Fable - Ask A Rock and a Hard Place

[William de Courcey]

William limped down the street.

His body ached all over and there was still blood coming from his nose. It wasn't his first beating but they never got any easier. Remi's gang weren't exactly experts but an amateur with stamina was almost as bad. He wheezed, hoping that the pain didn't mean any broken ribs. Fingers shaking, he made sure all of his teeth were intact. He wasn't the most handsome man in Alliria but he could be vain when he wanted to be.

It hadn't taken much to overpower him. Remi had brought four thugs with him and they'd caught him coming out of a shop. He'd been careless. If he'd seen them coming then he could have taken to the rooftops and legged it, postponing the inevitable but at least he wouldn't be feeling like tenderised meat. Remi was the local boss for the couple of blocks around here and he had enough gorillas to ensure any other honest thieves paid up on the regular for the privilege of living there.

Of course with typical luck they happened to be in a street Sissy claimed too. Sissy by name but not by nature, she had a nasty streak as bad as Remi's. Which meant their own particular group ended up caught in the middle. It was no good telling Remi you'd paid Sissy or vice versa, you'd just get your head kicked in.

Their current domicile was a few rooms rented behind a tannery. The smell lingered everywhere and the furnishings were basic but at least the price was cheap. Any valuables were kept well hidden and it stopped them from being robbed more than once a month. The last amateur burglar had learnt a lesson when Wren caught him at the window. He'd also had to learn to walk again with his legs broken after the fall.

He caught himself at the door before stepping in, remembering to kick off the muck a bit from his boots. He didn't need Inari in his ear about spreading filth all over the floor. Not when he actually had news and was craving a drink. He shoved in against the door, it always needed a bit of a kick, and stepped inside.

William limped towards the nearest chair and gingerly sat down, trying to avoid whacking any of the more sensitive spots. "Met Remi in the street" he said, touching at a fat lip with a wince. "Says he wants his money before the end of the month. Says we might be all getting a limb broken if we don't pay. Says we're lucky he even lets us work in this part of the city"

He groaned and let his head drop for a moment. "Can someone get me a cloth or something? I can't get my nose to stop bleeding".

 

[Varo]

Eighty three hours and twenty two minutes.

That was how long it would be until the next full moon. That was how long it would be until he once again felt his bones snap and his muscles tear. That was how much it would be until he murdered yet another innocent man or woman.

Fingers tightened around the pocket watch in his hand, curling around the last symbol of what he had once been.

A breath filled his lungs just as the clatter of William entering through the door rang out. His head immediately shot up, eyes narrowing and hand reaching towards the small blade at his side until he recognized the shambling figure.

He looked at his associate, a scowl pulling at his lips. "Fuck."

Varo said with a shake of his head, looking at the state of his friend for a moment before he reached back behind the makeshift bar they'd set up in the tannery. His hand roamed for a minute, grabbing a cup filled with ale and stepping over towards William.

"Fuck does Remi know?" Varo said as he walked the drink over to his companion, "Bastard can barely count."

The words were all bluster of course, as they always were. Varo knew how to talk, knew how to weave a tale, but the fact was they were in deep. If they didn't come up with some money soon they would be fucked, and they all knew it.

 

[Wren Kingsley]

Boredom was a dangerous thing, particularly for Wren. She was far from home, fretting about her sisters whilst knowing all the same that they'd be safer without her. This was 'laying low' - being somewhere where people didn't know her face, where it wasn't plastered on walls and posts, where bounty hunters and the city watch weren't scouring the city surroundings for her. In true Wren fashion she had managed to get herself into a spot of bother some weeks ago, and so after the usual battle with her own pride that came with that 'strong independent woman' mentality - she found herself a group. There was safety in numbers and all that.

Thunk.............Thunk................Thunk.........
​

She'd worn a crater of splintered wood in the wall with her throwing blades, currently reclining in a chair with her feet propped up on a barrel. As the door was battered open, she too tightened her grip on the last of her knives and sat up to shift her focus to the battered man as he shuffled in and announced the cause of his imbrued condition.

"For fuck's sake." Wren scorned quietly, and threw the blade with a louder thunk into the wall with the rest before getting to her feet. She found a cloth, dunked it in a bucket of stale water and wrung it out before throwing it rather unceremoniously at the bleeding fool with a shake of her head.

