Rogues, thieves, pirates and ne'er-do-wells abound in speculative fiction. Sometimes heroic, sometimes villainous, often somewhere in between, rogues are as likely to steal one's heart as one's purse, and show little remorse while helping themselves to either.
So why do we love them? Because they're imperfect, fallible, and even vulnerable under that carefully-maintained, world-weary exterior.
Rogues represent something we rarely see in our daily lives: ordinary people prepared to take on the "powers that be" by way of guile and subterfuge. But are they only in it for the loot, or are they--deep down--romantic at heart?
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