Den of Thieves

Reaching the door to Carr’s chambers the lead henchman takes a burning torch from the tunnel wall. He enters the room to light torches inside.

Waiting until the first inner torch is lit Marten steps in and to the right allowing Carr to enter. Glar comes in last closing the door behind, leaving the second henchman to keep watch in the tunnel.

“Wow,” Carr turns about marveling at the lavishly furnished room.

A queen-sized canopy bed sits central in the space. Around the bed several animal pelts carpet the floor. Single drawer nightstands flank the bed, with brass candle lamps sitting on top. Tapestries of different Kingdom’s crests line the walls. Matching the nightstands, a grand armoire stands against the back wall. To Carr’s left is a nice highly polished marble table, with four carved high back chairs around it. Past the table against the wall a writing desk with several books lining its back.

Seeing some parchments on the desk Carr points to it, “would you like me to get started?”

Marten pulls out one of the high back chairs to sit in, “please if you could.”

“Sure,” Carr drops his pack on the bed. Removing his cloak suggests, “I’ll sit beside you, to explain as I go.”

In a rehearsed manor Marten says, “good idea.”

The scarred henchman places a few parchments along with a quill and ink well on the marble table.

“Thanks Crete,” Marten speaks to the henchman, “why don’t you sit down with us?”

Carr sits beside Marten drawing attention to the Dragon scale.

Studying the armor Crete pulls out a chair to Marten’s right side, “thank you sir.”

Glar quickly sits in the seat on Crete, “no, thank you.”

Sighing Crete takes the last seat at the table.

Grinning at Glar’s juvenile behavior Marten remarks, “never gets old does it.” Turning back to watch Carr, “that’s a unique choice in armor there. It’s a great choice for the woodlands. But how will you fair in the cities when all will see you coming?”

Carr defends the choice, “we all know the best paying jobs have little to do with civilization. Scholars and mages pay good money for lost items. Besides a good con man could wear sack or silk and get coin. Me, I’m not interested in the little stuff. The job and pay has to be worth the risk.” Smiling he starts drawing.

Marten can’t argue with that, “he’s right. That’s why we get to sit up in here getting wealthier.”

Grumbling Glar utters, “I should’ve went with Viltor. It’s been four years since I went out on a job.”

Drawing out the floors in the Public Affairs building Carr starts with the roof and how he got in. He tells them everything he found and where, in each of the floors all the way to the cellar. Keeping the story just as it was.

Beginning to have faith in Carr’s skills Glar comments, “if I was there, we would’ve had one of those chests. And be laughing about it right now.”

“Soon it really could be you,” Carr slides the parchments to Marten.

“Sure could,” Marten slides the drawings to Glar to look over, “now what about King Halford’s castle?”

“Alright,” Carr readies another parchment, “like I said I only saw so much.” Carr only describes what he saw on the main floor while drawing. Leaving out the secret passage that Cornelious the mage took him through.

Curious to actually see Carr in action Glar asks, “when do you want to go looking for your backpack?”

Continuing to draw Carr makes up a believable lie, “I was thinking in a couple more days. I was trading the goods I got from Halford in Lahfee, when I found out a patrol from Monsteil left a day before I got there. So, I went to Ingleside to get rid of the rest of my bulky goods. Got the horse and saddle there. While in the village a patrol showed up. So, I high tailed it east. Figuring they’d stay to the main roads, so I took to the forest. Spent a couple days hacking my way to the Cirran River. Followed it slowly north for a couple more days. That’s when I ran into Burt and his green crew.”

Being the guild master Marten inquires. “Did they try and rob you?”

“I faked them out,” Carr tells them his trick of hiding in the shadows.

Marten can’t believe them, “they walked past you and up to the horse and didn’t see that either?”

“No, it was dark that night,” continuing Carr tells them what happened next.

Laughing at their bad eyesight Glar shakes his head.

Marten starts roaring with laughter when Carr tells them they got scared and screamed like little girls running away to hug each other. That loosens up Crete getting him to chuckle along.

“Poor fools,” Carr notes, “I almost felt bad for them. They actually thought the horse was a ghost.”

Hearing that Glar laughs with a deep snort, releasing a long, snot from his nose. Casually wiping it away and onto his pants

Fighting back a tear of laughter Marten straightens up speaking with struggled breath, “that’s funny. I kinda hope Burt comes back. So, we can make fun of him.”

As the men are in good spirits Carr pushes it, “then when I stood up I scared them again.” He tries to imitate Toad, “It’s a ghost!”

That does it for Glar as he busts out laughing so hard tears roll down his cheek, “stop, stop, my belly aches,” clutching his belly and Crete’s arm.

Never before has anyone seen a Hobgoblin laugh so hard or cry.