"Well I'm sick of voicing my opinion on the matter. Same fucking story over and over." she drew her eyes from him and turned to collect her knives, and flop back down into her chair. Wren was never quiet about her thoughts, she was vocal, she was insulting, and she didn't give a single fuck. She also despised authority, she hated bullies and most men. So Remi sat on the top tier of her prick list. Wren didn't lie down to it, she fought against it, and she never agreed with 'paying' people a penny of her earnings to work anywhere - she didn't do it at home, and here was no different.

"But whatever.. the fuck do I know?..Just let him beat you again next month, or maybe Sissy will have her lads get you first. Keep the mystery alive." she waved her hands in the air theatrically.

Thunk...

 

[Irari]

The ledger under her quill moved as a door slammed closed below, the ink blotted, and she lost yet another page to her careless roommates. Irari made a noise in the back of her throat, setting the quill aside as she tugged on her long ears in frustration.

She dabbed at the stain with a furrow in her brow, though it felt as fruitless as trying to conjure rent coin out of thin air. A feat she had somehow accomplished regardless, for three months in a row, stretching their coppers as thin as only her fine sophistry with accounts would allow.

Leaving the parchment to dry, the slip of a woman stood and made her way down the rickety old stairs connecting the two floors of their cramped home.

She raised her brows at his swelling eye and lip as she sat down across from William, still rubbing dry ink from her fingertips. “Go ask Carnach for his hide ointment,” she murmured, the annoyance in her voice replaced by concern.

“Varo,” she glanced away from her bruised burglar, mahogany eyes settling on the redhead, “any news from your contact in the House of Silks?”

People spilled their secrets best at the edge of sleep, contented and placated by the clever touch of a whore. And with a little coin, over a drink and a rakish smile, just as many of them were eager to pay these whispers forward.

Truth was, though, they could not afford to be picky. Just about any job they could scrape together now would do. Irari put on a brave front, but her real ledger – the one in her head – did not lie. His death had left them stranded at sea, shipwrecked and drowning without direction, protection, and resources.

She sighed, borrowing a long sip from William’s cup. There was an idea at the back of her mind. She didn’t like it, and that meant no-one would.

But if they pulled it off, Remi and Sissy would be the ones paying protection coin next month.

 

[Jace]

"Dinner. Is. Served!"

* * *​

Unlike William, Jace had made the wise decision of sticking to the rooftops that fateful night. It hadn't truly been a decision, rather a need to escape the lodgings he had been pilfering from through an exit that wasn't where the pie maker had been entering, but he wouldn't let that little bit of information get in the way of smug satisfaction that came from having six piping hot pies stuffed under his jacket. The smell rising from his chest was he strolled casually along the rooftops reminded him of nights where he had gone with nothing. His skills at the age of six had won him stale pieces of bread of bits of cheese that had lain in rain gutters for enough hours to somehow leak the flavour out of it. At least what Petyr had taught him would mean he would never be hungry again, which was not the same that could be said for apprentices of honest trades.

A girl had once asked him if he ever felt guilty for what he took as she laughed over his attempts at unsubtle seduction. The truth was, he didn't. Nobody had offered him help when his mother had died in that single cot in her own sweat and urine. The landlord had had the body removed then dumped him onto the streets with a pat on the head and a chuckle to take care of himself. Nobody had offered him help when he was on the street and struggling to find food or shelter. Nobody had offered him anything. It was Petyr who had taught him that an honest life would get you nowhere in life. Dishonesty was the way things were truly run.

It was unusual for him to dwell on such things but despite his bravado and dedication to vengeance, Jace still hurt at losing the only person who he could remember caring for.

He shoved all of it aside as he kicked open the door to his current lodgings though and plastered on his lopsided grin.

* * *

"Dinner. Is. Served!" ​

With a flourish he opened his jacket to reveal the stack of meaty pies but then he caught the feel of the room and paused mid swish. The smile faltered and he straightened. "Why the long faces?"

 

[William de Courcey]

"He knows enough counting when it comes to money" William said but he gave a grateful sigh as the ale was brought to him Varo "Thanks". He pinched the bridge of his nose to try and stop the blood while taking a hefty gulp of alcohol.

