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Cock and Bull: Tales of the Thieves Guild. - Printable Version

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Cock and Bull: Tales of the Thieves Guild. - megs - 11-12-2014

<div style="text-align:center;]<font size="2" face="Verdana, Arial, Segoe UI Emoji, Segoe UI Symbol, Symbola, EmojiSymbols]<img style="" src="http://i.imgur.com/9PDs1Kf.jpg" style="font-size:10pt;max-width:100%;][/font]
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[/align]<div style="text-align:left;]<span style="font-size:10pt;]From rags to riches stories are a dime a dozen. All pomp and posture, perfect place and time scenarios meant to keep the masses from questioning their lot in life. They're boring, pretentious, and awfully dry - except here, that is. Under the ramshackle drawbridge leading into Dunwich, accessible only by boat through the canals, is Cock and Bull, where thievery pays the bills and mead runs you a story. Controlled by the Cutlass Kings, it started as an inside joke to see what sorts of dregs would show up on the doorstep of the infamous gang. A few wanderers over the years, with their share of loot and tall tales to pitch and present, but mostly kept a well guarded secret. If not, there would be no Cock and Bull for anyone, as their leader thought it best to weed out the rats long before a public invitation was given towards others of their lower social graces.  

<div style="text-align:center;][/img]"http://i.imgur.com/4PJyLOD.jpg" style="" style="font-size:10pt;max-width:100%;][/align]</span>[/align]<div style="text-align:left;]
[/align]<div style="text-align:left;]<span style="font-size:10pt;]Through battered, decaying doorway is the massive great hall, carved from the very sewers the hideout was built into. Decorated in paintings and sculptures no one bothers to maintain, few would discern the mess of goods as a welcoming sight to newcomers. Yet beyond the waterlogged burrow of stone and cobble is the actual home of the notorious Cutlass Kings, where their glory is maintained in a private and intimidating show of skulls. The entirety of their innermost sanctum is covered in skulls; the walls lined with them on crooked shelves, and the furniture inlaid with the craniums of cowards and Queen's guard alike. Split vertically into two even stories, the first of these is what most come to entertain themselves with. Kegs of mead and bottle ale are available for purchase, as well as food from a neighboring spit close to the counter. There isn't much besides tables and chairs elsewhere in the room, save for the carrion trophies.  

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[/img]"http://i.imgur.com/foZnzYk.jpg" style="" style="font-size:10pt;max-width:100%;][/align]</span>[/align]<div style="text-align:left;]
[/align]<div style="text-align:left;]<span style="font-size:10pt;]The second floor is split up into two sections. The first is the housing of the gang members, tight quarters for able bodies better used outside of the hideout. Everyone had their own personal stash of good, from gold piles scattered around their chambers, to books and scrolls and religious icons they pilfered in their countless adventures. the opposite side of the level was renovated more so than the rest of the establishment, fitted with furniture and finery fit for a palace. This was their meeting chamber, where orders were dictated, and plans were set in motion. Despite the rough appearance of their organization to outsiders, the Cutlass kings was a family, with their maternal figurehead leading the charge. 


<div style="text-align:center;]<img style="" src="http://i.imgur.com/eY5Glqv.jpg" style="font-size:10pt;max-width:100%;][/align]</span>[/align]<div style="text-align:left;]
[/align]<div style="text-align:left;]<span style="font-size:10pt;]The rules aren't listed, but one would do well to tread cautiously in these dark holes of their fair city. Common sense could save your life. The Cutlass Kings controlled the entire waterways, and anyone caught within the tunnels without permission faces the wrath of their numbers. Anyone still looking to come scurrying through the most dangerous pathways through Dunwich should present themselves upon arrival. While terribly cruel at times, the Cutlass Kings only kill for a reason.  </span>[/align]<div style="text-align:left;]
[/align]<div style="text-align:left;]<span style="font-size:10pt;]Don't give them a reason.</span>[/align]<div style="text-align:left;]
<div style="text-align:center;]<span style="font-size:10pt;]*Follow the ToS, respect the other players, and have fun. * A mature role play with mature themes, potentially.*</span>[/align][/align]<div style="text-align:left;]
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Cock and Bull: Tales of the Thieves Guild. - Kat - 11-12-2014

<img style="avatar" src="http://i.imgur.com/fUK7FgG.png" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]The Cock and Bull was Nymeros' idea. Not the organization housed there - just the name of their hideout; he thought himself clever for it.

