It’s hard to believe sometimes that we’ve only been on Farasi for a single year, yet it’s been one of the best years of our entire criminal careers, nevermind our lives. No longer did we worry about finding shelter out in the savanna or the desert, mugging armed travellers and guarded caravans, hopping from town to town to case them by day and rob them by night, or fleeing from the military forces that often policed those smaller inland towns. No longer did we have to juggle our heat with the Empire, the Zhaaneph, or the other smaller zebra factions that all claimed to be the true rulers of Zebrica. Here, we could simply ply our immoral craft in relative peace, away from the prying eyes and the intervention of the persistent Imperial Guard on one side, and the fanatical Zhaanephi Inquisitors on the other. Compared to them, dealing with Farasi’s criminal groups and the underfunded and corrupt local police was like dealing with yapping little puppies, as opposed to fully grown wolves out for blood.