A Heist of Dragons

"There weren't ALWAYS dragons in the valley," Correa defended to her friends and potential co-conspirators.

The seven of them were gathered around the only basement table of the Lucky Chimera Social Club. The idea for the heist belonged to Sephir, but Correa was determined to sell them on her plan to pull it off. Sephir contemplatively stroked his goatee and gill slots, still undecided, watching the reactions of everyone else around the circle.

Garren, who would have argued with any plan Correa had because Correa was the one that had it, took his predictable stance. "That's a nice way of saying we might not get rewarded for our trouble by becoming dragon chow. What happens if we get down the side of Overlook and there are dragons in the valley?"

Correa fixed her cold aqua eyes on the lion man as she replied. "Nothing worse than would happen to us if the guards caught us, except dragons don't make you wait in a moldy cell for days before they kill you."

Clover raised their slender hand in support. "I've been across that way before. No teeth marks or burn scars to show for it. The dragons aren't patrolling or standing guard down there. Sometimes they're there, sometimes they're not."

Garren shook his head, his mane of alternating dyed black, purple, and natural tan stripes fluttering. "But they might be hunting for their next meal. There's a reason that stretch is called No Man's Valley."

Correa pounced. "That's exactly what our pursuers will think too. We have a week to think about it, get used to the idea, and screw up our courage. Anyone pursuing us post-heist? They'll see the edge of Overlook and freeze up. No way they follow us down there."

So far the vote seemed to be three for her plan and two against. Correa needed Sephir or Tamar to weigh in to seal the deal. She could count on Clover and young Leo taking her side, just like she felt sure that Kraken would vote with her rival Garren. But reading the calculating face of the veteran merrow or predicting the wildling Tamar was uncertain at best for Correa.

Sephir must have arrived at the same political calculation. "Tamar, you've been awfully quiet today."

She shrugged, fiery red hair dancing with her shoulder movement. "It's dragons. I can definitely think of more boring ways to die. But what's the score again? Why is this particular caravan worth the risk?"

Sephir answered with the cool patience of someone used to herding cats with short attention spans. "The Holy Gift is annual tribute from the Church of Seiros to the Emperor as a reminder of who controls who. By legend, the gift includes a blessed diamond enchanted by the high priest that will keep the emperor in good health and stave off the effects of old age. By law, it also includes a chest of gems worth no less than ten percent of the church's annual income. My best estimate is that the ordinary diamonds alone are worth in excess of seven million crowns. The blessed diamond could be…" He paused, gulping at the air through his gills, "Difficult to fence, but could add another million crowns to the take."

Tamar whistled in her sing songy way. "Million plus crowns a piece plus a chance to screw those holy pricks. Bigger shares if Garren gets eaten by a dragon. I'm in."

Garren growled. "If a dragon shows up, I won't be the slowest runner. I can promise you that."

Kraken looked around nervously to make sure no one else in the room was eavesdropping, before trying to redeem things for Garren. "Why can't we just hit them here in the city? You said they usually stop for the night in Lambsden."

Sephir's glittering blue eyes turned to Correa. "Would you care to explain why that route is even more perilous than dragons?"

"Four reasons. One, they're expecting thieves to try something at night. Two, even if we got the loot, we'd have the city guard and the locked night gates to deal with. But I say even if because the real problems are the two magic users. Three, there is an Imperial mage that escorts the treasure and, four, a ranking priest of the church. Here in town, neutralizing either one would take all our talents… both at once would be near impossible. But ambush them out on the road when they're not expecting it…" Correa let her words hang.

"Mages are bad for business," Garren grumped.

Tamar still had a million crowns burning a hole in her pocket. "A few well placed tar bombs and they're out of the equation for at least five minutes, probably more like fifteen. We'll be long gone by then."

At this point Correa suspected Garren was being a curmudgeon just because it was her idea. "What about the other guards? Surely they have more defenses than the two magic users."

Sephir answered based on meticulous merrow intelligence. "From previous years, they'll travel in three rhino carriages. The front carriage will have a crossbowman riding next to the driver, with the Imperial mage inside. The chest is in the middle carriage with two or three monks to load and unload the treasure. The last carriage will have the priest and whatever companions they have travelling with them. I think Correa’s plan is doable, but we'll need all seven of us to execute it flawlessly."

Leo nervously threaded his fingers together. “Look, I know we can pull it off like Correa said… but should we? Stealing from the church just seems wrong.”

Tamar practically exploded. “Wrong? You want to know wrong? Where do you think the church gets all those diamonds to give away to the empire? They put those they deem unworthy to work in the mines to quote-unquote purify their souls. We’re just taking back a little bit of the profits for the unworthy workers.”

No one at the table, regardless of belief system, would challenge her on that. Everyone knew the wildlings were a favorite target for persecution by both the empire and the church. After a good pause for effect, Correa raised her mug. “For the unworthy workers!”

All of them, albeit Garren reluctantly, raised their mug as well. Clover toasted the loudest. “For the unworthy bastards about to get rich!”