Perched outside the entrance with a pinch of tobacco rolled into a slender smoking stick, the tall fellow in question peered wearily through the fog. This time of year brought about a great many things he had no like for. Cold weather, difficult heists, and bitter women. Any other man would likely find a more reputable source of income, but Nymeros Kreed was a child of the gutter, and had resigned himself to a life in the trenches long before meeting up with the Cutlass Kings. Back when it was a more scattered band of outlaws than it currently was, Nymeros had again thought himself clever, having infiltrated their base and pilfered a few choice prizes from the leader. It wasn't until he was caught by a mysterious woman that his clever streak ran out, as he didn't think twice to boast his deeds, and she didn't think twice to point a very large cutlass at his family jewels.

And that was how he became acquainted with Quincy Renard, crowned Queen of the Cutlass Kings. As far as Nymeros knew, there had never actually been a King. Just a very frightening woman and her devoted following of murdering marauders, hidden deep beneath the city streets of Dunwich.

Smoke trickled from his lips while he waited for a sign, careful not to lean too far forward in his crouch. Any moment now... Any second...

Then, with wings spread and eyes straight forward, a massive bird flew in the cavernous entrance and landed with a brief hop on the head of a half deteriorated statue. Rising to his feet to close the gap between himself and the avian beast, Nymeros pressed a hand along the spine of his partner. "And they had words to share with us, didn't they?" Mumbled, the words meant little to the owl, who ignored them in favor of preening it's breast feathers. While it was busy, the gentleman removed a small tag from the leg of the bird and unrolled the paper attached. Carefully he skimmed the contents once, and then again a second time, stumbling over a few of the words because of poor penmanship. When the message had been fully digested and understood, Nymeros scoffed and chucked the parchment to the canal, hoping it was swallowed by fish, and shit out near where they dumped bodies to rot with lesser creatures and vermin.

He was so tired of this bureaucratic bullshit.

Long steps announced his presence in the tavern, where a few quiet men drank and played card games he didn't have time to join. "Where is Quincy?"

One pointed upstairs and Nymeros nodded his thanks before continuing towards the meeting room with similar long strides. A strange dichotomy it was, given how ugly and cankerous the rest of their hideout was. It wasn't as though they employed maids to keep the place running, so what little needed to get done was taken care of, and the rest of the upkeep was entirely ignored. Waltzing inside with a familiar squint of his lids, the thief took it upon himself to release a brief cough, in case Quincy hadn't noticed him enter otherwise.

"We have bad news, I'm afraid." Compared to most of their gang, his accent was thick and coarse, and spoke volumes of a life lived underground. "Are you busy?"

Cock and Bull: Tales of the Thieves Guild. - megs - 11-12-2014

<img style="avatar" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;" src="http://i.imgur.com/rOE4ZRT.png] It wasn't easy being queen.

Or that's what she had heard, once upon a time. For Quincy, however, being queen was the easiest thing she'd ever have to deal with. All it had taken was one grand scheme with the most golden of looted payouts and she was on top of the dark underworld she called home. It was impressive how easily others would follow someone with a cool head and a flair for planning, as long as they got paid. A pretty face didn't hurt either, when you chose a profession littered with roguish knaves that considered themselves the charming and clever sort. 

One of which had just graced her with his presence. She didn't turn when Nymeros entered. She stood with her back to him, all done up in dark leather and glinting buckles. One hand was planted on her hip, while the other idly trailed a small dagger between her slender fingers as if she were lapsed into a bout of deep thought. It wasn't until he spoke that she turned her attention away from the maps and parchments spread across her desk, and tossed a glance at him over her shoulder "Pour vous, Nymeros, being busy can always wait," the tone she used did not quite match her words, but somehow held both the affection of a dear friend and a biting sarcasm. 