He winced as a sodden rag got tossed into his lap. Wren had her customary ugly expression on her face but he was feeling ballsy enough to answer back. "Well it might be you next time!" he shot back though that was going to be unlikely enough. More probably was the Watch reporting a man found dead with several stab wounds or floating in one of the canals.

He jumped a little as he noted Irari's presence, she was even more soft-footed than he was. She sat opposite him, making him lower his hand so she could examine his face. Keen eyes took in his injuries and she did show honest concern. "I will" he said meekly, not even protesting as she took a long sip on his ale. He knew that look she had, it meant she was plotting something.

He screwed his eyes shut as the door was kicked in. Jace skipped inside with all the joy of a magician on stage. William glared at him, still clutching the wet rag to his nose. "You didn't meet Remi then? Or Sissy? They're in limb breaking moods"

 

[Varo]

Varo took half a step further away from Wren, deciding it was best not to test her patience while William poked at her side.

"The Silks?" He echoed Irari's question as he walked around the table his injured friend was sitting at and pulled down a chair. There was a muted wooden creak as he pulled the seat free, flopping down in it.

A hand ran across his beard in thought. "Madame Jeunet has been less than forthcoming lately."

The House of Silks was a brothel of course, one that was rather popular with the upper crust of Alliria. Rich Merchant's and visiting nobles often visited the girls there, most of them simply looking for a good time. All of them spilled their secrets of course. What they were shipping, who they were meeting, that sort of nonsense.

Varo had gotten in good there in his first week in Alliria.

Unlike most patrons he hadn't paid any coin, but had instead used his...charms to weasel his way into the good graces of the madam. Flora Jeunet was as fierce as she was beautiful, and when she did not want to talk it was best not to press.

"I think..." He ran a hand through his hair. "She's feeling the same squeeze we are."

Varo would not have to explain that. "But...one of the girls did tell me something interesting. An Anirian visiting the city, rich enough that he rented out half a wing at Silks."

 

[Wren Kingsley]

Venomously green eyes glared at William in a way that made a verbal answer absolutely irrelevant. No, it would not be her next. Wren was excellent at evading and even better with knives, but she held onto some other tricks that she had so far managed to keep to herself. She'd learned to be more careful with her abilities, it brought her more trouble than it kept her from, but it also armed her with an air of confidence (pun intended) to know that even unarmed, she could handle herself.. Her gaze remained fixed on that bleeding face of his as she threw her next blade with a scrape of steel and the perpetual thunk as it slammed into the wood against the last. She wasn't in the mood for his 'ballsy' retort.

"It's a few bruises and a bloody nose, Irari, he'll live." she murmured and let her focus shift back to her target, and she had lifted another blade, ready to flick it when the door burst open and she about jumped out of her skin. The blade found purchase in the floor instead, her face drawn in a rictus of rage as she shot Jace a look of incredulity.

"Can we all stop kicking that FUCKING DOOR?!" she barked and followed it up with a growl as she rubbed at her face.

Varo’s information caught her attention and she shifted her gaze to him, pushing herself from her chair and joining them at the table to reach for William’s ale. “Go on..” she pressed and took a long drink. The filthy rich Anirian sounded like exactly the sort of bastard Wren took pleasure in relieving of their coin, valuables and dignity.

She shoved William’s cup back to him with a smirk now that it was empty, and she cast a glance over Jace. “We getting a cut of that or what?..”

 

[Irari]

For all her attempts to instill order, the household always devolved into chaos at first opportunity. Irari closed her eyes against the noise as Wren and William began bickering beside her ear. Varo, at least, did his valiant best to answer her question as he joined them at the table. But even his clear voice was drowned out as the door nearly flew off its hinges again, Jace following in its wake with pomp and pastry. Irari raised her gentle lilt to be heard over the noise when everything finally screeched to a halt.

“Can we all stop kicking that FUCKING DOOR?!”

Irari winced and stood to help Jace unload the stolen pies onto the counter. “Wren has a point,” she said, brushing the crumbs off his shirt and straightening out his coat, “although she could stand to make it at a more reasonable volume.”

She sent a pointed look at the woman and her habit of knifing the wall. With how rotted those planks were already, they didn’t need any more help in falling apart.

“Varo, you were telling us about the rich Anirian?” The tidbit about the squeeze she filed away, quietly slotting it into the plot she was weaving in the back of her mind. It would do rather nicely, indeed.

