The Baroness Bings awoke late that night to the sound of the manor’s great oak door being pried open amidst the howling winds and pouring rain. When she descended the stairs and entered the foyer, her brother-in-law was still straining to get the door shut. His cloak was dripping a pool of water at his feet as he pushed at the door with one hand, his other holding a small bundle close to his chest.

The gnome cursed as he strained, “Blasted door…these things look so much lighter when the Machines are moving them.”

“What mischief have you been about, Bilgo? I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t be entertaining those petty thieves any more.”

Bilgo Bings closed the door shut with a firm click before cradling the bundle gently, “I am sorry, Brenda, but our coffers have not been getting any bigger since Bringham passed, and the Guild promised to keep the coinlords away.”

“Well at least tell me what it is they had you steal this ti- oh my god...” She stared blankly at the open bundle in his arms, “It’s a baby… a human baby! You’ve really done it this time, Bilgo, what in the world were you thinking? What were they thinking?”

Bilgo shushed the Baroness softly, making sure not to wake the child, “I can only guess. They’d been drinking their spirits long before I arrived. Apparently they thought it’d be a great laugh.”

“You have to return it, we can’t be kidnappers.”

“It’s an orphan. Um… he’s an orphan.”

“Well we obviously can’t keep it… him.”

The Foyer sprung alive with the sound of stout knocking at the great oak doors. They both froze, staring at the door blankly. The bundle in Bilgo’s arms squirmed. The knocking grew more insistent, a string of curses erupting from the other side. With a great lurch the great door was forced open, revealing a stout, black-bearded gnome bearing a smug grin. Unlike Bilgo, he bore no water, instead a small Tenser’s Floating Disk floated over his head, warding off any rain.

The Baroness blanched.

Bilgo grimaced, “What wretched wind brings your foul stench to our door, Drek?”

Drek maintained his smirk, stepping into the foyer with a swagger and clicking his tongue, “Now, now, you should know better than to have such a festive party without inviting me.” His eyes drifted over the bundle in Bilgo’s arms, “And what’s this? Party favors just for me?” His hands trailed over the folds of cloth, revealing the child’s face again. “Oh? What’s this, a child?” Drek gives a malicious grin, “So how many weeks did they promise to make me leave you alone, three?”

“Be done with these games, Drek, everyone knows you have a spy planted in the local thieves guild.”

Drek’s grin turned into a winsome smile, “Oh, but whoever could he be? My, my, my, I don’t think you’ll ever kn-”

“It’s Marche.”

A curse escaped Drek’s lips, “Damn you, Bilgo, you think you’re so clever!”

“Nonsense, I just know how big a fool you are.”

“Never you mind. My time is valuable, so I’ll not waste it hearing you prattle on. The child- give it to me and I’ll double the reward. I’ll give you six week’s extension on your long overdue taxes.”

The Baroness Bings looked even more suspicious, if that was possible, “Hoping to be a father, now, Drek?”

Drek wrinkled his nose in disgust, “Nonsense. I could use a new stable-boy, and orphans work cheap.”

“He’s just an infant!”

“It’s a human, Baroness. The buggers practically sprout overnight.” Suddenly he grinned, stepping closer to the Baroness. “Of course, my original offer still stands, as always.” He began to trace his finger over her cheek, pretending not to see her wilt, “All you have to do is be my wife, Baroness, and all of this will go away forever.”

The Baroness gave a defiant glare, “Does that include you?”

Drek uttered another dark curse before storming towards the door. He gave one last look towards the bundle. “You’re obviously not going to keep the whelp. Give the little cretin to me, and you get six week’s extension.”

The Baroness maintained her defiant look, stepping to Bilgo to accept the bundle into her arms. “Not it, sir, but he. Consider your timing fortunate, your grace, for you can be the first to pay his respects to my son.

“His name is Bringham Bings, junior.”