She was almost surprised to see him without his pet. She turned and leaned against the desk, slipping the dagger she had been toying with back into the empty sheath strapped to her thigh. Casually, she crossed her legs at the ankles and her arms across her chest. Tossing her head to remove an unruly fall of dark hair from her vision, she settled chocolate hues on him. "Bad news?" she repeats with a sigh. "Oh, dear. I do very much hate bad news," something in the way the French accent, she'd never quite been able to get rid of, accented the vowels made the neutral tone she was attempting, sound obtrusively authoritative. 




Cock and Bull: Tales of the Thieves Guild. - Kat - 11-12-2014

[/img]"http://i.imgur.com/fUK7FgG.png" style="avatar" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]Quincy was a familiar face in their revolving door of new recruits and older coots who stumbled in and never bothered to leave. At this point, she knew every bad habit he possessed, and he knew every time she was playing coy to cover her irritation. Neither of them had anything to hide. Not after all those long nights... "I come with a heavy heart to burden you with these-" His free hand gripped idly at his side while Nymeros stole a drag from his now diminished cigarette. "New details." Crossing the carpeting, the massive slav crushed his butt and leaned his rear into the table with an exasperated sigh. "The good King has issued warnings that anyone caught outside their homes passed curfew is a traitor to the crown, and in such, should be dealt with on site." Turning away from his seated leader with a swish of his heavy coat, Nymeros pointed to the map hanging neatly on the wall. "This interferes with our routes here," The gloved appendage shifted moved two digits to direct her attention, "And here."

Taking a few booted steps backwards, he once more made an about face and shrugged his board shoulders as a half hearted sign of defeat. "Of course, it was already risky to lug around alchemical components through the Pikers territory, but with that uneasy truce we settled on last month, they had decided looking the other way wasn't such a bad idea." Subconsciously, gloved fingers found their way to the hilt of his blade, which remained a heavy weight he rarely did without. "But, on the bright side, you can taste the chicken this evening." Flashing a dashing smile, Nymeros seemed to have waved off his initial concerns, and defaulted back to his lovable (as he put it, "charming") nonchalance usually saved for less disruptive circumstances.

"Why not have dinner with me downstairs and we'll discuss it further? I can tell you haven't eaten. Cooped up here, thinking too much for your own good..." Trailing off, his dark quills shook with another sigh. "Maybe after we're finished, we can look into another route on the south end. I hear there's less foot traffic, so less guards."


Cock and Bull: Tales of the Thieves Guild. - megs - 11-13-2014

<img style="avatar" src="http://i.imgur.com/rOE4ZRT.png" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]The raven-haired thief uncrossed her arms to push off from her perch and cross the short distance to the map Nymeros was using for reference. She scoffed when he spoke of curfew as her features settled into a very curt frown. "Merde," she hissed under her breath as his fingers trailed over one of their more lucrative paths. "Someone sold us out," she accuses, though the information was obvious. She stood in front of the mural a little longer as he paced; determined to find a solution for this issue immediately. Quincy was not very good at wasting time, and when things stopped going smoothly, her crew grew restless in their anxiety. She couldn't have the dreaded lot of them flying off the handle when the situation was getting so tight.

She cast her eyes to the side, to access him out of her peripherals, but she didn't smile in return. They were two sides of the same coin, but watching them was sort of like witnessing the night try to interact with the day. "I want the rat found and dealt with. Immédiatement. Do whatever you have to do." She shifted on her feet and dropped her arms to the either side; the position would have looked like a resignation of defeat if her nose hadn't been jutted in the air as confidently as it was.

She rolled her shoulders in a shrug, and almost complained that she wasn't hungry. Just as she always did when she felt like there was too much left to do. With these new developments her obligations had quite literally tripled. She knew it would be pointless, though; she could tell by they way his tone left no room for argument. "If you insist," she replies lazily, turning to him. She lifted her arm, cocked at the elbow as if she expected him to offer his own as any good escort would. The gesture implied either an unspoken intimacy, or that she really liked being queen.

