The Thieves Guild Monthly Binge - August 2023

The Thieves Guild written by Jake Kerr, voice characterizations by Quarek the Bard. Episode one, in the Shadow of the. Wall, a glorious autumn sunset, provided a stark contrast between the stern guard in the light on the stone wall above and the two boys in the shadows on the ground below. Rayland grinned as he looked up and watched as the guard paused in his rounds. It was too perfect. He and Rafe were standing next to a pile of tomatoes, and the guard stood still, looking out under the plains, his back an easy target with its white armor and robes shining brightly. With Raylan and Rafe in the shadows, they could easily flee unseen. Of course, he had to convince Rafe to throw the tomato the guard first. Brainan kicked his friend in the heel and pointed at the guard. I'll bet you could hit him from here. Raf looked at the guard. Of course, the guard. Race stared at the guard for a moment, but then turned away. No, he's too high and I can barely see his shoulders behind the battlements. He's not even moving. Raylan started juggling the tomatoes he tossed one to Raf, who caught it with his right hand. Come on, don't be a coward. He's sety feet up. Besides, he won't leave his post to chase someone. He just threw a tomato at him. Race started walking away. No way, Raylan. The last time I took one of your challenges, Captain Edgar whipped me so hard I couldn't sit for a week. Brainon grabbed Rafe's arm. I can understand being afraid of Captain Edgar, but a member of the White Guard. Race stopped and turned. He was scowling. Raylan had touched a nerve. Why do you want me to hit the guard so badly because it's fun? Rafe still looked unconvinced. And it's a member of the White Guard. Have you forgotten last Founder's Day? Raylan glanced back over his shoulder at the guard, still standing with his back to them, his white robe blowing in a slight breeze. When Rayln returned his gaze to Rafe, his friend was staring at the guard. I think the least you owe them is staining one of their white robes. Rafe's eyes widened. He had been beaten by three off duty White Guards during the previous Founder's Day when he was caught painting the statue of Elias, the founder of the Night Guild. A garish red. Rafe looked at the tomato and then the guard. He was clearly debating payback. Raylan made sure not to remind Rafe that it was Raylan himself who had egged him on to that mischief. As will Rafe looked at the guard, tossed the tomato up in the air and caught it. I could hit him, of course you could. And look. He pointed along the base of the wall and into some shadows. The pile of smashed tomatoes that had oozed down from where they had been practicing tosses for the Founder's Day parade was already hard to see. You can run that way. He'll never see that close to the wall, and it's dark all the way to the highway. Raylan realized he was very close to getting his friend to toss the tomato. And I'll run this way. He pointed across the field toward the river in the distance. He'll see me and i'll throw his attention. You'll be long gone, and by the time anyone gets to the bottom of the wall, I'll be across the river. Rafe looked around and nodded, give. Me another one. I might miss with the first. Good thinking, Rayland tossed Rafe another tomato. He almost couldn't contain his glee. He really liked Rave, but it was just too easy to get Rafe to do his mischief for him. And in the end, that's what it was all about, doing maximum mischief with minimum risk. Wait until I hit him, and then you run towards the river. Raylan nodded he hadn't lied his friend. There was practically no way that could get into trouble. No one was remotely close to them, and the lengthening shadow of the wall made escape before gone conclusion. Rape pulled his arm back and then paused. He looked at Raylan. I wish the guild Master Knight rode in the cage during the Founder's Day parade. I'd shower him with garbage from beginning to end. Raylan was taken aback by his friend's bitter tone, which hinted at restrained fury. Well, with guild Master patrore dead, you never know. Petro was the late guild Master thief who would ride in the Founder's Day parade. While the populace would throw garbage at him, symbolically abusing him for the sins of thieves. Raph ignored his comment, turned and launched the tomato with his right hand. There was a thud, and Raylan enjoyed the moment. As Rafe took off, running, a large red stain spread over the back of the guard's cape. The guard looked down at his feet and then over the battlements toward where Raelan stood. Raylan could see the guard's face and caught his eye for a moment. He then sprinted for the river. As expected, the guard didn't raise an alarm. Still, Raylan took care to turn down a few alleys between the wall and the river. Near the docks, he stopped and bent over, panting for breath. With his hands on his knees. He glanced around the river front. As he stood back up. The only activity was the hustle and bustle of the sharps preparing for the night in boats of every size, ushering people up and down the river. Raylan smiled and walked down river to the merchant Guild slip. He had gotten away with it. The Thieves Guild. By