The Thieves Guild
by Jake Kerr.
Episode 5:
The Guildmaster Merchant.
(dramatic music plays) It was evening, so the two of them had to wait at the front of the
Merchant Guild tower as its massive doors opened.
As befitting the most powerful guild in the city, the Merchant Guild
tower was the tallest and mightiest in Ness.
Although the Knight Guild compound was much larger than the Merchant Guild's, the Merchant
Guild tower dwarfed the Knights, which stood next to the great gate and
loomed over the entrance to the city.
Although he had not apprenticed to any guild, Raylan lived in the tower with his brother, so
the process of waiting for the great doors to open and walking the stone halls was a
familiar experience.
This time however, there was an ominousness to his arrival, as if the
giant maw of some monster was opening to consume him.
He rubbed his temples as the doors came to a stop.
His headache was thankfully starting to fade.
Raylan had tried to find out more about his fate as they exited the boat, but that was the
moment Karch's smile left his face. He hissed at Raylan to be quiet, and
he did, not wanting to risk a slap or to make his fate any worse than it
already was.
Although Raylan loved to insult and demean his brother's guild, he couldn't help but
feel awe every time he entered its tower, and this time was no
exception. He took note of the majestic main staircase, the marble under
his feet, the great tapestries at the landings, and the art that lined the walls
as they climbed to the sixth floor.
Karch led Raylan down a short hall to the polished and elaborately carved oak door
that marked his brother's office.
Karch rapped on the door twice, opened it, and then led him in.
The room was large. On one side was a bookcase behind a small table with two
chairs. It was full of similar looking books.
There were papers scattered on the table.
Across the room from the bookcase was a fireplace which was empty with the warm
spring weather.
Facing the door beyond a large, colorful rug was a formidable dark wood
desk with a massive window behind it.
The window presented a panoramic view of the north end of the city and the plains
beyond.
They stopped in front of the desk and stood waiting.
Raylan's brother sat behind it, his head down as he signed one document
after another. His hair was straight and fine and dark like Raylan's, although it
was thinning on top. And also like Raylan, Larson was thin and gaunt.
As he always did, Raylan noted, his brother looked serious.
His blue Merchant Guild robe hung on a stand next to the desk.
Raylan smiled. "Hello, Larson." Larson looked up at Raylan and raised his eyebrow, then
glanced at Karch and nodded. Karch turned and slapped Raylan hard across the face with the
back of his hand.
Raylan staggered backward and brought his hand up to his face.
He wasn't bleeding this time, but his headache returned with a fury.
"In this room, you are not to call me Larson, Lars, or even brother.
I am the Guildmaster Merchant, and you will treat me as such."
He peered at Raylan. "I'm sorry, sir."
Raylan bowed his head. He had lost count as to how many conversations with his
brother ended with those words. That this was how the conversation was beginning
did not bode well. "Much better." Larson folded his hands on the
desk and looked at Raylan. He smiled for a moment, then sighed.
He leaned back and ran his fingers through his hair.
"I tried so hard to provide you a future, Raylan.
An apprenticeship with the Councilmen, the shopkeepers, even with the White Guard."
He shook his head. "I can't even remember the number of opportunities I've presented to you."
At this, Larson slammed his fist on his desk (slams fist) .
"But you spat in my face at every step." Larson's face was turning red
and Raylan already knew that the best-case scenario for him was a thrashing and then
probably some time in the guild dungeon.
That Larson and Karch had something worse in mind chilled him.
"Your attitude and actions mock the very guilds that offered you a home,"
Larson continued, marking each point by stabbing his desk with his finger.
He then stood up, his chair nearly falling as it flew backward.
"Starting with this one."
Larson stared at him for a moment.
Raylan didn't move.
Larson clasped his arms behind his back and walked around the desk and over to him.
He took the fabric of Raylan's shirt between two fingers, rubbed them, then
pulled his fingers away as if he had touched the corpse of a diseased animal.
"The Brawn of the Guildless, Raylan.
Haven't you ever tired of people looking down on you, wondering why no guild would have you?"
Raylan remained quiet. He knew the question was rhetorical and his cheek
still hurt from his last show of independence.
Larson paused and smiled when Raylan didn't reply.
"What do you know of Guildmaster Pietro?"
It was a direct question, so Raylan answered.
"The Guildmaster thief?"
Larson nodded. "He seemed a good sport.
I got a few tomatoes through the protective cage during the last Founder's Parade and he just smiled at
me."
Raylan shrugged. "Ah yes, you take particular delight in abusing the Guildmaster thief,
do you not?" "It's the tradition." "Do you know why it's a tradition, my dear
brother?" Larson started to smile.Raylan didn't know where this was heading,
but he knew it wasn't going to end well.
So he just went with it in the hopes of getting any unpleasantness over with sooner
rather than later.
I don't know. Every profession needs a guild, so I guess that includes the Thieves.
Oh, it is much more than that, Raylan.
Larsen leaned back against his desk.
The thieves are the greatest plague of Ness.
They hide like rats in dark corners and alleys, only to come out and steal from all of the other guilds.
Do you know how much of a problem theft has become, brother?
Raylan shook his head.
Um, let me put it this way.
While you have been tossing things at the Guildmaster Thief out of childish joy, there are hundreds of
citizens taking out their anger at having lost their clothing, their food, their precious savings, their
entire lives to these vile thieves.
