Opening Pleasantries

The Thieves Guild. Written by Jake Kerr, Chapter seventy eight, opening Pleasantries, Vesper moved with a confidence. He didn't quite feel the nature of politics, and being open about the lies you tell was alien to him. He looked at Karch, who seemed to be a master of that, and he was vibrating with a strong, tight, desperate energy. He was in his element. Raylen, however, was calm and focused their entire journey, Vesper was beginning to learn that Raylan didn't seem to even have an element. He was just himself, with all the lack of complexity that such a mindset brought in approaching the world, Vesper felt the same way about himself, if in a different way. The air in Harvest House was thick and humid, smelling of dirt and bark and plants that surrounded everything. Vesper didn't like it. It oddly reminded him of the sickly sweet flowers that bloomed in the city Graveyard in the Inner Fields, which he visited once when he was younger, and promised himself never to visit again. They were late. The North Fork was still in chaos, even with a guildmaster commandeering his guild's fastest boat. They reached the Great Hall, and a harvest guard in a fine green tunic stepped forward to block them. Vesper's eyes narrowed. We are here for the guild Master council. Carch went to move past the guard, but he blocked his way, his gaze falling on their group. You are free to attend, Guildmaster Karch, but the rest are not only guild masters and their designated deputies. He peered suspiciously at Pelos, who towered over him. This is Guildmaster Raylen, this is his lieutenant Philos, and this is guild Master designate. Vesper. Now move aside. The guard looked unsure, but didn't move. I was not told there was another guild master designate. Attending another one. Now this is interesting, Vesper thought, of course, Polo will try to install his own man and have him attend. He should have expected as much. Well there is, and as such his presence is required. Now move aside. The guard again didn't move. He looked at Philos. You said lieutenant, and not deputy. He is not permitted to attend. Karch stepped forward, and who is guild Master Quinto's deputy? I don't believe he's named one, yet is. He here alone? Karch stepped forward, getting directly into the space of the imposing guard. No, Captain Jackson is with. Him, So it appears that your rules have exceptions for others but not guild Master Raylan be that as it may, we will not attend without our entire group's presence, and there will thus be no vote. I'm sure Guildmaster Polo will be very pleased with that. The guard's face went pale, clearly out of his depth. He asked them to wait and left. Polo's angry voice could be heard even this far away. The guard returned, his face flushed you. You may enter, all of you. They were escorted into a large room that was on the second floor and near the stairwell. There were no less than a half dozen heavily armed Harvest Guild guards standing at the door. Polo and Quinto were already at a long living wood table eating. Jackson stood behind Quinto, while Esma stood behind Polo. Sitting next to Polo was a man his age, a stranger to Vesper, dressed in harvest green, with a hard, competent face. You have a deputy, I see kuch a bit large for an adviser, isn't he I dare say he's larger than John was, the late John, I should add. Arch smiled a thin, sharp expression. Perhaps you didn't notice he is wearing black. Raylan stepped out from behind Carch, his formal black clothes, looking even more majestic in the omnipresent green of Harvest House. Pelos loomed behind him. He is with me, Vesper watched the reactions. The guard had clearly not mentioned that the guildmaster thief was in attendance, and it was delicious. Polo's smile vanished, replaced by a mask of pure, unadulterated shock. Quinto Ever, the Stone merely tightened his grip on his wine cup. The man in green, the Stranger, looked as if he'd been struck. His eyes were wide fixed on Raylan. You you are not on this council. You were not invited. Raylan was unmoved. Guildmaster Polo, my presence at the last Guildmaster council saved your guild from oblivion. Perhaps you should be more grateful. The barb hit. Polo's face darkened with rage, but he sat. He knew Raylan was right, If not for Raylan, the entire Harvest Guild would have been absorbed into the Merchant Guild. He gestured to the empty chairs a sharp, angry flick of his hand. Sit Karch sat slower than everyone, and Vesper glanced at him. Karch was entirely focused on the man in green. His eyes widened, his own shock equal to Polo's. Captain, Rogers, What in all hells are you doing here? Vesper processed the name Rogers. Polo laughed a sharp, triumphant bark. He is here, Karch as the next guild master of the Craft Guild, my own captain, Rogers. You know him as the hero of the pit. I take it. Karch looked dumbfounded and at a total loss. He stared at Rogers. I know him as the hero of the city's defense. He helped the city alongside merchant guards. What is this? I named you, my captain after your bravery? Tell him. Vesper watched Rogers, the man at the center of the storm. He looked profoundly uncomfortable, and it was at that moment he realized the unbelievable truth. This was the same Rogers who had returned to the Thieves Tower while he was there. With Maeler for a short time. He hadn't met him, but he knew it was the same man he had somehow infiltrated the Merchant and Harvest Guild as a captain. Vesper's delight was interrupted by Polo. Is this true? Captain Rogers met Polo's gaze then Carch's. Roger's shock had already transformed into a calm confidence. He looked directly at Karch. I've never met Guildmaster cart in my life. The lie was clean and direct. Vesper was impressed. Karch looked like he'd been stabbed. As the accusations began to fly, Vesper watched Phelos lean down and whisper in Raylan's ear. Raylan's eyes went wide for a moment, but quickly returned to his normal calm. Still, the young guildmaster was looking at Rogers with a new intense interest. Vesper suddenly felt a chill. He had not realized a critical part of the amusing arguments happening over Rogers. Vesper's entire plan. His ascension rested on Raylan's vote, and a thief Guild captain had just been nominated for the same seat. Vesper was also a thief, but a thief that had spent time in the guild prison for attempting to assassinate Raylan. There is no way that Raylan would choose him over his own captain. His thoughts were interrupted by Polo, who turned his anger back on Carch. Enough, Carch, you bring this man as your sad attempt to sway this council, and then you accuse my captain. Polo pointed at Vesper, and who, pray tell is your designated Carch had recovered. He smiled that thin rat like smile. He looked at Vesper. Introduce yourself. Vesper rose slowly. He let the silence hang, his gaze sweeping over Polo, then Quinto, then Rogers. I was a Ryan's blade. The name Orion settled a new chill on the room. I know the Craft Guild. I know it's books. I know the traps are Ryan laid. I know the captains who are loyal to the guild, and I know those who were merely Oryan's puppets. I know who is to be trusted and who is not. And the captains fear me. It is a guild I can bring to heel. It was a powerful, brutal speech, Polo just laughed a blade as a guildmaster, Cauch, have you lost your mind? We may as well just make a thief. The Guildmaster Vesper allowed himself a small cold smile at the irony. It only made Polo and. And what about you, Rogers, Why don't you tell me about yourself? Clearly you have the trust of Guildmaster Polo, and even guild Master Carch, if it is to be believed you were his captain too. Rogers looked pained. He was a good liar, Vesper thought, and of course a good leader. But as a politician he looked uncomfortable. I'm a harvest guild member who simply lived in the lower quarter. I did some good deeds, good deeds. He saved the pit. He's a hero, he has bravery competence. He is the perfect guild master candidate Raylan. Even you can see that Raylan didn't reply. Servants, moving silently on bare feet, began to serve the dinner. Vesper looked around the table, his mind calculating. Carch was seething, clearly wondering if Rogers had lied or if he'd been played. Polo was radiating a confidence that was too loud, too desperate, and Quinto. Quinto was staring Daggers at Rogers, not at Carch, not at Raylen, not at him at Rogers. Why, Vesper wondered, What did the Knight know? This was going to be a very interesting evening. Vesper picked up his knife, the weight familiar and comforting. He expertly carved a piece of meat. A podcast Alchemy production