Cock and Bull: Tales of the Thieves Guild. - Kat - 11-13-2014

[/img]"http://i.imgur.com/fUK7FgG.png" style="avatar" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]What was it the other thieves called him? Oh, right. A lackey.

"Probably." There wasn't a doubt in Nymeros' mind that someone had done them a disservice by double crossing their organization. It would be a merciful act to deal with them himself, as he expected Quincy would be less forgiving when they pleaded for a quick death. Nymeros, however, could only take so much carnage at any given time. There was a limit to the atrocities one could stomach, even after many years of practice. The most hardhearted of the crew would do this job to take part in ruthlessness, sadism, and disturbed perversion, but the square shouldered slav didn't pretend he was without feelings. Much of what he saw, and lived through frequently, came back in his nightmares. That may have been partially to blame for those haunted hues that seemed to stare through others, including Quincy. "I will take care of it though. This isn't the end of our operations. Not by a long shot."

Brushing off his forearm in anticipation for the way she expected him to lead them downstairs, his figure towered over Quincy's when he was close. once he had hitched his forearm through hers, the two moved in unison towards the spill of well lit, but disgustingly kept, mess hall. The collections of human remains were no more than bones, but in some cases, they added up to entire people. In a few of the chairs, skeletons had been propped up like festive decorations, their arms and legs positioned comically. Nymeros was still wearing a dashing smile when they took a table for their party, and he snapped repeated to get them service.

There was, as per usual, chicken on the spit. So, they received a rather plump hen plucked and dressed for their meal. It tasted dry, was burnt on one side, and still had it's gizzards stuffed inside (as they spilled out after a few slices with the carving knife). Still, this was probably some of the better meat their cook had served, and Nymeros' grin broadened as he ate. "Just like home!" He said, licking his fingers when he was finished to suck the juice off the digits. "But back to our concerns..." The massive male tilted his seat back and propped his boots on the edge of the table, rubbing his stomach slowly while reclined.

"So, there is another route we can feed carriers through. Runners don't need very much room, but they need privacy, yes? Well the roads here are much slimmer, but they with be practically alone. The guard doesn't bother with that side of the city because no one with money would be caught dead there." While he sounded confident in his plan, Nymeros still wondered just who he would be needing to find when it came to their problem currently. Who sold them out? Was this something he could quickly remedy, or was there more at stake? A few man had more to think on than a hungry one. one massive palm raised to snap again, signaling they needed more drinks for their table.

"Would I be wrong to assume you want to see the new route? I plan to go and look it over tonight."

Cock and Bull: Tales of the Thieves Guild. - megs - 11-15-2014

<img style="avatar" src="http://i.imgur.com/rOE4ZRT.png" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]Quincy would not have referred to her companion as such, had she known these were the sort of things whispered among her crew. Jealously often took the form of malice, and bad blood was not good for business. Still, she did little to squander the envy with the way she clearly favored Nymeros. She rather considered him more like a lieutenant, or a confidant maybe. He accompanied her on all the most high-priority missions and if she needed something done she would most certainly go to him with the task. 

One would not consider promises made on the end of a blade worth a grain of salt, but Quincy figured that a man who uttered his loyalty with a cutlass against his groin, would be clever enough to know the next time would not be so forgiving. 

"I trust that you will handle it." He would likely not handle it in the way that she would prefer, but the job would get done. Quincy would have liked to see whoever betrayed them strung and quartered, but where would she be if she cut off every head that had done her wrong?  

Oh, yes. Right where she was. "We still have many more parcels to move before month's end."

Eyes like bubbling tar, flickered around the room as they moved through it. It really was a sight to behold. If you were a psychopath. The collection had quite grown over the last few years, and if it kept going at this rate the hall would be littered with more remains than people. 

Quincy picked and pulled at ruined pieces of chicken with her fingers more than she ate them. She did not share his enthusiasm and it was a wonder how she managed to sustain herself at all with the way she chose to be so finicky. She pushed the remains away as he leaned back and she clasped her hands in her lap.  "Bien sûr, I want to see it. I would not likely send couriers down a path I knew nothing of. I will go with you."