 

[Jace]

A barrage of indignant, angry and - bless Irari - more measures words were thrown his way after entering. His eyes flickered from one to the other to keep up with it all before simply hanging his head like a kicked puppy and shuffling to the table to set out the food. Not that he wanted to share now.

Why don't they get their own stupid pies.

Yeah, that would show them. He snatched up his pastry delight and slunk off to sulk by the window. Despite his height his skinny frame made it easy enough for him to fold himself up into the small space where he proceeded to stuff his face. Gravy poured down his chin and he let out a quiet groan of bliss as he swallowed the steak and ale combination. Nobody made pies like Todd.

"'Ave ymf benf ou' 'orinf agaimf?" He smirked around a mouthful of pie at Varo with all the jealousy of a young lad who couldn't wait for women to see him as sexy not cute.

 

[Varo]

Varo looked at Jace with disgust for a moment, wondering if anyone had ever thought to teach the boy any manners. Lips thinned for a few seconds, his head slowly turning back towards William and the blood still on his lip.

Head shook as he regarded irari. "I've been out getting more than pies."

Giselle had been the one to let slip about the man. His head had been in her lap and she'd been petting his hair, talking about this and or that until she'd let slip about the excitement of everything since the man had shown up at the brothel.

Varo had tried not to act too interested, mostly to keep her talking.

Madame Jeunet would have been furious if she knew Giselle had spilled her tongue.

She was protective of her girls, and of course of Varo himself. She gave him and the gang jobs often enough, but usually only the ones that she deemed 'safe'. Less control when someone like Giselle told her.

"Not a noble, but rich as all fuck." He explained. "In town for some business with Merchant Councilor Allurim."

A shrug carried over his shoulder. "Brought a chest with him, keeping it at the Old Thalir Bank."

That was all Giselle had told him.

 

[William de Courcey]

Mercifully, Jace's arrival distracted Wren from threatening William and got all of her attention. He tensed though as she marched over the table, snatching his ale and downing it with a satisfied gulp. A smirk was on her face as she dumped the tankard back on the table.

Despite all the roaring and shouting, it was sort of reassuring. This was what he was used to though he might have swapped out one or two of them. He stayed quiet, almost enjoying the bickering while Irari tried to settle them. He winced at another stab of pain but his eyes shot open at Varo's last words.

"Old Thalir Bank? As in, shoot intruders on sight, give the bodies to the watch Old Thalir Bank?"

Certain places got a reputation. With a thriving thieving underworld in Alliria, certain businesses had adopted harsher measures. "The last thief that got caught there looked like a pincushion"

 

[Wren Kingsley]

It had never been a secret that Wren did not particularly like men - particularly when they spoke down to her, argued with her, or laughed at her expense. It took a lot for her to find any sort of common ground with people in general, but men and their entitled ways only ever served to piss her off. But whether she admitted it or not, whether they bickered or not, their little group wasn't the worst, which was a decent compliment coming from her.

If it'd been one of the boys who'd told her to sort out her volume or cast the glare over the state she'd made of the rotting wall she'd have been out of her chair ready for a punch up, but Irari found no such response. She huffed quietly and rolled her eyes, giving her the look of a stroppy teen, but there was the slightest shrug of acceptance as she reached for her food. Her gaze lifted as she ate, seeking out the sulking Jace to offer a small smile in gratitude for the meal.

"I've been out getting more than pies."

And the feminist scowl was back, her head shaking as she slammed a knife into a chunk of steak, her teeth grinding against the steel as she at it from the blade as she listened and considered the heist. As usual though, William was complaining and an over dramatic sigh tumbled from her lips as she blinked tiredly at him.

"Honestly man. Snip your sensitive little bollocks off, and grow a fucking vagina." she pointed the blade at him, the slightest of smirks tugging at the corner of her lips.

 

[Irari]

Old Thalir Bank.

Well.

There was something to be said for ambition, and a ragtag band though they were, down on their luck and rudderless since… At any rate, they were more than ambitious enough to set their sights on the oldest bank in town.

Pulling it off, though… they would need the grace of more than one god.

Irari chewed thoughtfully on her mouthful of mince pie from her newfound perch on the old bar. It was the only way she could look at the whole gang without craning her neck sore.

