Are there gloves for your gloves? A quick search on the reception desk computer nets me nothing. I let out a sigh, my breath doesn't appear because the room is allegedly warm despite the fact that I'm constantly freezing. I wrap another scarf around my neck. It does little for the chills but no one can say that I'm not trying to fix the problem myself.

The other employees always give me worried looks. At least, I think they look worried. Some of these monsters make the same expression whether they're happy or angry. Have you ever tried to figure out what a Slime was feeling as you informed them that they'd have to pay an additional cleaning fee for leaving the entire room wet? It's not easy, let me tell you. But I guess that's why I'm considered one of the best.

Maybe that's why the other workers look at me that way. They might be afraid that I'll work them out of a job! Even the customers believe it. They laugh and say that I work an unholy amount. I believe it. This desk is manned by me, twenty-four hours, seven days a week. Of course, like any other hotel employee manning the front, I'll occasionally sneak away and try to take a power nap out back. Just laying down and closing my eyes for a bit is enough as of late.

Ah, its Mr. Rutt, and he's brought his family along. He's a Werewolf, and after seeing him a few times he's become my favorite customer. He always leaves me big tips. It has to do with the first time he met me. The guy was coming back drunk after a fight with his wife and tried to check in at the hotel to spend the night away. He was a bit angry at the time, and ended up venting his frustrations on the desk. The shock of seeing him maul the giant block of sturdy wood must have caused me to pass out. When I came to, Mr. Jeeves had arrived, scolding Mr. Rutt and asking me if I was okay.

Honestly, I was just worried I'd get fired for the property damage somehow. In this line of work the employees get blamed for everything. But Mr. Jeeves just gave the equivalent of an awkward smile for a lich and said he would be crazy to get rid of his best worker now. I ended up making amends with Mr. Rutt, though he's always quiet when stopping by, but hey, more money for me!

"Checking in with the family tonight, Mr. Rutt?" I ask with a smile. He wordlessly gives a short nod of his head, clutching one of his pups nearby. After typing some things into the system, I retrieve his door keys and slide them across the desk. "Enjoy your stay!"

He quietly nods again as he grabs the keys. One of the pups makes a sniffing noise. "You smell funny!" he said. Werewolf pups sound adorable!

I raised an eyebrow and tried to smell my armpit, but couldn't detect anything. Well, that was probably because I'm wearing three layers. I unzipped my coat and jacket and then tried to smell my body, but nothing seemed amiss. I shrugged. "I can't smell anything at all."

"I might need a second bag of holding," Peter muttered as his eyes scanned the room. Chests full of gold coins spanned the perimeter, their gaping mouths overflowing in excess onto the floor. He smiled. "To poor, or perhaps to rich, to keep the floor clean."

Peter quickly got to work. Using the bag like a bucket, he continuously dipped it inside the chests, scooping up giant swaths of coin with each pass. In a few minutes, he had managed to go through half the chests when his ears twitched.

"Damn," he quickened his pace as the distant sound of footsteps gradually grew closer. There were still a few chests left when he decided to abandon the remainder and tie the bag to his side and equip his dual knives.

The door exploded forwards, launching across the room and slamming into the wall behind him. A knight appeared within the frame. "Drop any weapons and hands above your head, Goldhands!" his stern voice ordered.

Peter chuckled at the sudden realization. "Will your voice ever give out from yelling, Allen?"

The knight looked at him, puzzled.

"Ah," Peter pulled the black hood obscuring his head back, revealing his face.

The knight's eyes widened. "Peter? You're... you're Goldhands?!" his voice shifted from confusion to anger. "Not only did you abandon the Order, but you also went and became a Thief as well?!" Allen pointed his blade towards Peter. "After all I taught you..."

"I do have to thank you. Were it not for your teachings, I may have mistakenly become a knight and played guard dog to the nobles for the remainder of my life."

Allen grimaced. "And this is an improvement? Stealing? And pray, tell, what are you planning to do with your ill-gotten gains?"

"This takes me back. You always were fond of trying to teach life lessons right before beating the crap out of me. Unfortunately for you, today it's your turn to learn."

Now saddled with years of experience fighting both monster and knight alike, Peter quickly defeated his former teacher. Allen lay on his knees looking up towards Peter, twin daggers crossed before his throat.

"Do it, then," Allen choked.

"Have you ever come across a dragon, Allen?"

"What?"

"I happened upon one on a quest some ten years ago. We were clearing out a cave said to be full of Goblins. Once we had dealt with them, I began to explore the cave, searching for any survivors. For some reason, the floor in one part felt thin. I remember stomping on it a bunch of times, only to fall through onto a ledge a few feet below overlooking a giant cavern. In the middle slept a dragon, sleeping upon its endless horde."

"You… do you owe a debt to that creature?"

"Not at all. It hadn't even bat an eye when I crashed through its ceiling, so deep in its slumber, and I as insignificant a presence as the Goblins which once danced above it. But at that moment, when I gazed upon the marvelous shining yellow sea, whose twinkle defied the logic of what should have been a dark cavern, I recalled the same teaching you brought up today."

Allen gulped as Peter brought his face closer, gritting his teeth. The sound of a few coins flying as Peter kicked his foot.

"That wealth were not evil, it was its use. I looked upon that greedy lizard's riches the same way I look upon the lord's stash you were defending today. And I tell you, neither man nor creature, can accumulate so much in one lifetime having committed only good."

Allen blinked a few times as Peter took a step back, removing the daggers placed against his throat. As his gaze traced Peter stepping next to him, he felt his arm briefly grace his shoulder, before letting go and stepping out through the broken entrance behind him. Turning to face the room, Allen winced and held the back of his hand to his eyes. Without the dark void of Peter's figure, the room was blinding.