Cock and Bull: Tales of the Thieves Guild. - Ghostly - 11-18-2014

<img style="Alphonso" src="http://i.imgur.com/2fw8ctT.png" style="max-width:100%;float:left;margin:0 18px;] [size=small] The light of mid day shone bright through towering windows illuminating the interior up for all to see. Gilded feature gleamed, showering the finly threaded carpet in their shining reflection. All of this gaudy display of wealth was practically begging to be stuffed into a bag, but there were no thieves here. Although this was a lie, the said criminal had not a hand to deal with. "You know why you are here before me?" Sitting atop a throne and wearing a crown lined with priceless gemstones made to fit that large head of his, an aged fellow spoke to one kneeling before the steps leading to him.

"Of course, my good king." Deep blue hues raised their gaze from the floor to peer at the monarch who directed an almost impressive apathetic attention towards the only one in the room besides the two guards at his side. Alphonso did not appear to be a wrong doer, but here he was in tight cuffs at both his wrists and ankles for crimes he most certainly committed. If anything he'd be mistaken as another member of royalty with those well maintained locks accompanied with a prime and proper attire; a duke perhaps if his cards had played out better. With a split lip and more bruises than he could count underneath he sure felt worse than the less than lawful individual appeared. By the grace of the king however, he was set to look presentable at the very least.

"In light of your crimes we'd simply have you strung up in the gallows, but your skills present the crown with a unique opportunity to weed out an organization that has been a thorn in our sides for too long now."

It wasn't hard to guess where this conversation was headed, and Alphonso swallowed down the blood collection in the back of his mouth rather than spitting it rather forcefully in his highness's direction. "The Cutlass Kings." Sighing, there would be no look of pleasure in what was sure to come next. In this lands there two factions vying for control, the empire, and then the Cutlass Kings. To wrong either meant a unfortunate fate was to befall one's head. In this case Alphonso was set on being ripped in half by each tearing away at him.

This was a death sentence either way, and personally Alphonso preferred to die by hanging than feasted on by rats while he writhed in the sewers beaten and broken. "Yes, in the meantime your sister will be our guest until you deliver a significant blow for us to move in and rip out the heart of their filthy band of miscreants." Well, there was always that leverage, and he felt his breath pushed out of him entirely at those words. It seemed as though he had not hidden her away quite as well as he thought.

"Do you understand?"

