Private Tales The ELITE Thieves

[Jace]

"Aye boss," Jace materialised from the shadows as though he had been there for quite some time and Varo had simply not seen him. He was slouched against one of the large wooden beams that propped up the warehouses roof and allows for a balcony of sorts to run around the upper levels looking down on the lower, working ground floor. He had a pile of papers in his hand and was idly thumbing through them as though he could read them. In the end he tossed it down to Varo.

"Looked important, on the boss man's desk," then he hopped up onto the railing and began lazily walking along it as though there wasn't a 12 foot drop to the stone floor below. "I can't see the scrolls up 'ere. Wha' abou' down there?"

 

[Varo]

"Uh, no." Varo said as he caught some of the papers, thumbing through them real quick to see what they were.

It didn't take him long to understand what they were. From what he could tell it was shipping manifests. It spoke of things being delivered when and where, though of course some of the details had been left out for the sake of privacy.

He frowned for a brief moment as he saw one particular paper. "Shit."

Varo said quickly, then he motioned for Jace. His voice dropped down to a whisper, though in truth it was one of those quiet yelling tones that was hard to mistake.

"Jace get the fuck down here." He hissed. "Or in the dark. Or...just fucking hide!"

 

[Jace]

"Why? No-one's 'ere, mate! I checked!" Jace shouted back down without a care in the world. The alcohol was still coursing through his system and he was still riding the high of having won so much money. The weight of the eight bags he had managed to snag that night weighed heavy against his body. It was a comforting weight. It promised food, shelter, perhaps even a treat or two when he got back home.

His thoughts were on just how many new fancy knives he could buy and not on the urgency behind Varo's words. That was perhaps why he didn't see one shadow peel itself away from the main cluster and silently creep towards them.

"Loosen up an' check down there will ya?"

 

[Varo]

The door opened with a sudden slam, that silent shadow that had been outside clattering into the room at the head of a party of eight others.

Varo had already tucked himself behind a collection of barrels large enough to hide him, but Jace? Jace was on show for everyone to see carrying the bags they had come here to steal. The lead figure stopped in his tracks, eyes bugged and large.

He was a man of olive skin, a scimitar on his belt.

Behind him were a collection of finely dressed men, most of them carrying weapons of some sort. Varo could have marked some of them out as Sand Elves had he had clear sight, but he was hugging the barrels in an attempt to hide.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?"

 

[Jace]

Jace swivelled on the banister and nearly fell onto the work floor below. It would have put him directly in the path of the motley crew who were gawping up at him. Thankfully, he had the reflexes of a cat. A drunk cat, perhaps, but a cat nevertheless. He wobbled briefly but regained his balance and put his hands daringly on his hips, squinted down at the group below and then snorted.

"Who the fuck are you?" he retorted. The question did the intended and seemed to cause a brief, but valuable, moment to run. Jace was no fool even when full of alcohol. He was no brawler and he wasn't particularly skilled at fighting. Petyr had always told him to pick his fights and a eight vs. two drunk lads seemed a pretty unfair fight. Like a flash, he was off and out the window through which he had come.

 

[Varo]

Varo was looking down in gaping horror of course, knowing that Jace was likely utterly fucked in this scenario.

As soon as Jace rushed off the men who had entered into the warehouse were after him like wolves. They were fast, faster than they should have been by any human means. Varo watched from his little hiding spot as they darted and jumped up.

His eyes bugged as he watched them, the man who had shouted continuing his raised voice.

"FIND HIM! BRING HIM THE FUCK BACK!"​

All those around him scrambled to follow the order, quickly rushing out toward the window that Jace had just fled through.

When Varo and the man were the only ones left in the warehouse he slowly stood, creeping forward and towards the stranger.

 

[Jace]

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Jace swore under his breath as he took off down the street. Him and his big mouth. One of these days it would really get him into trouble; but not this day.

