“My pack!” I yelled as I turned to my robber, grabbing a hold of the strap before I completely lost it. I had a loose grip on it now, holding both the strap and staff. I knew I should’ve changed packs! I cursed.

A much smaller kid than me looked at me with a grin, yanked one last time on the pack, grabbed it, and started running. That little… I chased after the weasel at once.

I bumped into the gathering crowd left and right, following the small thief. My elbows might have connected with some soft parts. People started shouting at me. Once they saw my purple tan, they were grossed out even more. They ended up shoving others around them hoping that they would reach me like a domino effect. What a scary bunch.

The chase went on, with that lowly thief weaving through the crowd while I stumbled upon human boulders, getting further behind. I had to hand it to him. He sure knew how to run and how to lead a good chase using every advantage of his compact frame. I didn’t know what I would do when I caught the thieving runt, but I needed that dagger and feather.

I followed him as he ran uphill to the edge of the forest, panting and foaming from tiredness and anger. I was losing to the runt.

I needed to stop for a breath; I was in a terrible shape to start with. Even the thought of losing my pack and all my belongings couldn’t fuel me with energy I didn’t have.

As I started to fall behind, panting and bent over fighting not to wretch, I heard a shout of pain and surprise up ahead.

Must be the small thief. Serves him right, that little punk.

The wave of nausea ebbed as I walked in the direction of the struggle. Does that mean that somebody else caught the thief? Would that person give me back my pack or would they steal it themselves? Panic and anger made me push through the tiredness and I ran again, pushing as hard as I could to reach where the sound came from.

Turning the bend of the trail, I made a sudden stop. I almost keeled over because, right in front of me, was another orc.

I watched the creature with wide eyes and trembling lips, as it held my pack in the air with the boy attached to it, shaking them to get one loose from the other.

The boy bobbed up and down, hanging precariously onto the pack. This kid was desperate. Did he know it held a Malvao weapon? Was it worth his life?