A hollowed look was displayed on what would normally be proud if not cocky features. They would undoubtedly rise to meet the vicious gaze of the one who commanded control over his life now. "Yes, your majesty."

~~~

They called him the sharpest eye this side of the Chestermine Bridge, man possessing a silver tongue that could turn any argument. Flattery, all of it built up to give him a damn good reputation. That was not to say he wasn't a top notch marksman, or extremely well spoken, because he certainly was. If one needed an lookout or a scout there were few better a choice than Alphonso, he'd surely argue against any other name brought up. Alphonso Calazan was an alias, naturally he couldn't go by the name belonging to the empire lest it be easily traced. In two years and some change, the man had woven his way into the workings of the thieves guild. All as planned, yet little could be done other than passing notes strapped to rats in the sewers for contacts to pick up regarding routes and persons of interest that might be easy to snatch. The golden opportunity had not yet risen for him to snatch a hold of, and so his sister Cecilia remained a "guest" of the king.

Sitting in the company of others having a jovial time he feigned interest while sipping at a mug of ale. It wasn't until the queen herself stepped into the fray that his attention was captured. There was the heart that needed to be ripped out as his majesty had put it. If it were so easy a task then he'd already have performed the deed himself, but she was rarely without protection such as the one attached to her arm or hidden away out of sight. Beyond that Quincy was no pushover herself as he'd seen first hand her skills with a blade.

What were the two discussing? Surely he had to know, anything was better than listening to fools wasting time drinking. Rising to his feet, he downed the remainder of his drink and pushed away from the table to get a refill, making sure to pass by the table Quincy and Nymeros were seated at eating. Standing by the fire with eyes on the two he made no means not to hide his interest. If anything he had gone some time without a job and this was a moment to insert himself into a potential improvement of status.
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Cock and Bull: Tales of the Thieves Guild. - Kat - 11-24-2014

[/img]"http://i.imgur.com/fUK7FgG.png" style="avatar" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]Nymeros wore his smile in place of a family crest. Maybe that was why he wasn't afraid to smile; he didn't actually have a family crest. Making due with what you were intended, though a novel concept, didn't fit in the lifestyle he currently led. If there was something he wished for himself, he earned it, though through craftier means than individuals outside their establishment might use. "Yes. Consider it a minor inconvenience." Idly, he tongued the end of his digits to remove the remnants of chicken, rather unabashed in his heathen habits. Of all the gross, disgusting acts the thief had partaken in over the years, one would think sucking juices from his fingertips would be the least revolting. "We can leave whenever you're ready, though I'd like us to be accompanied by a few extra eyes."

Not that he doubted his own skills, or those of Quincy, but there was no such thing as being over prepared. Not when their lives hung so close to the fire pit.

Rising back to his towering stance near the table, Nymeros issued a sharp whistle, and his owl came flying with a screech of noise. In usual animal fashion, it remained unbiased to those in command and those at the bottom rungs of the ladder. It's judgement was a pure kind that couldn't be bought or determined by the wealth a persona possessed or acquired. If the owl didn't like you, there was a reason for this, and it would never forget whatever that reason may have been.

Landing with a graceful bob on the shoulder of the slav, the owl swept the room with wide-set eyes, cautious. Nymeros practically ignored his new addition as he spoke to the room, raising his voice a few octaves to ensure there would be no question to whom his intent was directed. "We're heading towards the bay, and we'll be needing help. Who all is free? Any volunteers?" Nymeros was a dark haired giant, and his size was far more intimidating that the words, though he implied he would be taking people with him even if they had no desire to go. Such was the ruling order of the Cutlass Kings. Quiny wanted something done, and Nymeros ensured whatever it was got taken care of in a timely manner.

"Hurry now! We haven't got all night!"

Cock and Bull: Tales of the Thieves Guild. - megs - 11-30-2014

<img style="avatar" src="http://i.imgur.com/rOE4ZRT.png" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]More often than not Quincy felt that Nymeros' expression read reckless. He was all careless smiles and grins, but that was honestly for the better. What with, Quincy's ability to constantly frown and seem thoroughly disappointed at all waking hours. At his reassurance, she was unlikely to give the idea of a betrayer another second of her time. So, unless the issue reared it's ugly head in a dramatic way in the future, Quincy was free to attend to much more important matters.

She nodded curtly, as he suggested they take further accompaniments. He rose to call to his pet, and Quincy's hand moved the dagger strapped to her thigh to remove the blade and toy with it idly as he made an announcement across the room. Her chair made a scraping noise as she moved back from the table. She rose to her full height. Much less imposing than Nymeros' stature, but being in charge had it's advantages.