He could hear his pursuers shouting behind him calling for him to stop or for others in the street to lay their hands on him. He was lucky that the only people out that night were drunks and most of them didn't really understand what was happening until he was well past them. With a screech of sole on wet cobblestone, Jace turned and bolted down a side street in the hopes of losing his pursuers.

Like the filthy street urchin he was it was without hesitation that he yanked open the tiny little sewer gate and threw himself down it.

 

[Varo]

Varo didn't know what the men would do as they followed Jace, but he honestly figured that it wasn't his problem for the moment.

All the members of the gang could handle themselves at least a little bit. He figured that Jace would be fine, or at least, not beaten to death. The man had wanted him back alive, and there was an opportunity that presented itself for him now.

Right, you got this. Varo thought to himself as he stood up from behind the crates.

Adrenaline pushed down the alcohol in his blood, and from his sleeve slipped a small throwing knife. Slowly he stepped forward, and then he rushed to grab the man from behind.

The blade slipped forward, dragging against his throat. "Don't move."

He hissed.

 

[Jace]

"Urgh," Jace looked down at the sludgy water that came up to his knees in disdain. Itch kept her sewers in far better condition, at least, that was what he thought bitterly to himself as he began to wade deeper through the sewer system. It was quite a feat of engineering these sewer systems, constructed by dwarves from The Spine and despite the muck Jace couldn't help but always marvel the amount of intellect that had gone in to making something like this.

Even if it did stink.

There was no being quiet down here and his footfalls echoed noisily in his ears. However, if he was right then he was heading back the way he had come on the surface towards the warehouse. He had left Varo behind and despite being a good for nothing thief he had honour and would never leave his friend behind.

 

[Varo]

"Don't." He said as the man quickly reached for something at his side, knowing that whatever it was probably wouldn't do any good.

His fingers tightened on the blade, then his other hand looped around his foes stomach and grabbed what was a knife. He tossed it to the floor, then took a dragging step back with the man still threatened by the knife on his throat.

"Now." Varo hissed. "You're going to explain to me what you're doing here."

He said quietly. "And why The Councilor need these scrolls?"

"I ain't telling you shit."​

The knife tightened, drawing just a bit of blood. "Yes you are. Now fucking tell me."

Most of the time Varo was a goof, a fool, but this time? This time he meant it.

 

[Jace]

"HE WENT THIS WAY!"

"Aw fuck," Jace swore and picked up the pace. The sewers were the great equaliser of man; noble, king, peasant, merchant - all who waded through here were sure to come out covered in shit. Metaphorically and literally. In this particular circumstance it meant that the elves were at least slowed; their natural speed and agility weren't much good to them in the thick waste-filled waters. He could hear more than a few angry shouts behind him.

Jace ploughed on faster, glancing up at the bars that appeared every now and then above him to see where he was in the town, adjusting his course as appropriate. After one particular turn he stopped and rummaged in his coat for his deck of cards. Card magic was not something he was naturally talented with but he had worked hard to get where he was with it. With a muted word he pressed one to the stone and hurried on.

It wasn't long before a little while later a large explosion rocked the town and half the street above collapsed into the sewer on top of his pursuers.

 

[Varo]

Varo felt the ground shake, hell the entire town probably felt the ground shake, though right now he was far too focused on the bastards words.

"You're serious?" The words hung in the air for a few moments, and then there was a gruff and rasped laugh.

"Of course I am you fucking moron."

Varo wasn't a killer, not...not by choice. The thing that plagued him on the night of full moons loomed heavy and hard, but not when he was himself. He did not like murder. He did not like killing unless he absolutely had to.

This guy though? This guy he would have made an exception for.

If he was just a little bit worse of a person.

For a few moments he frowned, and then he drew back. The man was about to turn when Varo simply whacked him with the end of the knife. The man tumbled to the ground unconscious, his body hitting the floor with a quiet thud.

Varo looked down at him. "Fuck me...have to find Jace."

He said the himself as he rushed out of the door.

