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.

[SilenceFalls]

Silas sat with the Blade staring him down most of the way. Despite the stare, he was not intimidated. He knew which pairs of eyes had seen death, and which had not.

His had not.

However, there was a certain eagerness to finally see it, that was there. Silas decided it was best not to be this mans first, as he would end up the same as the mans other first: screwed, and likely not very well.

He felt the bumping of the cobblestone roads of the Imperial City give way to the dirt roads of the Blue Road. County Cheydinhal. He'd never been this far out, in fact the furthest he'd traveled was to Skingrad for a special job once.

The constant bumping made his stomach turn, given that he'd been still in a prison cell in prison the last three years he had no tolerance built against it. Then again, he had no food in his stomach either. In spite of the growing uneasiness he shut his eyes as the experience began to subside from his mind and the fact that he had been woken in the middle of the night caught up to him.

He fell into a black, dreamless slumber and reawoke what seemed to be midday given the shadows position from the bars and the smell of cooked pork and bread being waved underneath his nose.

The Headman had come into the carriage compartment and his wrist restraints had been removed, though he still had the mage manacles on.

"It's traditional to give the doomed man a final meal. I figured you might want something to eat, it's been at least a day since you ate." he smiled with an air of bemusement.

"Yer takin' me all the way to Cheydinhal just to kill me? Who comes up with these cracked schemes?" Silas accepted the meal without hesitation.

"Oh, we're not taking you to Cheydinhal, we just stopped off here for supplies...no, you're being taken to the next province over." The headman replied.

Silas stopped his exuberant chewing, looking up to the man's now-serious face.

"Mahr-wnnd?!" He exclaimed disbelievingly.

"Yes. To Morrowind." He replied, getting up to leave the back, knocking twice on the door.

The other Blade that had been guarding him before re-entered and took his former seat. He gave Silas that eager grin once more and grabbed a chunk of his pork as Silas continued to stare in disbelief.

"Hell of a destination. I hear them Dark Elves make slaves outta kinds like you. Maybe throw you into that big volcano they got. Thing is...slavery's legal out there, the Emperor Tiber Septim himself said it was okay. Signed an armistice and everything." He grinned at Silas.

A small leather purse flew through the bars and hit the Blade in the head, and he looked outside angrily at the Headman.

"Leave the prisoner be, and don't eat his food!" He ordered sharply. "Now hand me my bag back."

The guard did as ordered and gave a sheepish look at Silas who had suddenly lost his appetite.