In the Arms of a Thief, Chapter One Options

[SilenceFalls]

In the Arms of a Thief.

Chapter One

It couldn't get much worse, could it?

Prologue

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The raindrops fell into the barrel just outside the tavern room. The surly Breton rose up slowly, his temples throbbing in rhythm to the sound. He had celebrated his latest success last night in the same manner he always did, with much drink and sin.

His escort that he hired from the night before was nowhere to be seen, which he preferred. After all, it was professional courtesy not too stick around after their particular brand of deed had been done. Same went for him in his line of work.

Also, immensely stupid for him to do so. They all paid their dues; be they escort, skooma dealer, specialized acquirer, et cetera, to the same boss: the Grey Fox, and that man ran a tight ship.

Theirs may be the only Guild in the whole of the Empire that actually had their very existence questioned. Operating in the shadows wasn't just a good idea, it was their law. While infractions were not lethal, they could become immensely expensive. All debts were paid to the Guild in one fashion or another, and they made certain you lived to regret it.

He looked around the mess of the room, gathering his clothing from the weathered wood floor. He walked across it without creaking a single board, and more impressively without wounding his bare feet with a loose splinter. He approached the basin, and dunked his face into the cool water. It smelled off, but he didn't care. All he needed was some quiet and maybe a bit more drink before the sun became too unbearable.

His hopes for that were dashed when the door started reverberating from the pounding on the other end, startling him from his position.

"City Watch! Open up!!" an authoritative cry came from the other end.

He looked around and began hatching his escape. The guard weren't too smart after all. Likely just rounding up the usual suspects. Or so he hoped.

"Eh...just a minute! I'm doing my business!" he called back, tussling around in his tunic and grabbing his belts.

"What business?" the voice called back.

"Do you want me to paint ye a bloody picture? The kind you sit down for!" he cried back. "And yer knockin, ain't helpin' matters! But come in if ye want the smell, and want to see my bait and tackle!"

"Oh." The guard replied.

"I'll give you five minutes." he replied after a bit of a pause, and his footsteps sounded off to the next room.

He smiled at the thought that the guard were so easily manipulated at times, and prepared to exit through the window.

"Hello, Silas." An Imperial man with silver hair and similarly colored suit of armor stood just outside, waiting for the Breton.

"Ooooh! Adamus! It's been a while! How's the wife? And I see ye got stuck with the new recruits this time." the now-named Breton responded warmly.

"Yes, here I thought you were staying out of trouble. She's good, pregnant again, and yes, I'll be training these ones this year." He replied with a slight smile.

"Trouble? How's that? And, congratulations!" he said with a queer-eyed look.

"The usual. And thank you." he said pulling out a pair of manacles.

"Adamus! Really? The Mage-Manacles?" Silas said impudently.

"Sorry, I know you and your tricks by now." Adamus Philida replied, going through well-rehearsed motions of putting Silas in the manacles that stunted magicka, and Silas knowing this routine.

"Like coming to this same filthy place after every big haul. Really, I expect better of you by now." Adamus replied with a disappointed tone.

"But, I come here every Fredas! No crime in that." Silas replied almost mockingly.

"It's Morndas." Adamus replied, as he punched Silas in the gut, causing him to double over, and then proceed to release the remnants of last night onto the street.

"Good...one.." Silas replied, and felt himself being pushed forward.

[ThatSkyrimGuy]

So, Silas has upgraded from a prisoner behind walls to a captive of The Blades. I really like the feel of this story. An obviously well trained thief being...abducted?...by the Emperor's bodyguards, and now locked in a carriage heading east. Cheydinhal? Looking forward to more. Good stuff!