There were plenty of potential volunteers to choose from. Some Quincy trusted a bit more than others, and some with better skills than the others. These qualifiers were not necessarily split among the same groups. Dark eyes swept the room, briefly, before she used her dagger to gesture behind her.

"You," she says clearly, to the man that had been standing by the fire. She didn't know if he had actually volunteered or not, but she also did not care. She turned on her heel and walked closer to the would-be eavesdropper. She walked closer to him, until she was able to move around him in a half-circle as if she were inspecting him.

When she circled back to Alphonso's front, she tapped the hilt of her dagger against his chest. "You will be joining us. I hope your scouting is better than your eavesdropping." Her tone brooked no room for an argument as she moved away from him, closer to the table, and Nymeros.

Cock and Bull: Tales of the Thieves Guild. - Ghostly - 12-01-2014

<img style="Alphonso" src="http://i.imgur.com/2fw8ctT.png" style="max-width:100%;float:left;margin:0 18px;] [size=small]Alphonso would have obnoxiously rolled his eyes if not for the fact that the one poking fun at him was the boss of this unruly band of thieves. Of course her attention had fallen on the man prying into their conversation, twas his intent after all. Over to the cast out royal she strode and in moments began an inspection of his character. Those blue orbs that never missed a detail took notice out of the corner to the dagger against his chest. An opportunity to push back in one swift motion in an attempt to end Quincy's life and assure the freedom of his sister. Unfortunately he'd be cut down faster that he could revel in her safety, so naturally another time it would be done. As she walked away he gave a laugh and a loud exclamation to mark him in her mind. "No one's eyes are better than mine in this lot." A hand waved jovially at the crowds sitting at the tables drinking ale to follow his words. "I'll gladly be a part of the operation." Not that he had a choice, but he'd have signed himself up all the same regardless of her intervention.

If they were to be off shortly, then Alphonso would have to gather his gear. Downing the rest of his ale, he slammed the empty mug on the counter and made his way out of the pub. When they were ready so to would he.



His own quarters were cramped, a far cry from the luxurious lifestyle he led years in the past. Still, it was his home now and what possessions he'd gathered were prized; an effect of that insatiable greed that got him into this mess in the first place.

From under the bottom of his bed he'd feel around for an item strapped against the frame. Away with a gold locket in his hand it would open with a click to reveal a woman with fair skin and long blonde locks. Too innocent for this city, Cecilia's visage was pressed to his lips with a silent prayer before being closed and slipped around his neck to be hidden in his clothes. Never did he begin a mission without a promise to rescue her and return safely. His gear did not amount to much, needing to be on the light side for better movement as a scout. What he did take with him was securely strapped at his waist and chest, hidden out of sight underneath a dark cloak.

Shortly thereafter the expert marksman would be found in the meeting chamber either to wait for the others to arrive, or to be late to the party.
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Cock and Bull: Tales of the Thieves Guild. - fishwithaknife - 12-04-2014

<img style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;" src="http://i.imgur.com/kE6285D.png" style="avatar] A mop of black hair was shoved away from a scarred face, unsettling the large raven that had been picking though said hair. Dark eyes belonging to an otherwise unremarkable young woman were turned toward the call for volunteers, while the raven croaked his protest against his apparent master's movement. Though by the bird's behavior, he might have been scolding an unruly chick rather than a human. Not that the street rat found that important at the moment, raising an arm to show that she too was willing to join whatever endeavor was about to be set out.

The young woman was Kohaku Zuki, or at least that was the name her raven would caw at anyone who asked. The pair were inseparable, to the point that most assumed that the bird was unable to fly, and that the woman was unable to speak. Otherwise, Kohaku was easily forgotten, with no great or terrible reputation carved out for herself. She kept her head down, and had become somewhat of an expert at being overlooked, though she had run plenty of messages, goods, and other tradeables as long as there was a meal in it. She gave little of her past, and few bothered to ask anyways, for lack of patience in listening to a usually ill-tempered fowl.

Kohaku stood and cleaned up what remained of the bread and drippings from better foods, ready to leave, now that she was on her feet. The raven (simply called Bird, by those who bothered to address the animal), clicked loudly at the demand to 'hurry up' rasping at Nymeros with similar impatience,"Work for food. Food for work. No food, no work!" This earned rolled eyes from the bird's partner, and she felt the need to snap her fingers and point at her own eyes, prompting Bird to hold his silence until needed.

Antics done with, the young woman gave a "go on" hand wave, to indicate that she was in fact coming along. She figured that if they were just calling for volunteers, the job was either simple, or very dangerous. Either way, this meant that a reward would mean another meal, and another day of survival, and failure...well, it's not like she would worry for it too long if she failed.

