. It went seamlessly without a hitch. Four emeralds, two rubies, and a jewel encrusted dagger. The dagger might be hard to pawn off as is but the jewels pried out of it would catch a nice sum. After a fortnight laying low in the countryside, all that was left was small trek to the city of Farrow, a small stop at the Blue Pail for some dinner and he could chock down another successfully completed job for the guild.

Getting to the city near dusk, the city gates were left unguarded as always. Convenient for a thief to live during such safe times, he thought to himself. Entering the gate Tommy the Thumb glanced at the wanted wall, as was his custom. Never know who may turn up there, if it was one Tommy recognized it almost guaranteed the marked one would be found face down in the river not soon after. The Farrow Guild didn't take too well to failure. Only half looking as he passed by a faint familiarity struck him and caused him to stop in his tracks. A crude picture that didn't look much like him met his second glance, what did catch his attention was a drawing of a hand, a hand without a thumb. Tommy the Thumb brought his hand up to his face, the hand that was indeed missing a thumb.

Tommy the Thumb must have messed up. What did he miss? Who saw him? Was it a inner guild rivalry surfaced? Either way Tommy the Thumb must now dodge authority and his guild to get away safely.

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