Pilara - Chapter Five

While the mid-day sun warmed and invigorated the good citizens above, torchlight crackled in the Dark Run, casting sets of crawling shadows through Sardaun's home. He sat at the head of his long table, distractedly nipping at the remnants of a shank of meat. His lieutenants had left minutes before, heading to their respective homes for the week ahead. Even the Thieves' Guild found it necessary to give time to its members for the week of Harvest Festival; a thief needed a vacation as much as an honest worker.

Jerking a length of fat free, he tossed the bone down the table, chewing at the gristle as a harsh wind entered the hall. The torches mounted into the walls blew out in one fell swoop, and Sardaun felt a chill grab his spine.

"Show yourself, beast," he murmured, remaining in his seat.

At the far end of the table the shadows seemed to gather, living, oozing their shapes together against the wall. Slowly, a figure emerged from the inky darkness, tall, wrapped in black robes that might be mistaken for the shadows they had emerged from. A pale hand reached out to grip the back of the chair before it, pulling it out. The figure slid into the seat, and a voice came forth, raspy, as though parched for a century, "Sardaun. I trust I've not interrupted a tender moment."

"Yes, well, I doubt you would care whether you did or didn't," the thief muttered, spitting a chunk of fat onto a plate in front of him.

"As much as I enjoyed our previous conversation, let us get down to business. Where is my parcel?" the robed figure asked, slowly tapping a long, pale finger against the stone table.

"Parcel? I'm not sure what you're talking about, Velost," Sardaun said, the broad-shouldered man leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, hands folded together before him.

"Do not play games, Sardaun, I have paid you enough money to enlist an army. I know the boy retrieved the gauntlets, and I want them. Now." Velost's eyes smoldered like the embers of a dying fire, the anger in his voice forcefully subdued.

"There's been a slight issue in, shall we say, the retrieval of the package. He put them on." Almost punctuating Sardaun's last word, Velost's fist slammed down onto the table, a jagged crack rippling forward.

"How incompetent could you be? You assured me there would be no mistakes."

"Things happen. He's young, inexperienced," Sardaun said, cursing the man silently.

Velost grew silent for a long, long minute, eyes closed, deep in thought. After a time he cleared his throat, looking forward at the rogue. "I do not have the time to hunt through this warren of yours for the boy. In two day's time I will return, at sunrise. Assuming you have not been stuck in this pit long enough to forget what sunrise is like. I want the boy here, ready for my retrieval, or I will have your head."

"As you wish, my lord ," Sardaun said, narrowing his eyes. Without another word the robed figure melted into a pool of darkness in the chair, and the torches lining the walls erupted to life once more. The thief realized he had been holding his breath, and let it out, leaning forward with his head in hands, cursing.