“So,” she began, with all the sparkling charisma of an accountant. “We have a rich Anirian merchant who’s in town to meet with the Merchant Council, and he’s stored his bargaining chips in the Old Thalir vault.”

Irari counted off on her fingers, casting her gaze about the room. “We also have Remi and Sissy breathing down our necks, we desperately need new lodgings, and we still don’t know who murdered Petyr.”

“I believe, ladies and gentlemen, that we have ourselves a situation we can exploit.” Slipping off the counter, the tiny woman clasped her hands together in a rare show of excitement. “William, I need you to rest up, so you’ll just be doing the groceries and asking around in the market. Varo, you’re the only one who can get close to the Council halls – put an ear to the ground there and see if you can’t find more about the timeline and purpose of the Anirian visit.

“Jace, I need your eyes and ears on the rooftops around Thalir, but keep your distance,” she fixed him with serious eyes, waiting until he put down the pie and met her gaze, “we don’t want them suspecting anything, and, more importantly, we don’t want you dead. Count their patrols and patterns, and anything else you can make out about the external security besides. Wren, you’ll shadow Remi’s thugs to see how they like to break limbs and then do it to Sissy’s bastards when they’re alone. They can entertain each other while we run this job. Just… don’t let anyone see you.

“I’ll have a chat with the rest when they get home. If you need coin, find it on the way because we have nothing. If you have questions, I’ll be upstairs, putting this mess together.”

 

[William de Courcey]

William's protests to Wren died rather quickly as she pointed her blade at him. He'd seen how quick she was with them. That and her inch of a height advantage that she could make seem like ten at times. He had to settle for grumbling under his breath.

Irari got their attention though. For such a petite woman, she could command immense respect. The faun had more wits than the rest of them put together and she'd shown them that they were stronger together rather than working alone. She also was possessed of much needed maturity that tempered the younger hotheads in their gang.

He tried not to preen as she told him he was to rest though it was spoilt by the instructions to run errands and do the groceries. The others were each matched to the task she felt they were best suited for. It felt good to have a plan, it felt better to see the light at the end of the tunnel. It felt bad to be reminded they had absolutely no coin left.

"Understood" he said meekly. Irari didn't sound hopeless, maybe they would get out of this in one piece. "I think I'll have a meat pie now"

 

[Varo]

Varo nodded his head.

He could blend into the Inner-City fairly well, though he would have to dig out his nice clothes if he didn't want the Watch to shoo him away almost immediately. Fingers tightened for a moment as he looked out of the window.

Three days wasn't a long time to plan and do a job, but it was all they had before he would have to disappear for a night or two. "Irari."

He said quietly.

"Don't have much time, yeah?" Not everyone in the gang knew of his...ailment, but Irari did at least. He had thought it prudent to at least tell the woman making the plans, and she had been surprisingly...accepting.

That fact had earned his loyalty, at least a bit. Before anyone had time to question he went on. "Allurim mostly deals at the Waywatcher club, I can get in there and take a listen."

 

[Jace]

Jace swallowed his mouthful of pie with an audible gulp when Irari fixed him with a pointed stare. She might have been the nicest one there but that didn't mean he wouldn't rather pluck his own eye out than get on her wrong side. And there might have been a few times where he had indeed gotten into trouble for getting distracted by a pretty face, but he usually came through. 9/10 of the times anyway. Alright,

7/10 of the times.

"I'm always careful, luv," he threw her a disarmingly adorable boyish grin that brought out his dimples, then unfurled himself from his spot on the window ledge. He had been tired on his way here but the idea they might be getting on the right track to discovering who it was who had killed Petyr... Jace knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. Might as well put his new found energy to good use. So with a two fingered salute the boy swaggered back out the door.

Making sure he closed it quietly behind him.

 

[Wren Kingsley]

She'd never been one for following direction. She rebelled against the crown and the law, against her parents, and she was the oldest of three sisters. But Irari? The faun knew what she was doing. Had it been a man dishing out orders she'd admittedly have been a little more resistant, but Irari's ability to command a room and contrive plots out of thin air had earned her Wren's respect.

She rested her chin atop her fist as she watched the woman arrange, a half smirk painted on her lips as she received her own instruction. "Break some legs... Got it." she mused and patted the table as she looked to William.

