Pallasoldi. The crossroad of kingdoms. Center of commerce, of trade. While empires rise and fall, the city remains. For trade is the lifeblood of all who would rule, and Pallasoldi is its beating heart.Most nights in Pallasoldi were the same for Alda: dress in black, go to the nicer parts of town, and steal everything that's not nailed down. It's not the greatest life—she risks losing a hand to the law or her head to her murderous boss, Heron, if she screws up—but she's good at her job, has her own place, and even has a little bit of silver stashed away.But this night is different. Because whatever she stole has the whole city looking for her. They all want what she has and are willing to kill anybody and everybody to get it from her.And Alda doesn't even know what it is.

Pallasoldi. The crossroad of kingdoms. Center of commerce, of trade. While empires rise and fall, the city remains. For trade is the lifeblood of all who would rule, and Pallasoldi is its beating heart.Most nights in Pallasoldi were the same for Alda: dress in black, go to the nicer parts of town, and steal everything that's not nailed down. It's not the greatest life—she risks losing a hand to the law or her head to her murderous boss, Heron, if she screws up—but she's good at her job, has her own place, and even has a little bit of silver stashed away.But this night is different. Because whatever she stole has the whole city looking for her. They all want what she has and are willing to kill anybody and everybody to get it from her.And Alda doesn't even know what it is.