 

[Jace]

Jace slowly eased the manhole cover to the side and poked his head out into the fresh air. It was the side street beside the warehouse this whole thing had started and it looked deserted. In the distance he could hear people shouting and calls for aid to clear the rubble of the caved in street. He grimaced and sent a silent prayer that nobody was severely hurt before pulling himself out of the sewer.

If only he could hurl himself out of the smell in the same way.

Every step gave him a whiff of himself that turned his alcohol filled belly. He muttered darkly to himself every squelchy step before pushing open the door to the warehouse, knife in his hand. The guards who had been on it before were long gone and when he entered it was just Varo and the ringleader. Jace paused.

"You alrigh' mate?"

 

[Varo]

"Kress you fucking stink." That was the first thing he said when Jace went through the door, the second came soon after. "Turn the fuck around."

Many members of the gang thought that Varo was a bit of an idiot, and in truth they probably weren't wrong.

There were things he was good at of course, and it wasn't like he was an utter simpleton. Yet even he knew when things had turned the wrong way. This little heist of theirs had become a bit too dangerous for his taste. Even though he was the one to suggest it he wasn't about to burn for it.

"We need to get the fuck out of here." Varo said as he practically shoved Jace out the door and onto the street.

 

[Jace]

"I 'ad to go through the sewer - hey qui' shovin' me!" he huffed and ducked out from under Varo's hands then straightened his jacket as though it were a fine cut thing and not a barely held together jumble of rags. He cast a suspicious look over his shoulder at the now shut warehouse but the bloke didn't follow them out and there was enough chaos in the street from the explosion to keep everyone else's attention away from two figures making their way to the dock.

"Why are we rushin'?" he hissed, having to do a quick double step every now and then to keep up with Varo's stride. "I got the stuff, don't run when you're packin' remember?" Nothing screamed guilty than running down the streets away from the scene of a crime and once the goods were discovered missing it wouldn't take long for people to connect the incaved street and them.

 

[Varo]

"Oh I'm sorry, did you want to die?" Varo hissed as he quickly continued his crusade through the village.

He didn't particularly care at this point if someone did see them, especially in the middle of all of this panic. He wanted to get the fuck out of there and with good reason too. He moved quickly, head flickering back and forth.

Lips thinned, and then he leaned into Jace.

The stench was almost unbearable, but he managed to hold in the bile as he spoke.

"We just stole from a Fucking Merchant Councilor of Alliria." He whispered quietly. "Arenil."

Even Jace would know who Arenil was. The man was a bastard with a bastard reputation. He had connections to Alliria's underworld, owned half the buildings in the Shallows and was known as one of the scummiest landlords in the whole city.

 

[Jace]

"Fuck."

Jace's hands ran through his hair and fisted there as the panic began to rise. What had they done? On the one hand they knew what they had stolen was at least valuable, on the other hand half of Alliria would be looking out for the fools who tried to sell it. When they found them they'd skin them alive and leave them strung up in the slums for everyone else to see.

"Fuck! You said it was safe out here!" he hissed back angrily, lengthening his own stride in a race for the docks. "You said this would be an easy thing and now we're going to die. Shit," he stopped suddenly. "We need to dump this stuff, if we get caught with it in Alliria..."

 

[Varo]

Jace had a point, of course, but Varo wasn't really in the type of place where he was going to acknowledge that in the least.

"I thought it was!" He told the lad as they continued to move towards the Dock, his stride freezing only a second later after Jace's. "What?"

His head shook. "No, fuck that."

Varo scowled.

"Do you know how much that shit is worth?" Certainly more gold than Jace had ever seen before. "We have to sell that shit, but...quietly."

Very quietly. "Did any of them get a good look at you?"

He asked.

 

[Jace]

Jace pondered his question for a long time and then, eventually, shook his head and begun walking again. If he could have gotten away with running he would have but that would most certainly draw attention to themselves. Even so he couldn't help but feel every single pair of eyes on him as they passed someone in the street.

"I don' fink so," his lips twisted into a grimace. "I was pre'y quick, an' I 'ad me hood up," he tugged said hood down further over his head now to obscure his face with shadow.

