It's yet another dark night amidst the streets of lower class London England where suffering and poverty are king and diseases are the almighty victors. Unlike the rest of those populating the foul stench of a world around you, you're different. Your work involves a little more skill than the average denizen and requires a person keenly adept and responsive to the environment around them. A professional thief by nature, you sit kneeling on the edge of a high rooftop assessing the best rout to take in order to reach your goal.

Slowly arising from your perch your ears catch a glimpse of what appears to be several guards heading across the roofs strait for you. Guessing they have seen your shiny armour glint from the reflection of a streetlight, you swiftly take action. There's not enough time to run and taking on so many guards at once is suicide, yet you have to act and you have to do so quickly. As they near you draw your bow and aim a water arrow directly at the fiery light illuminating the roof where you stand. Moments later the fire is extinguished and a Vail of darkness casts itself upon you.

Seizing the moment you back tightly up against the darkest wall and silently draw your baton. As the guards approach they cautiously slow and look steadily around before seeing nothing and moving off, yet one stays covering the only way off the roof. Grasping your baton you sneak up behind him and thrust the wood firm and furiously against his head, he drops to the ground with a thud and you carry on over the roofs, nobody even knowing you were ever there. Such is the daily work of a thief, a professional thief.

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