Jake Kerr, Chapter two, Carch. Carch squeezed the robe in his fist until his knuckles turned as white as the material. He didn't enjoy being the second most important person in one of several powerful guilds. In ness, he wanted to be the second most powerful person in the most powerful guild, and someday the most powerful man period. It was a timeline and plan he had helped nurture for years, and yet now Larsen's irresponsible and maddening little brother was about to ruin everything. Raylean. If it had been up to Karch, the disrespectful whelp would have been banished years earlier. He flaunted his lack of guill as if it was due to his rebelliousness and not his ineptitude. He insulted Karch regularly, knowing that his brother would protect him, and, perhaps worse than anything, he was constantly causing problems for he and Larsen's intricately laid plans. This was just one more example of that. Karch scowled. This mischief would be the last. He knocked on the polished wooden door with his free hand. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the brass plate that said Larson Miller, guild Master Merchant Karch softened his features when it came to Larsen's brother. He had to take care not to be too aggressive or insulting. In came the tired voice of his guild master. Karch turned the knob with his left hand while he slid the stained robe in his right hand behind his back. He entered, closed the door and approached both his hands behind him. He bowed his head. Guild Master, I'm afraid we have a new problem with the Night Guild. He looked up just as Larsen dropped his head against his hand, rubbing his temples with his fingers. Well, this never end. What do they want now? More money? Does Sax want me to apprentice more of his relatives? Do they want me to pay for the Masons to build their tower higher? Lars And slammed his fist to the table. I'm still dealing with Pietro's death, I swear, Carch, this has to end. Doesn't Sax know we haven't yet eliminated the Harvest Guild. I'm just trying to avoid strikes or God's forbid bloodshed. Karch did his best not to smile. He had arranged everything so perfectly. He paid the bribes, apprenticed the right children, gave the right gifts, that he didn't have to worry about any other complications than the one in his right hand, and that complication was about to be removed. Sir, this is an entirely different kind of problem. He brought his hand forward and laid the robe on Larsen's desk. A reddish brown stain marred the pure white of the rest of the robe. Your brother insulted the Night Guild by tossing a tomato at a member of the White Guard while he was on duty. Kark shook his head in an attempt to display a shocked sadness. Larsen grabbed the robe and examined the stain. He looked up at Karch. Are they positive it was Raylan? Indeed, Sir, the Knight saw him clearly in the midst of a field at the base of the North Wall. He had presumably been practicing his throes for the Founder's Day parade. Karch shrugged, I'm sure he meant no harm. Larsen's face turned red. His temper was famous across the city, and Karch had said the perfect thing to set it off. Meant no harm. I've told him again and again that he had to stop these insults to my position as guildmaster and to the repulseation of his own family. Larson started to drum his hand on his desk as his voice increased in volume. I've had to protect Raylan from every Gilmaster in the city over his continued misbehavior, and this is how he thanks me by assaulting the guards who defend our walls. Karsch leaned forward. Not to mention Gilmaster that he has offended the one guild that could cause problems for your plan to merge the merchant and harvest guilt. Larson's eyes opened a bit wider. My patience is at an end, Carch. He grabbed the robe and threw it at him. Find my brother and bring him here. My days of protecting him are over. Will deliver him to Sax and let the Knights take care of him. The moment came for Karch to spring his trap. He would finally be able to rid himself of the impertinent Raylan. Karsh almost couldn't restrain his smile as he considered Raylan living the rest of his life in degradation and isolation, and the beauty was that it brought his entire plan together. Raylan would no longer be an issue, and la potential stumbling block to their plan to control Ness would be removed. Guildmaster Karch began to fold the robe. I'm afraid just giving Raylan to the Knights will only anger him. They won't hold him for very long for such a minor offense, and when they let him go, he will be even more uncontrollable. Karch looked at Larsen and was pleased to see him listening intently, his hands spread on the table. I have a plan that I think will solve two of your problems at once. Larsen leaned back, his face emotionless. I'm listening. The Thieves Guild. By Jake Kerr, Episode three COT. These were the moments that brought joy to Raylan. Surrounded by both friends and strangers from various guilds, he loved to weave tales about his daring do at fighting the officious Night Guild or the greedy Merchant Guild or the dull Harvest Guild. In the city state of Ness, guilds ran everything, their distinct colors a mark of pride worn by every guild member. Not being