Thieves' Justice

Tosti's hands shook as he tried to warm himself in the unnatural chill. The Floating City was never cold, never warm; it was kept always at optimal temperature by the city's anarchs. The chill, he knew, was shaped within his own soul."Today's the happiest day," thought Tosti, "of my life."He was lying, covered in vomit and other excretea, against one of the Floating City's sharp, domineering buildings. No one else was in the street.Out of nowhere, one githzerai approached, seemingly shaping himself from nothingness; then two; then three. Wrapped in shrouding disguises they were, so nothing of detail about them could be seen: not their faces, not their hands, not their eyes.Tosti tried to run, but in a flash one of the cloaked ones stood in his path."Stop," said the one. "Share some time with us, Tosti.""What do you want?" "The same thing you want, Tosti. To know the end of the illithid threat, the destruction of the False People. To know freedom reigning supreme.""What do you want with me?" Tosti clarified."'Me,' he says. So selfish. That won't do at all. So typical of you, Tosti."Tosti stared at them, fear etched in his eyes. "Why are you doing this?""Tosti, you wouldn't share.""What?""You wouldn't share, Tosti, you wouldn’t share the things you know. You've kept things, from us, from the People. From the King. That's no way for a githzerai to act.""We're all in this together," said another. "Most of the People would be happy to know freedom from the bondage of material things, from the tyranny of secrecy.""You're selfish," repeated the third. "Acquisitive. Limited. You don't think right."There was a pause, oozing dramatic effect."You think like we do."Tosti fought to keep his features impassive, like a proper githzerai would. He couldn't quite manage it. "You're Thieves' Justice," he said, caught in raw limbo between hilarity and terror. “The King’s Justice.”“We are,” said the first, its veiled face almost imperceptibly nodding.“Exactly what form of... justice... do you wish to share with me?”The cloaked figures moved closer, so very close. A proper githzerai, used to life in the constricted anarch-shaped cities, wouldn’t have minded, wouldn’t even have noticed. Tosti minded, and he sweated with the effort of remaining still.“We wish to recruit you, Tosti.”“What?” Of all the forms he thought “justice” might be shaped into...The closest Thief allowed himself to share a small, dry laugh. “The King’s Thieves do not come from the common ranks of the People. The Thieves’ Justice must think differently. We must outthink the People and foreigners alike. We must know deception and greed. We must know the limitations of those not raised in Limbo. We need People like you, Tosti.”A slightly shorter, slighter figure behind him shared her words, revealing herself as a female. “Are you in, Tosti? Will you truly know Justice? Would you help shape it?”Tosti suddenly knew his fear and hilarity to be one. He laughed out loud. “Yes! Yes, Zerthimon’s severed balls, why not?”