The Thieves Guild
by Jake Kerr.
Episode 102:
Fanning the Flames.
Kalos had offered to escort Vesper via the sewer under the North Fork,
but Vesper politely declined. There were other ways to sneak into places.
He had worn other guild colors many times in his role as a Blade.
When you were spying, assassinating, or doing some other deed that requires
access to another guild's tower or quarter of the city without raising
suspicion, you wore the appropriate colors.
It was particularly easy for Vesper to do this as he was the Craft Guild
Blade, and the Craft Guild made all of the clothing for the other guilds.
So as Vesper made his way into the Upper Quarter, he felt entirely comfortable
wearing a very specific outfit: thick brown trousers and a simple
green shirt. Topping it all off were his thick leather boots.
He wanted to look like a senior worker in the Outer Fields, and a walk into one of the
warehouses in the Warehouse District was all it took to achieve that aim.
As he crossed Trader's Bridge, it was immediately clear that Caeris' outreach
to the Harvest Guild had done little to calm things down.
On the Merchant and Craft Lower Quarter side, the bridge was tensely guarded by
merchant guards.
On the Upper Quarter side, where Harvest House stood, the bridge was heavily guarded by
Harvest guards. Knight protectors were notably absent in both
locations. "Halt!"
It was a Harvest Guild guard. "Fan the flames of
hatred," Allard had said. "I may as well start now," he
thought.
Vesper stopped and turned toward the guard.
He was a large man with a heavy sword who clearly wasn't there for show.
"Where are you coming from, and what is your business?"
The guard placed his hand on the pommel of his sword as he peered at Vesper.
"I'm from the Outer Fields."
Vesper waved off toward where the Outer Fields lay, far in the distance
beyond the wall. "I was concerned about my cousins in the Lower Quarter and went to check on
them."
The guard paused, and then nodded. "And how are they?"
"I couldn't find them."
Vesper clenched his teeth and practically spat out the rest of his words.
"I'd heard that the new Guildmaster Merchant would set things right, and that they would return.
But when I asked a Merchant guild member, he laughed and said that there wasn't much to return to,
and perhaps we'd learned our lesson in offending the Merchant Guild."
The guard frowned, and the hand on his pommel clenched into a fist.
"He said that?" "In front of the smoldering ruin of my family's
home." "The Merchants have always been an arrogant guild," the guard
growled. "It is worse. The new Guildmaster is the nephew of the Guildmaster
Craft, and I mentioned Orion would rebuild our homes for us." "That sounds
something like Orion would do." The guard leaned forward.
"What did the merchant say?" "He laughed at me again and said the Craft
Guild is already charging extra for equipment to clear the debris.
Sure, he'll help, but that greedy bastard will just use it as an excuse to bleed the other
guilds dry, and his nephew will help." "I find this hard to believe.
Orion is a simple good man." "I do as well."
The guard relaxed. "Uh, they were the words of one money counter."
Vesper nodded, but took note of the guard using the pejorative for the Merchant
Guild.
That was rarely done in the open streets among strangers.
Waving Vesper on, he added, "Orion will set things right."
"Fan the flames," Vesper thought. "My fear is he is
too simple and jovial for the task. Remember how he sided with Larson during the
Founder's Day banquet."
And with that comment, Vesper moved on.
Vesper had a long walk to Harvest House, and he intended to use the time to
formulate a plan. He did not plan on talking to Polo directly.
That would be suicide. Indeed, it apparently had led to the death of the
Thieves Guild Blade.
What he intended to do was leave a swath of ill will toward Orion and Caeris
by spreading rumors among the various inns and taverns where Harvest Guild
members met and shared stories and rumors.
There were two inns where he was known as a Harvest Guild member.
The first was the Golden Wand, an expensive inn located in the
very wealthy and exclusive Golden Triangle neighborhood.
The other was the Golden Apple, a more working-class tavern near Harvest
House.
He had intended on visiting the Apple first, as it was closer to Harvest
House and was the most popular intersection of every part of the guild.
The success of his sad story of a burnt house with the guard changed
his mind and coalesced his thoughts.
The destruction was part of the story, but the real anger would grow out of the
Merchant and Craft Guild reaction to that destruction.
And if that reaction didn't exist, Vesper would create it.
His plan required him to be covered in soot, and his new clothes would not work
for that.
Vesper pondered his options. The safest would be to head to the Outer
Fields and find one of the waste bonfires.
They were lit at night, and there would be ash and charcoal in the morning.Such a
trip would take a few days, however. The much faster option was to recross the
bridge, head to the Greenbelt, and prepare there.
The trouble would be crossing the guarded bridge twice more.
Vesper considered the risk acceptable and turned around.
As he expected, crossing back into the Lower Quarter went without incident.
The merchant guards were wary, but were clearly guarding against a large collection of
troops, and not a single guild member on foot.
Once he reached the other side, he walked past Merchant Tower to the Throughway.