in a guild required one to wear brown, and while it was commonly a sign of immaturity and a source of disparaging comments, for Raylan, it was a sign of his independence and freed him to mock all guilds without the underlying tension of guild rivalry. He leaned forward, spilling his ale a bit as he prepared to describe the helpless look on the knight's face as he turned after the tomato hit him square in the back. Of course, Raylan wasn't stupid. He had to use the right story for the right crowd. He glanced one more time around the large table at the back of the four triangles, a working man's inn, where he would find a sympathetic audience. Most of the boys were apprentices to his brother's guild, all wearing the merchant's deep blue robes. There were a few harvest apprentices wearing their greens, but there was no nary a white tunic or piece of armor in the room. Raylan smiled and continued, it was beautiful. The tomato was just a bit too ripe, and it landed with a huge splat right in the middle of the guard's back. He slammed the flat of his hand on the table. There were laughs and clapping. He had played the crowd perfectly. All apprentices chafed at the oversight of the knights and their white robes and armor. He glanced at Rafe, who looked glum. He had offered his friend the starring role, but as Raelan expected, Rafe was horrified at the thought of his participation becoming public. Raylan gave him what he hoped was a conspiratorial wink and turned back to his audience. The best part is that he was staring right at me and couldn't see me in the shadows of the wall, so I just winked at him and walked away. There was more laughter and more complimentary nods at his cleverness. One boy that Raylan didn't know slapped him on the back. Raylan was in the midst of a large gulp of veil when the front door opened and everyone went silent. He turned to look at who arrived, and his stomach fell. It was his brother's deputy carch. He stood in his deep blue robe, his golden hair slicked back and tied behind his head. He always pulled it too tight and it made his face look taut, narrowing his eyes to slits and his mouth to a thin, cruel line. The merchant apprentices disappeared as Karch walked toward Raylan, a look of disgust on his face and his arms behind his back. Everyone else sank into their seats or slowly moved to other tables. Rafe was nowhere to be seen. A few brave apprentices smiled expectantly at Raylan. He had nothing to lose, so he decided to show off. The worst case scenario was that he get a dressing down from his brother and Karch would give him a whipping. I didn't know you frequented these kinds of places, Kuch. The deputy looked around and frowned. You are correct, Raylan, but when one is collecting garbage, you need to walk among the filth. He turned back to Raylan and smiled. Which reminds me you are to come with me. I don't need to do any such thing, Kach. Raylan grabbed his brown shirt. As you can see, I'm guildless and you have no authority over me. Karch smiled again, and Raylan started to get nervous. He was fully expecting a slap for his insolence, but that was usually preceded by an angry tongue lashing. A smile didn't mean anything good. Ah, yes, the fifteen year old, wearing the brown of the guildless Karch looked around the room. I don't see anyone else in here without a guild. How long do you intend on such irresponsibility, Raylan? Do you know how many favors your brother has requested on your behalf, only to have you spit in his face at each guild? Raylan shrugged. I never asked him for anything. Kuch leaned forward. Well, the days of asking for nothing and receiving much are at an end. I'm afraid you have gone too far this time. Raylan leaned back. While he tried to think of what he had done. He couldn't think of anything that would offend his brother. Kach must have been bluffing. I have no idea what you are talking about. Now leave me alone and tell my brother that he should worry about guild matters and not me. Standing up straight, Karch brought his hand forward from behind his back and tossed a white pile of cloth on the table. It was a knight's robe with a reddish brown stain on it. I'm afraid a guild matter is why I am here. Karch turned toward the door and raised his voice. Guards. It is time. Three guards in white entered the inn. The one in front was missing his robe. Kach looked back at Raylan and smiled. I believe you know, sir, Henry Carch tapped the robe you met yesterday. The guard had a scowl on his face. Raylan recognized the eyes, but he couldn't quite believe that the guard could recognize him. I don't know what you are talking about, Carch. I never met that man in my life. Your stories have become tiresome, Raylan. Carch moved out of the way. Take him to the carriage, and if he is bruised from the journey, I certainly won't find fault. Raylan pushed his chair back and scrambled toward the back of the room. He hadn't gone two feet, however, before a thick hand grabbed him by the collar. He tried to wriggle free, but the hand shoved his head into a pillar. Raylan staggered backward from the blow, only to have the hand turn him toward the table behind him. He felt his head impact the table, and everything went dark.