"We can' go back to Alliria wiv this," he continued on in a low growl. "We'll 'av to try an' flog it somewhere else. Wha' abou' Oban?"

 

[Varo]

Now THERE was an idea. "You goddamn bloody genius."

Of course, it was PERFECT.

They were already at a port anyway, and a ship to Oban was cheap as shit. Hell, they could probably get paid to go there, if they wanted to pretend to be sailors or some shit. A wide smirk pulled across his lips, hand running through his hair.

"Yes." He told Jace. "Oban, perfect. You're a genius, I knew what they said was wrong. Always said that."

Bloody perfect.

He sniffed the air though, shoving Jace towards what appeared to be a nearby coastline. "But first you need to take a little swim, yeah? Maybe steal some clean clothes."

"Meanwhile I'll find us a ship." Something fast, something smooth.

 

[Jace]

"Hey wha' do y'mean what they said was wrong..." Jace protested as he was shoved towards the beach. If someone had been talking shit about him well he would... he would...! The lad was too busy fuming internally over some imagined slight that he barely registered what it was Varo was saying, angrily stripping off his jacket before remembering that was where the goods were stashed. He took a little more care after that.

"Yeah yeah, go ge' the ship," he sniffed his jacket and grimaced, holding it out at arms length. "I'll meet you by the docks in a bi'," washing for young men didn't involve much more than a quick dunk and a ruffling of hair. By the time he found new clothes and did that Varo would have found something for them no doubt.

 

[Varo]

Excellent.

Things were looking up now. They would be able to sell the scrolls and if no one saw them...well it would all go very well. His hands came together in a clap, and he quickly surveyed the small port that was just ahead of them.

Eyes darted around for a moment, and then he saw what he needed. "Ah, perfect."

Varo tussled his hair, raised a hand, then called out to a female Captain that stood on one of the piers that jutted out into the water.

"Excuse me, miss!" The woman turned her head, smiling as she saw Varo approach.

By the time Jace found him on the dock, hopefully with clean clothes, Varo had not only booked them passage, but had managed to get them a return ride as well.

 

[Jace]

"'ow much o' my gold did this cost?" Jace raised a brow as he stepped aboard the Buxom Bessie. She wasn't much of a ship - from what little Jace knew of ships - but she looked to be tidy enough. The Captain gave him a once over when he clambered on but she could judge his outfit all she liked, she was just lucky he didn't stink of the underbelly of the city anymore.

As it happened the only clothes he had been able to find for his size must have belonged to a merchant's son. He wore dark breeches and an embroidered white shirt. His new jacket was a fancy frock ordeal that was deep maroon in colour and trimmed in black. He had safely transferred the gods from his old smelly coat into this nice new one and he patted them to make sure they were there.

He'd even stolen the hat.

"Be'er?" he held his arms out with a smirk.

 

[Varo]

"I swear sometimes I just can't understand you." Varo meant that literally.

Accents in Alliria were a copper a dozen and Jace was one of the ones that he sometimes just struggled to actually get. The common tongue wasn't his first language, of course, but he had been taught the word of nobles.

At least that was what his mother had called it during the lessons.

Varo spoke like a rich man, someone who was used to the higher life. It was a fair mark of him, given who his father was back in Ivladrin. "Didn't cost much at all."

He told Jace finally.

"Just have to do a quick favor in Oban, but that won't be a problem." Not after they sold the scrolls.

 

[Jace]

Jace shrugged and checked himself out in the reflection of one of the cabin windows smugly instead. It didn't matter to him whether Varo understood him or not, the boy wasn't about to change the way he spoke to suit someone who had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Varo would just need to learn like he had learnt all those other fancy things like reading and writing.

He paused in his peacocking when Varo mentioned some kind of favour.

"'ang on, 'ang on mate... Wha' kinda favour.. this ain't some ova stupid job is it?" he glared at his friend. He'd already nearly died once on a mission that had been described as easy, he wasn't about to go risking his neck to get out of this fire.