Robber Outfit Novels & Stories

He nudged his head to the guards and they were on me again, they grabbed my arms and I didn’t bother fighting. A figure was waiting at the hall, blond hair rolled in a messy bun that somehow complemented his high cheekbones that looked like they had never worn a smile before. His dressing was different, a little armored but expensive. Even with all the gold Alpha Kanes took from others, he never did care about the pack guards. And I realized he was the man I would be sold to. He wasn't the rogue Alpha, because the rumors had mentioned his eyes to be dark and lifeless.

the cautious one tried persuading them. “Get lost and stop behaving like a weak fool,” the one who appeared to be their leader berated. “Don’t get envious later over our spoils,” he sneered. “Guys, don’t dirty his robe.” “I need it clean for myself.” The others laughed. One of the rogues stepped forward and approached me. “Take off the robe and hand over your pouch and everything you have.” “We might let you live.” His voice was filled with arrogance and disdain.

"That's my own card! The money in there is mine!" Ryan finally looked up, irritation plain on his furrowed face. "There's no 'yours and mine' here! Mom, we're family! My money is your money, and your money is naturally our family's money too! "You won't need that much at the nursing home anyway. What's wrong with letting us borrow it for a while?" I stood my ground. "But it's my money. If you asked me for part of it, I wouldn't complain. But you can't just take all of it!"

"You could become successful. You could make money. You could climb very high. But you would not become me." Tears filled her eyes. "Because I do not have your family?" "Because I do not use other people's generosity as a ladder, and I do not call stolen things fairness." A few months later, I saw her again in Brooklyn. She was behind the counter at a small coffee shop, wearing a mask and an employee apron, packing lattes into cardboard trays. A customer snapped at her for moving too slowly. Clara bowed her head. "I am sorry. It will be right out."

With renewed determination, Ashier got up from his bed and prepare for the pack meeting, determined to figure out the identity of his mate and the reason for her danger. Ashier walked towards his wardrobe and opened the doors, revealing an array of fine clothing. He took out his royal robes. The robes were a deep shade of maroon, trimmed with gold embroidery that depicted the symbol of his pack. The robes were made of the finest silk, which felt soft and smooth against his skin. The robe was long and flowed elegantly as he walked. The robe was also embellished with intricate beading around the edges, giving it a regal appearance.

“Very classy.” I fished out the man’s wallet with a smirk and slipped it into the inside pocket of my tattered jacket. “It’s not stealing if they’re crooks too. I am just redistributing wealth, one greedy bastard at a time.” Victor chuckled, his breath clouding in the cold night air. “Robin Hood with dirty sneakers. Your brand is so consistent.”

the other man asked. "Stole them from a hunter's camp." The man drank more mead. "I never thought to live the day when Rhobart Braveheart would steal something." "Yeah, yeah," Rhobart said. "What about your cloaks then, Droyn? Got them from those treacherous humans that sold their lives to the Orcs in exchange for a little liberty?" He studied the nails from his left hand.

He reported. I looked at the time and didn’t know that it was already late in the afternoon. Time flies when you are focused on working. I slumped my back to my chair and pinched the bridge of my nose. I rested for a while and then started to change. I was surprised to see what clothes Tia provided me. It was a formal suit with a robe that is colored red and embroidered with gold. It was long enough to call it a gown. It has a rope in the chest part to connect both sides to keep it from falling. I am truly amazed at the design of the robe, you can feel by seeing that it is for royals.

A man who looked like he was covered in golden paint instantly jumped down from the second floor and landed right in front of Harvey. He was a bald man with golden skin, and bore the appearance of a monk. Strangely enough, he also looked somewhat roguish and arrogant. His temperament didn’t resemble a monk in the slightest. He was dressed in a yellow robe, and carried a long sword and a short spear. Rather than a monk, he looked like a bald robber. The long-haired young man from before grew ecstatic at this man’s appearance. He said happily, “Master Fatal, you’re here! Kill them! Let them know the consequences of offending us!”

I mutter, hatred still flowing through my veins instead of blood. I wrap the garrotte wire tighter across my hands, getting into stance as my eyes follow a subtle movement from the bushes. The signal is a howl from Ryker. Ragnar has us all briefed. My hands are covered in a pair of knuckle dusters. I had my leather jacket over my gear, which was actually a crop top and slick black pants that allowed me to move around, a utility belt with a series of knives strapped to it, and military boots. A howl sounds some distance in the front, just at the same time a group of rogues leap out of the bushes.