"See, now we're getting somewhere." she flashed him a grin and reached to grip his hand. "Don't you worry poppet, you rest up, I'll get those mean men who hurt you." she pouted. She wasn't sure she'd ever tire or tormenting him. She had absolutely no issue with being landed with the most violent of tasks, at least it wasn't as boring as collecting groceries.

To Varo she smirked and rolled her eyes as she stood from the table, leaning over his shoulder to murmur by his ear. "One of these days, I'll get to enjoy the whore house whilst you do some actual work.." she smirked with a pat on his back before she moved on to Jace with a laugh under her breath at the heartbreaking grin.

"Seriously though, be careful...Thanks for lunch." she muttered and reached to tousle his hair and shove gently at his head as she passed him to head upstairs.

 

[Varo]

Was Wren coming on to him? It definitely felt like Wren was coming on to him.

Giselle did the shoulder, lean, whisper thing all the time. Usually she said something more sensual, but he was pretty sure for Wren that was sensual. His lips thinned for a moment, and he decided that she probably just had too much to drink.

Had to push down that rage somehow.

Varo looked down at the ground for a few moments, considering if he should banter something back, but then decided not to. Instead he pushed himself back from the table and stood up, glancing at Irari before regarding William.

"When you're finished taking a nap meet me at the corner of The Tilted Ogress, yeah?" It was a tavern in the Inner-City. "Try not to have any mud on you either."

He could listen, but a planned formed in his head of something even better.

 

[Irari]

She canted her head in a subtle nod at Varo, their eyes meeting for a moment in understanding. It was good of him to take William with – if this job ran longer than they planned for, and he had to take a break for his country retreat, someone would need to know enough to take up the slack.

Putting away the chairs and the tankards, Irari kept busy as she watched them file out one after another, melting away into the crowds of the greatest city of the known world. She wiped her hands in a rag with a sigh, casting a gaze about the empty space. Tidy enough. There was a layer of innate grime in these parts that you couldn’t scrub off if you spent all day on your knees with a steel brush.

It would have to do.

Back in her room, Irari bound her hair with a thin ribbon and did up the long sleeves of her tunic. Kneeling on the creaking floorboards, the faun pulled aside a plank to reveal a plain metal box. It had no visible lines, no locks nor tumblers – just six flat iron sides. A brilliant work by their tinkerer, so finely engineered you would think it magic if you didn’t know better.

Her lips pulled into a slow smile as she bid it open regardless, and set to laying out the tools of her trade onto the desk.

Well.

Her other trade.

Five weights of paper and parchment. Water-stamps. Seals – three of them for the Merchant Council, and five for each of the great banking houses. Letter wax in six colours. Four pigment powders and a number of solutions to mix her final ink.

It was the quill she chose last, dark eyes studying their fine feathers as she ghosted her fingertips along the shape of them.

Now to forge an Old Thalir vault deed.

 

[William de Courcey]

William could actually tolerate angry violent Wren better than mock concern teasing Wren. He managed to wrench his hand from her grip while her face twisted in a pout of concern, her words dripping with sarcasm. He kept his mouth shut though, he'd been hit enough today.

He nodded at Varo's words and lurched to his feet, "I'll be there later" he promised before limping and staggering towards the stairs, hauling himself up for it. His mattress was singing a song he couldn't resist and he was going to put some ointment on before collapsing and letting rest take away some of the aches.

 

[Jace]

Nobody took notice of a dirty, lanky kid in the streets of Alliria.

The poor were a dime a dozen and if patrols stopped to inspect every one of their shrewd little faces they would never complete a circuit. It was such a universally acknowledged truth that Jace had got it down to a fine art now in his 18th year. He started on the streets themselves; even if kids being a pain were common not many of them sat up on the rooftops unless they were doing something suspicious in the middle of the day. It was rather a dull job, patrol counting, which was probably why he found his eyes and fingers wandering to unsupervised pockets and stalls throughout the day.

Along his walks - because it would be stupid to stay in one place all day - he came across the usual faces. Billy the Snitch, Cress the Bloody-Noser, Old Broken Nose. They nodded to one another in the way compatriots usually did before quickly scuttling on with their own targets. What was unusual, he thought to himself the second time he noticed Henry Shank by the door way opposite the vaults, was that it was all Sissy's agents hanging about this section of the city.