Crete laughs as well but mainly at Glar.

Trying desperately to remain composed Marten takes a deep breath curiously looking at his fellow master thief, “I think Glar, you have been in here too long.”

Calming down but still chuckling Glar can only nod and point at Marten.

Getting back to the story Carr comments, “I figured they must’ve been somebody’s new guild members. And if they were still there, Darvel’s men couldn’t have been through. So, I was thinking they might be coming through soon and I didn’t want to be out in the open. The problem with Burt was he didn’t know what to do. Rob me, kill me or trust me.”

Marten points out. “They never reported seeing any of Darvel’s men. And those working the roads are suppose to report anything even if it’s routine.” Curious to what Cal said earlier, “tell me the young one said you beat them in a fight.”

“It was sticks at first,” Carr details the events around their camp up to putting Burt down.

Crete and Glar share similar thoughts, both wonder what it’d be like to take Carr on. Marten not a fighter is more interested in Carr’s potential and worth to the guild.

Having one last concern Marten is ready to get to it, “Carr I wanna be able to have trust in you. Most of your words seem to be true. But we have one more question for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Carr looks Marten in the eye, “what is it?”

Both, master thieves keep an eye on Carr gauging the reaction as Marten notes, “we found a sign of a past problem in your quiver, a single white feathered arrow.”

Carr’s expression doesn’t waver answering honestly, “Oh, that I plucked from an Orc in the river.”

“What?” Marten is thrown by the comment.

Carr thinks trying to recall his story, “I did mention the Orcs in the river. Didn’t I?”

“No,” Marten looks to Glar.

Glar shrugs, having heard plenty from the young male looks to Crete.

Surprised they are looking to him for an answer Crete recounts Carr’s story, “he said he spent two days in the forest, reaching the river. But no mention of Orcs.”

The room goes silent as they all think about it.

“Anyway,” Carr breaks the silence, “there were four dead Orcs floating in the river. I could only get to two of them. They were covered in those arrows. I was curious about the arrows, as I’ve never seen any like them. I figured them to be Elf made. I tried to take them out but they kept breaking apart like dry straw. That one I have is the only one that came out whole.”

The explanation makes sense to Marten, “they’re not from Elves. Do you know why they break apart so easy?”

Carr knows but says, “I figured they were some sort of hunting arrow. Since the shaft was made from a hollow reed, I thought they’d break up allowing blood to flow from the wound. So, they could be easily tracked and aid in their death.”

Carr’s thought seems logical and believable to the men.

Without intending a pun Glar remarks. “Something still doesn’t smell right. I get the feeling like you’re hiding something from us.”

Using Glarr’s words Carr responds with, “I didn’t want any one to know how I really got the skunky smell.”

Again, thrown by Carr’s response Marten inquires, “why, what really happened?”

Hesitating Car takes a breath before telling them about the encounter with the giant skunk.

Glar cuts in, “a thief robbed by a skunk, interesting.”

“It was after my rations,” Carr explains, “I tried to shoo it away.”

Marten surmises, “and it sprayed you.”

“Not right away,” Carr informs them, “it took off with my pack, so I gave chase. In the chase it released its’ stinky cloud.”

Able to see it happening Glar laughs, “and you ran into it.”

“Yup,” Carr tells them the rest of the story about chasing it until dawn. Where he ended its’ life.

“Em hmm,” Marten thinks aloud, “I’d be reluctant to tell such a tale too.”

Agreeing Glar laughs at Carr, “not only ripped off by a skunk, but skunked as well.”

“Ah, yeah,” checking his credibility with them Carr inquires, “was there, something else that concerns you?”

Carr is coming off candid enough Marten has some confidence in the boy’s character. “It was just that arrow. You see last month we had a problem here. A female ranger came here demanding the return of some piece of jewelry. She was told not everything stolen turns up here.” He knows exactly what she was seeking.

“That crazy bitch tried to fight her way in,” Glar relays, “insisting we had what ever it was she was looking for.”

Shaking his head at her attempt Marten continues, “I don’t think she counted on so many of us being here. Hell, all the part time members joined in. That was the most excitement we had here all summer. Well before Darvel sent his men here looking for you.”

Glar makes note, “she managed to kill eight men in the main entrance and wounded a dozen others. Severely out numbered she fled down the ravine on foot. Anyone who could, gave chase. She disappeared in the bog. Of course the men could only follow so far. It was suggested she maybe a Swanmay.”

Pretending not to know anything Carr queries, “what’s a Swanmaid?”

Mispronouncing her race aids Carr as Marten corrects him, “no, its’ Swanmay. They are a race of females with long life spans. Its’ said they can become swans.”

“Really?” Carr plays dumb well. “Bird women eh?”