In the Kingdom of Fraoshieval, several days’ walk from the capital:

  As the sun tipped past its apex, Nenda strode down a path, into the Shrouded Valley.

  In the distance, a collection of makeshift huts covered the center of the valley.

  The camp of outcasts. Finally.

  Nenda had asked around the village for a long time before someone had at last told her in which direction the Shrouded Valley lay.

  Once she had found out, she waited until there was no well meaning, meddling, villagers watching over her, and then she had left, going to find the thieves’ crew.

  Now, as she stepped closer, she readied herself for the fight that she knew was inevitable, if she was ever to pay back the debt that she owed.

  A man, sitting just in front of a hut on the outskirts of the makeshift town, noticed her and stood, grasping a club.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” He asked, drawing closer. “You should know that this place is off limits for anyone besides us.”

  She ignored the man and continued down the path as if she had not noticed him or his protests at all.

  His face darkened with anger, and he stepped close, threateningly. “I asked you a question. It isn’t polite to refuse to give an answer. Being impolite leads to getting your face bashed in.”

  She walked past him as if he did not exist, and, incensed, he swung the club at her head.

  She easily ducked under the blow, and, without breaking her stride, hit his face with a backfist, knocking him to the ground.

  Falling backwards, he dropped his club, completely stunned, and Nenda continued walking down the path into the village.

  Several people, who had been sitting around a fire, laughing, started to notice Nenda as she drew closer to them.

  “Hey! What are you-” one said, beginning to speak, but she cut off as she noticed the fallen guard.

  “Bastard!” The outlaw said, grabbing a sword. “You just had to trespass on our territory, and to make it worse, you attacked one of us!”

  The group stood, each member brandishing a weapon, but just as they were about to attack Nenda, they were stopped by a voice calling out.

  “Leave the intruder.” Said a man, slightly younger than Nenda, as he stepped out of a hut.

  A man with deep brown hair, and holding a staff, followed closely behind, watching Nenda with suspicion and hostility.

  More people gathered around at the sound of the commotion, and the group of criminals, standing behind the person who had commanded them, grew.

  “You. What are you here for?” He asked Nenda.

  “Actually, I’m here to take your role.” She replied.

  The bandits roared with laughter, viewing her claim with hilarity.

  The leader wiped tears from his eyes, and addressed Nenda, smiling. “You really think beating a simple watchman gives you the right to demand control of us? You’re certainly presumptuous.”

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  Nenda shrugged. “I was going to humble you as well.”

  The leader’s smile faded, and he turned to the group behind him.

  “One of you. Deal with her.” He said.

  A man, not that far past the threshold of adulthood, volunteered, and the leader stepped back to watch.

  The volunteer took a sword from the brown-haired man’s hands, and stepped forward to fight Nenda.

  He slashed at her, and she dodged sideways, hands held at her sides.

  The volunteer stabbed, slashed, and cut at Nenda, but she evaded every attack, until at last she grew tired of the pretense of a duel and hit the man with a single punch to the stomach.

  He collapsed, and the camp murmured.

  The leader’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. You want to lead us? Take my place? Then you beat my champion.” He said, and the dark-haired man behind him stepped forward, brandishing his stave.

  “For this to be proper, you will need room to fight.” The leader said, and he began walking out of the makeshift town.

  At the edge of the town, the leader stopped, and both the dark-haired man and Nenda walked past him into the open space of the valley.

  The group of bandits watched closely, and the leader waited until Nenda and her opponent were prepared.

  Once they were both ready to fight, he shouted, “Begin!” and the fighters started the duel.

  The champion attacked, swinging the staff at Nenda’s skull. She raised her blade, and the weapons clashed together.

  She disengaged the staff with a shove against it, and then punched at the dark-haired man with her free hand.

  He ducked, and Nenda slashed with a backhand at him.

  He deflected the strike, then swung the staff, this time at her leg.

  It hit a grazing blow, but he was not satisfied, and swung again at her arm.

  She dodged backwards, and he sprinted towards her, thrusting the staff at her stomach.

  Sidestepping, she brought her hand forward, and moved the staff past her body.

  The dark-haired man turned, swinging the staff at her side, and Nenda raised her hand, taking the harsh blow to her forearm. She winced, but had bought enough time to kick at his knee without a chance of missing, and the hit staggered him.

  She jumped toward him, slicing toward his shoulder, and he managed to put the staff in between his body and Nenda’s weapon, but the force caused him to step back to brace himself against the attack.

  He jumped backward to avoid her next slash, and she followed him, not allowing him respite.

  She drew back her sword, and moved as if to stab, but feinted and instead slashed at the staff as the dark-haired man tried to block.

  It flew out of his hands, and Nenda punched at his stomach.

  He dove to the side, and grabbed his staff again, raising it in her direction.

  A spirit, in the shape of a blueish-green serpent, appeared, and coiled around the champion.

  Finally… his ability. I knew from his first strike that he was too strong not to have one.

  She pointed her blade back at the champion, and drifting clouds began to cover the sun.

  The serpent rushed at Nenda, and she managed to ward it off with the flat of her blade, but the dark-haired man attacked only a moment later.

  She ducked under the blow, though to dodge the attack completely she had to retreat a step.

  The man and spirit attacked again, their combination beginning to drive Nenda backward, until the man grabbed hold of Nenda, and threw her upwards, where the spirit then collided with her.

  Launched backwards, Nenda dug her feet into the dirt, slowing her momentum.

  A fog rolled into the valley, unnaturally deep and full.

  The watching camp exclaimed as it enveloped them, completely obscuring their sight.

  The dark-haired man lost sight of Nenda in the fog, but, unfazed, the serpent glided towards her.

  Unfortunately for it, the serpent was much easier to deal with without the support of it’s user, and Nenda dealt it a solid blow.

  It retreated, hurt, and she ran forward, unaffected by the fog, and, taking advantage of the moment of vulnerability, punched the dark-haired man, landing a damaging hit before the serpent returned and hit her away again.

  The dark-haired man attacked again, swinging blindly at where the spirit had thrown Nenda.

  A brief scuffle was heard by the camp, and the fog cleared to reveal the outcome.

  Nenda held the champion down, sword to his throat, and the stave lay discarded a short distance away.

  The bandits stood there in awe, until the leader stepped forward.

  Nenda braced herself for another fight, but the leader dropped to his knees in subservience.

  “As promised… you are now our chief.”

  Nenda took her blade away from the dark-haired man’s neck, and she helped him up.

  “Now, first off…” She said.

  Turning to the leader, she berated him. “How stupid are you?”

  “I… what?” He asked, bemused.

  “Permanent settlements, with fire pits? In a place that every local knows about and could tell anyone about?”

  “I…”

  “And on top of that, you didn’t even take me seriously until I easily defeated a second one of your bandits. You are arrogant.”

  “You… You are right, chief.” He said, putting aside his ego.

  “Good. I expect humility from my second in command. But you will have to do better in the future.”

  “What? Second in command?” He asked, taken aback.

  She nodded, and he, surprised, took her hand.

  Standing, he stood there for a moment, as if lost, but then he turned to the camp, which was collectively holding their breath, and he spoke.

  “I present to you, our new chief! Strongest that there has ever been! She will lead us into greatness!”

  The camp, assured by his enthusiasm, cheered, and Nenda smiled as her new group praised her.

  I suppose even thieves dream of greatness. I’ll just have to keep giving it to them, make them want to be better.