The Keepers want me to steal an object from the Pagans called the Jacknall's Paw. It's a mummified hand--charming. But then, what should I expect from a strange cult of unpredictable primitives who worship the ancient Trickster god? No one's heard much about the Pagans lately, but Artemus gave me a tip about this South Quarter neighborhood, and I've heard rumors of break-ins and howling in the night. This tunnel is going the right way, I can smell it -- vegetation and rot. Stealing from the Pagans is never easy, or smart. They and their creatures don't have any love for me. When I'm done, the Keepers better come through on their part of the bargain. I don't like risking my neck for nothing. Severed hands don't pay the rent.