At night Jace found one of his favourite spots to continue his watch. It was pissing it down with rain so hard it bounced right off his thin leather coat. The cold seeped deep into his bones until he thought he would never be able to uncurl himself from his position and wondered idly if that was how gargoyles had originally started off.

Irari wouldn't send Will or Varo to do a shitty job like this... s'cause they see me as just some kid... He scorned to himself throughout the night. Anger was a flame that kept him warm till sunrise where he watched for another hour more before calling it a day.

He would have been back to the safehouse pretty promptly if it hadn't been for a certain lovely pair of legs that had caught his attention. Unfortunately for Jace it was only a wounded bit of pride and a clip around the head that had his ear ringing that was all he had to show for the efforts. It was no surprise that he was in a foul, sulky temper when he trapesed back in in his sodden rags.

"I ain't doin' tha' a again d'yer hear?!" he threw his coat off and then untied the pitiful scarf about his neck to wring it out. "I ain' ah kid, tired o' doin' the shit fuckin' watchin' jobs," he folded his arms and sat heavily down in a chair that barely creaked in protest. The force of his words were somewhat tempered by the fact he sat shivering like a lost lamb in his shirt.

 

[Varo]

Varo stepped through the side door of the safehouse with a beaming smile on his face.

The jacket he wore now was somehow nicer than the one he had left with, and despite the rain it smelled vaguely of a pleasantly scented tabacc. There was a pipe stem sticking out from one side of his jacket, and a bottle of wine was cradled in his left hand.

"Hello my fellows!" Varo called chirpily, looking around the room to see who had returned.

To his complete lack of surprise he saw Jacen sitting at one of the tables, soaked and looking as though he had been dunked into sea. A grimace flickered across his shoulders for a few seconds, but he stepped over and deposited the bottle of wine in front of the lad. "Have a sip."

He told him cheerily, clearly slightly drunk.

"I'd like to report complete and utter success, as well as the fact that we're all going to be filthy fucking rich." Varo said, not even pondering the fact that William probably should have made it back before him. "I know whats in that chest."

 

[Artemis]

The assassin perched quietly in one of the few dark corners of the lit-up safe house. Barley and hops filled the air and tickled her nose. Eyes like dull moons shifted between the shadows beyond the window outside and those who were gathering. She'd been betrayed by her own guild long ago and found herself with a new group.

Not new anymore.

A slight wince across her face at Varo's booming and cheerful voice. Slender fingers tightened around a dagger in her hand before sheathing it. Artemis was probably the most stoic and quiet member of the group. Varo often tried to get her mask to break. To make her smile or show some sort of emotion.

He failed every time.

"There are a...significant number of sentires between us and that chest."

The assassin did not speak often but found it good to curb Varo's enthusiasm with reality. Even if she could kill them all.

 

[William de Courcey]

If Jace was upset then William was incandescent with rage.

The door was kicked in despite standing orders being to the contrary. William couldn't help being a bit immature and sulky right now. The figure that came in through the door was sopping wet and looked like something that crawled out of a bog. It added to the puddles left by Jace traipsing in through the door ahead of him.

Jace had been soaked by the rain but William had escaped near drowning in one of the canals. A shaking hand was pointed at Varo "You bastard" he declared flatly. "You said to cause a distraction...you bloody dropped me right in it. Why did you shout for guards after telling me to pickpocket that rich wan in the tavern?"

He sneezed, a wretched sound. He'd managed to avoid being caught in the chaos by diving out a half open window before some well wishes brained him with a chair or chibbed him.

Unfortunately it seemed like Alliria was full of do-gooders today. He'd set a new land speed record but the guards had stuck with him doggedly. They must have been new to show such dedication to their jobs. He'd jumped from a shed roof to try and reach a boat but misjudged and landed in the canal. Clambering onto the gondola, the proprietor had nearly taken his head off swinging an oar. He'd a few new bruises on his back before he fell back into the water.

"I've had half the polis after me. I've had to double back twice already to throw them off my tail and then nearly got brained in the head by some gondola owner. What was all that!?"

He dragged a chair over near Jace and the miserable excuse for a fire. He was shivering uncontrollably and he squelched with every movement.