The Ghost And The Liars

The Thieves Guild. Written by Jake Kerr, Chapter seven, The Ghost and the lyars. Hava did not look like a captain. He looked like a fungus that had been scraped from the underside of a rock. He sat at the long table in the main hall of Harvest House, squinting against the sunlight that streamed through the living canopy. Perhaps, if he were charitable, Polo would describe Havr as a ghost. His skin was translucent, pale as a grub, and his eyes were dark pits that seemed to absorb the room's vibrancy without reflecting it. He was the craft captain of the Mines, a man who hadn't seen the sky for any length of time in years, until Esma dragged him out of the dark. He was eating with his hands. He tore into a roasted chicken with a savage, silent intensity, ignoring the fine silverware Polo had laid out. Polo watched him from the head of the table, a benevolent smile plastered on his face. It is good, is it? Not? Real food grown in the sun, not the salted rat meat they feed you in the deep tunnels. Have stopped chewing. He looked up, grease shining on his chin. That's because the miners of the Harvest gille take all the good food. Even our chefs who serve them eat poorly. I'm there to help mend axes and picks and shovels, and they treat me like a dog. The bitterness in Havevo's voice was a challenge to be overcome, and Polo intended on doing that first. If I had known such things wouldn't happen, he turned to his right, where a guard was standing. Send a message to the mines. The craft guild members are to be treated as important guests. They are to have first choice of the food shipments. He turned back to have inform your chef of this. He is to serve his guild mates first. Have turned back to his food. Good Polo took control of his frustration. He just put his own guild behind Have's maggots, and all he got was a good Still, there were more important things to discuss. You have been called for a vote of your new guild master, Polo watched, as have continued to eat. You are aware of the details. Yes, Deputy Asmer filled me in. He said, I am to vote for. Rogers food tumbled out of Haveva's mouth as he spoke. Tell me why Vesper, the merchant choice is a vile man and is under Karche's thumb. Rogers will protect the mines. He will stop Kutch. He will ensure that your guild is independent and respected. Again, Rogers, this hero of the pit the same, so he fights. He held the bridge. When the merchants tried to burn the city, Hava nodded slowly. He picked up a bone and cracked it between his teeth. I will vote for him. I have no love for the money counters and a harvest candidate brought forth by carsh. To Polo's horror, have spat on the grass next to his chair. He is a traitor. Polo's smile didn't waver. Indeed, Captain, Indeed, the news of Bertram's murder had traveled fast, but Quinto moved faster. He left the body in the alley and marched straight to the guard barracks. He kicked the door open. The room went silent. Craft guards, still edgy from the siege, jumped to their feet. Torren, the captain of the guards, stood at the far end. He looked like a man who had been expecting a blow. He didn't reach for his weapon, but he didn't salute either. Quinto strode down the center aisle, Jackson at his heel. The white cloaks of the Knights seemed to blaze in the gloom of the barracks. Bertram is dead. His voice rang off the stone walls. I know Guildmaster Torreon's voice was steady, but Quinto saw the tension in his shoulders. We found him and are glad of the Protector's assistance. He was murdered, stabbed in an alley like a dog. This city is losing its order, Captain, and when order fails, the night step in after Torreon's gratitude, Quinto wasn't sure his comment would be welcomed or seen as a threat. Either worked. He watched Torran's eyes. He saw fear, yes, but he also saw something else, hesitation. There is a vote to restore order. Rogers is the candidate of peace. He is the candidate of the Knights. He is the candidate of the Harvest. He is the only thing standing between this guild and Carchi's greed. I am aware of the vote, and I am aware of Rogers. He is a good man, Torreon's words sounded more tentative than they should have. He saved lives. He is the only choice unless you want carsh to disband your guard and replace you with mercenaries. Torren flinched Quinto. New force mattered here, but so did the quiet confidence of a man who knew how to use it. He waited, I will vote for Rogers. He didn't look Quinto in the eye as he said it. The guild needs stability. It was a simple answer, an unenthusiastic answer, but it was a yes. Good see that you do. He turned and marched out, signaling Jackson to follow. He's lying they hit the street, or he's hiding something. He's scared. Whatever killed Bertram has him spooked. But fear makes men obedient. He'll fall in line. They crossed into the flats, the devastation of the fires fading every day, but still evident in the blackened walls and skeletons of houses. They found George in the back of a lumber yard, overseeing a shipment of timber from the far northern fields. The captain of the Lower Quarter was a weasel of a man, thin and oily. When he saw the knights, he didn't cower. He beamed guild Master Quinto, to what way o the honor? Are we arresting looters? I have a list. We are securing votes for Rogers. Rogers, the hero, the savior of the flatsless choice. Inspired, Quinto frowned, This was too easy. You support him, support him, I adore him, George exclaimed, his eyes wide and innocent. When I learned of the vote, I immediately thought of him. He brought order to the chaos, he stopped the fires. He is exactly what we need, a man of action, the hero of the pit, a man of the people. Quinto was thankful for the man's enthusiasm, but he tempered this with some skepticism. And how did you hear of the vote for the guild master? The man leaned forward. A weasley man from the bowels of the guild came to me, looking to secure my vote. Imagine that I think he was a craftsman who cleans the sewers. My guild loyalty can only go so far. Ah. Of course, Vesper had already been making the round that would explain Torren as well. Clearly Vesper was overplaying his hand. Quinta smiled, George's enthusiasm was subdued, but real and honestly. With a choice between Vesper and Rogers, who in their right mind would choose Vesper? You speak wisely. The guild will thank you. And with that Quinto spun around and left the lumber yard behind. Well, it looks like Vesper is our best asset. He's turning his own votes against himself. Quinta smiled, We have the votes. The podcast Alchemy production