The tower was surrounded by merchant guards, and while the words coming from Keres
were full of welcome and regret, he clearly was taking no chances.
Vesper took note and continued onward.
As he turned onto the Throughway, the devastation appeared even worse than his
previous journey. Entire neighborhoods had been burned to the ground.
"How can Keres welcome people back when they have nothing to return to?"
Vesper thought.
His comment to the guard about the craft guild growing rich over
Lassen's insanity
seemed all too real.
It was difficult to shock Vesper, but what he found on the Greenbelt was
difficult to believe. The stately mansions of the old Harvest House
families were unguarded, and what hadn't been burned down had been
looted.
He had expected guards and a difficult time getting near the houses, but he
simply walked right up. Entering a three-story house that was collapsed
granite, Vesper assumed the rock collapsed as the wooden higher structures
came down. "Could the merchants have torn it down?" Vesper wondered.
He was reasonably sure that the house belonged to one of the families from the mines.
They could use their connections to get the rock here.
Otherwise, getting large stone this far from the mines was absurdly
expensive.
He navigated through scorched rock and fallen and charred timber.
A painting lay exposed against a half-fallen wall to his right.
The figures on the portrait were scorched beyond recognition.
An idea formed and Vesper pulled out his knife, cut the canvas around
the edge, rolled and folded it, and slid it down the back of his shirt.
It was uncomfortable but hidden.
Hidden from the Throughway by the remains of the house, Vesper leaned down and
grabbed a piece of charred wood. He rubbed the charcoal over his face and
arms. He picked up ash and tossed it above his head, letting it fall
into his hair.
Finally, he found a floor covered in ash.
She lay down and rolled in it.
As he stood up, he grabbed a handful and rubbed even more into his knees and
shirt.
Looking like someone that had survived or fought the fires in the Lower Quarter,
Vesper started back to the Upper Quarter.
The merchant guards practically turned up their nose at his sad appearance and let
him through without issue. On the other side, the guards looked alarmed and
asked his business.
He replied that he was from the Outer Fields and visiting his family in the
Flats when the fire started.
He fought the fires and resisted the merchants rounding up his family, but
in the end, he escaped into the flames.
"I survived, but I fear my family has not.
They are still gone, and they have nothing to return to."
Vesper then added with bitterness in his voice, "Nothing!"
The guards looked aghast. Offering their condolences, they allowed him to
pass.
He made the long walk to the Golden Wand, where he was friends with the
proprietor and where he had a room under a long-term rental as one of
his base of operations. The Upper Triangle seemed unchanged from
his previous visits.
Huge houses, smooth cobblestones, and meticulous
landscaping.
Being remote from the Flats and the Lower Quarter certainly lessened the possibility
of unrest over the blatant display of wealth.
The public good centerpiece of the Upper Quarter was the library, but no one ever
visited it. Certainly no one from the Lower Quarter.
His last visit was to assassinate the son of the captain of the Shipwrights.
He was skimming money from the accounts, and Orion was considered too
simple-minded to notice. A vicious assassination would raise the
specter that he had gotten on the wrong side of those he was dealing with, which would remove
Orion's problem without anything indicating he was involved.
As he approached the Golden Wand, Vesper had to admit he liked the creature
comforts of wealth and the easy humor of those that had attained it.
The Golden Apple was full of bravado and gutter humor, and slaps on the back.
The Golden Wand had plush chairs and fine wine, while the humor was of gentle
mockery and wordplay.
Even the inn itself was built on humor.
The owner, a friendly chap named Thomas, regaled Vesper about the odd
name of the inn and the stories behind it.
Mounted above the bar was a thin piece of wood, which Thomas had placed in a
glass case.
The wood was set upon a bed of silk.
Everyone knew the story. "That is the magical wand of the very last guildmaster
of the magic guild,"
Thomas exclaimed. One of the patrons replied in a droll voice,
"If it's magic, why don't you use it to make yourself less ugly?"
Such conversations happened whenever a new patron entered the bar at the front
of the inn, always countered by some dry mockery by the regulars.
Vesper liked the tale. Of course, magic wasn't real, and the idea
of a magic guild was ridiculous.But it
was a fun story, and it gave the inn not just character but a sense of fun
too, which made it all the more popular in the Upper Quarter.
Vesper stood at the front door. He had a mission from Allard.
He had a mission from Orion. It was not too late for him to turn around.
This would be the last chance for him to change his path.
If he entered and told his story, he had no doubt that the word would spread among the
powerful rich patrons of the Wand, and with it would be a major setback
for Orion and a clear commitment of Vesper to the Thieves Guild.
Vesper looked to his left across the Golden Triangle, the Ash Fields
and the mountain in the distance. Standing resolutely and towering over
all should be the Thieves Tower, but he could not see it.
Maybe magic does exist, and it is hiding the tower,
Vesper thought.
Putting that absurd thought out of his head, Vesper walked through the front door.
As the door closed, a loud voice from inside called out-
"My gods, Vesper,
what has happened to you?"
(dramatic music)