Larsen spoke the word "thieves" with a sneer on his face.
Returning to his seat behind his desk, Larsen added-
You called Pietro a good sport. How generous of you. Others feel the same way, I'm sure.
But should we not hate him?
Do you know why he exists,
why we allow this symbol of all we despise to live among us?
Raylan tried to figure out how to answer the question, but he had no idea what
answer his brother wanted.
I don't know. He walked around and people laughed at
him, and then he always took part in the Founder's Day Parade.
Raylan glanced at Karch for a hint as to how to answer,
but Karch stood by impassively.
I guess we make some poor sap the Guildmaster Thief, and he represents all the thieves
who are too cowardly to work in a real guild.
Exactly.
Larsen brought his hands together in a small clap.
He is a symbol, a symbol of everything we
in Ness abhor.
Unfortunately, the fact that everyone liked Pietro tells us that he wasn't the correct man for the
job.
We need someone irresponsible, someone young and without the respect that age provides, someone that
all the guilds can collectively despise.
His brother's intentions were suddenly clear.
Raylan's jaw dropped as Larsen continued.
My dear brother, I am so glad you understand.
As I'm sure you're aware, Guildmaster Pietro died several days ago and...
Larsen leaned forward, pointed at him, and whispered.
You are the new Guildmaster Thief.
Raylan didn't move as he tried to make sense of what his brother had just told him.
He thought of Guildmaster Pietro, who wandered around Ness in his black
robe, smiling at everyone and occasionally grabbing fruit off of produce stalls
in the market district, telling the merchants that he was, after all, the Guildmaster
Thief.
They would laugh and let him wander on without making him pay.
Everyone liked him, but no one took him seriously.
Raylan fought through the pain in his head and discovered the flaw in his brother's
plan.
Only guild members can vote for a new guild master.
You can't just name me the Guildmaster Thief.
No, I can't. But the council can.
Larsen waved his hand.
With time short before the Founder's Day Parade, and, well, let's be honest, no members in the Thieves'
Guild, it was prudent of us to take action right away.
And, after all, this is, as you so astutely noted, a symbolic position.
Larsen smiled again.
Uh, I should note that each guild master seemed particularly delighted in voting for you.
Uh, some even considered you overqualified.
Karch laughed. Larsen stood up.
I'm sure you are overwhelmed with gratitude, brother,
so I'll let Deputy Karch take you to your new quarters.
There is one more thing, sir.
Karch added.
Your brother needs to name a deputy.
Ah, yes. My brother gets an official stooge.
Raylan immediately thought of Rafe, but he was certain that Rafe would rather die than
be in a guild as hated as the Thieves.
What about the current deputy? Did Pietro even have a deputy?
Before Raylan could object, Karch spoke up.
That would be old Allard, a disgraced former member of the Knight Guild.
Karch shrugged.
He is universally loathed.
Larsen tapped his chin.
Oh, yes, I forgot about him. He always wears his hood up, looks like death in that awful black robe of theirs.
Larsen smiled.
Why, it is a perfect match, is it not? A disgraced former knight and a guild master that disgraces the
knights.
Larsen waved a hand.
Deputy Karch, let Allard know that, out of respect to Pietro, he will be retained as deputy.
In the meantime, take Raylan to the Guildmaster's quarters.
Raylan didn't know Allard, but he resented being told who to name as his
deputy.
What if I don't agree to take Allard on as my deputy?
Then I'll go to the council, and we'll make you take him as a tribute to Guildmaster Pietro.
Not even you are so stupid as to object to that.
Larsen's face had reddened a bit at Raylan's objection.
He waved his hand and then peered at Raylan, who could tell his brother's patience was wearing
thin.
Now get out of my sight and scurry down to your new quarters in the basement, Deputy.
You can't tell me what to do.
Larsen's jaw fell open at Raylan's words.
He stood up slowly from his desk, staring at Raylan with pure malice in his eyes.
What did you say?
Larsen asked through clenched teeth.
I'm a guild master.
Raylan nodded his head. Sure, he had been appointed to the most reviled and
unpopular position in Ness, but he was still a guild master.
Raylan's mind started to work through the possibilities.
If he was going to be humiliated, he would at least have fun in the process.
Larsen looked to Karch. Raylan turned and faced Karch before the deputy could act
or his brother could say anything.
And you'd better not strike a guild master.
I don't know the rules yet, but I'm sure that's not acceptable.
Larsen stared at Raylan for a moment and then spoke up.
I should have expected this. You were always too clever for your own good, brother.
He smiled.
Yes, you will find a few benefits to your new position,
but let's see how far your lack of respect gets you, shall we?
He sat back down in his chair and folded his hands.
In fact, Founder's Day is tomorrow. Let's see how well you enjoy sitting on your wagon having the citizens
hurl their garbage at you.
In fact, I believe I shall take part in the fun this year.
I may not throw as well as you, Raylan, but I at least will be the one doing the throwing.
Raylan tried to hide his horror at the thought of the Founder's Day Parade.
He had forgotten that he would be the one sitting in the wagon at the end of the parade,
protected by a cage while the population of Ness took their anger out on
him.
It may have been symbolic, but as Raylan knew, the thrown tomatoes and garbage were real.
He turned without saying anything and walked toward the door.
Karch raised his voice.
The guild master did not dismiss you.
Without stopping or looking back, Raylan exclaimed.
I am the guild master.
(instrumental music plays)