Cock and Bull: Tales of the Thieves Guild. - Kat - 12-09-2014


[/img]"http://i.imgur.com/fUK7FgG.png" style="avatar" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]Nymeros cast an appreciative gaze to the individuals who volunteered, ignoring the fact they were pressured into coming as it didn't seem all that noteworthy. "Right! You two should work for now." He left a window of time open for any other takers to pipe up, but as most thieves tended to avoid group activities, their swill swallowing comrades kept their lips shut. The bird on his shoulder didn't have a name either, but it was more to do with his attempts to keep from growing attached. Oh how he loved that bird, who judged him fairly and sometimes tore holes in his clothing, but he wouldn't admit it to any of the bilgerats housed in their hideout. "We'll discuss the details in the waterway. If you can keep your wits about you tonight, there might be hope for you lot outside of the sewers." Finishing with a wiggle of his brows, the large gentleman couldn't suppress the smile that stole his features.

But he did manage to move them along, because regardless how enjoyable he found company, he knew to put the important matters first on his list of priorities. Neither of the tagalongs were remarkable to Nymeros, but had someone asked his opinion of himself, he would say average at best. Among all the denizens and sewer crawlers within their nest, Quincy was the only one to really strike him as extraordinary, and even she had limitations. Nymeros appreciated the genuine in everyone he met, but he refused to worship false idols, and no one received his respect without earning it first. Leading the group back through the crumbling archways and over slick slime coated steps towards the canals, the male pointed for his bird to go ahead. "Bates Alley. That's where we're headed."

The bird likely had no idea what that meant, but it was a clever creature and would circle high and swoop low to keep on their trail.

Once at the canal, Nymeros ushered his companions into a small boat barely large enough to fit their party, and cast it off with a shove of his massive boot. The city was built in a way that water flowed through it's entirety, and the sewer tunnels had always been large enough to fit decent sized vessels. The merchants used the passages to discreetly load their boats, and the thieves used the waterways to bully said merchants, and steal from the less fortunate traders from foreign ports. Now, in the quiet and dark of the covered tunnel, Nymeros struck a match and unlodged the lantern from beneath one of the seats so they weren't blind to any obstacles. They had a ways to go by row boat, but it was better than trying to get through the streets above without being detected.

"Here, make yourself useful, lad, and take the other oar." Handing Alphonso one crudely crafted stick to row with, the other was gripped in his grubby fists so the group was moving along at a comfortable pace.

"Quincy, there have been reports of things moving down here. You know, dark things. Nothing the guards want to deal with..." It was idle conversation at best, and it trailed off quickly as they were steered around refuse in the water.

Cock and Bull: Tales of the Thieves Guild. - megs - 01-09-2015

<img style="avatar" src="http://i.imgur.com/rOE4ZRT.png" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]Quincy had retreated shorty after harassing the flaxen-haired male, and after another woman volunteered to accompany them. Nymero's seemed pleased enough with the prospects and that was good enough for the rogue. She'd left her right-hand in charge with little more than a head nod so she could return to her own quarters and collect a few things. One could never have to many daggers; she was also quite partial to smoke bombs and poisons. She didn't bring anything that couldn't be carried on her person without weighing her down. Nothing that made too much noise. Her methods and weapons of choice, meant a lot of close-quarters combat, but if it came down to something like that she had already fucked up pretty bad.

When she rejoined the group in the sewers after a passing of time, it would be difficult to tell that there was anything different about her or the items she carried. Questionable to whether she had actually collected anything new at all.

Even with the boat's small size, and that fact that it was basically filled to capacity, Quincy managed to find away to appear as if she was lounging. Her posture suggested this was more of a leisurely skate through the pond than a potentially dangerous reconnaissance mission.

Nymero's had begun talking to her, but she was only half-paying attention. Dark orbs were settled on the raven, still perched on the woman's shoulder. How rude, Quincy had never bothered to get the names of either of their volunteers. Asking them now would have made her look back, so she was content to sit back and let them assume that she knew or did not care. She was fixated on the black-feathered avian, because she had begun to wonder when birds had become such a popular accessory. She also wondered if this one would cause a problem with Nymeros' own companion.

"I doubt it's anything we can't handle." Whether she meant the guild as a collective or just herself and Nymeros', personally, was unclear. "Are any of them saying what kind of dark things? Or are they just rumors spread by mindless gutter-runners and sleep-deprived guardsmen?"