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The Tabaxi sighed as he sunk back onto the bar stool, arching his back to lean on the bar itself. His tail swished and flicked from side to side feverishly — as if possessed by its own thoughts and feelings — betraying the feline’s outward, stoney expression. He tapped a clawed digit on the wooden exterior of his tankard and smacked his lips, fighting against a perpetual thirst; an unnatural thirst forced upon him by a less than happy deity. His gaze turned to Ratima and the “Shadow”, his expression shifting to somewhere between a scowl and a half-cocked grin. There was something about the Khajiit. His fur bristled and his nose itched at the thought.
“Blessed be..” he murmured, recognising the subtle signs from his otherworldly benefactor. Fish huffed and placed the tankard down. He spun on the bar stool, away from the bar and rolled his wrist. There, now resting in his gloved paw where there was nothing a split second earlier, sat a wicked, curved blade. He winced as it materialised in his palm, a visible plume of smoke rose from his paw as the blade singed the fur and seared at the skin below, leaving the scent of burnt hair and flesh hanging in the air. .
“Alright.. alright.. Gods above. I miss one payment and you act like I’m dodging it entirely… I couldn’t pay because I was in jail..” the rogue hissed quietly at the blade, “No thanks to you, I might add! What was that shit with tripping me? Almost like you wanted me to end up in that cell with the dog and her.”
He grumbled irritably and placed the blade down on his lap. The air around it seemed to thrum slightly, as if it wasn’t happy with being set down. Quickly, he retrieved the coin purse Ra had reverse pickpocketed onto his person and set it down beside the dagger. He took the blade up once again before placing the tip of it against the purse. Slowly, at first, the purse began to shift and warp until it was entirely consumed by the blade, disappearing entirely from this plane of existence.
“You fu- this is why I ended up in that cell, isn’t it? Nothing to do with my misfortune.. you wanted me to end up with this lot, didn’t you?” Fish growled at the blade, shiftily glancing from side to side to make sure nobody was eavesdropping in on his conversation… with a dagger.
“Oh you are good. A massive, massive bitch, but you’re good. Fine. I’ll stick with them. Do the job she’s given me. You’ll get your cut.. no more singeing my fur, though. It makes me paw feel off and I can’t pilfer goods with a fucked up paw, can I?”
He shook his head a few times with a grumble as he rolled his wrist once again. The blade faded into nothingness, retreating back to the pocket dimension She had created for the Rogue. He sighed in relief after taking a long drink from his tankard, the thirst finally abating as he swallowed the questionable alcohol. It didn’t matter to him in that moment, though. It tasted like the nectar of the gods and quenched every trace of thirst that ailed him.
He sat for a short while, a few seats away from both pairs of his compatriots. He didn’t have the energy to feign interest in their conversations and the drink was starting to pull a tipsy haze over him. The Tabaxi sighed into his cup and finished the rest of whatever Gerudo alcohol he’d been brought. A glint caught his eye, from behind the bar.
Caught in the flickering flames of lantern and candle alike, a shiny, nearly gold coloured mug hung from the central wall, obviously in a position of pride. Perhaps a hard earned trinket or just the barkeeps prized golden tankard. The trickster mused idly for a little while, mulling over his sticky fingered intentions before finally giving in.
Fish dug around in the component pouch that hung from his belt and produced a small piece of fleece which he rubbed between his clawed digits. The tankard seemed to shimmer for a moment as an exact replica of it settled within the same space.
He paused, glancing from side to side to make his initial spell had gone unnoticed. He dipped his chin a little and forced an innocent smile as both Ra’tima and Demetri glanced over at him. Had they noticed? He couldn’t be sure.
He returned the fleece to the pouch at his side and waited a few moments, taking occasional “sips” from his empty cup. Silently, the rogue weaved a spell, summoning his spectral, magical hand into existence, drawing on the latent arcane energies within him to cast the spell without the usual necessary incantation and patterns. Invisible to the naked eye, the arcane appendage floated beside the tankard. It wrapped its airy digits around the handle of the mug and prized it from its holding and quickly flew back to the Tabaxi. He could conceal his magical hand, but the floating tankard was something only speed and luck could conceal.
Fish stretched his arm above his head and yawned widely as the Mage Hand stuffed the tankard into his satchel, hopefully drowning out any noise.
Satisfied he’d gone unnoticed, at least he thought he had, the Trickster hopped down from the bar stool and, following another stretch, turned to head for one of the tavern's rooms for the remainder of the night.
“Well, uh, thanks for the assist today. I’ma get some sleep. It’s been a pleasure.. see you back in Uruk, I guess? Good night.”
He didn’t wait for any replies and he turned on heel and skulked away, directed towards a room for the night by the Gerudo.
He stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him and threw himself onto the, somewhat firmer than anticipated, bed with a grunt.
“Blessed be..” he murmured, recognising the subtle signs from his otherworldly benefactor. Fish huffed and placed the tankard down. He spun on the bar stool, away from the bar and rolled his wrist. There, now resting in his gloved paw where there was nothing a split second earlier, sat a wicked, curved blade. He winced as it materialised in his palm, a visible plume of smoke rose from his paw as the blade singed the fur and seared at the skin below, leaving the scent of burnt hair and flesh hanging in the air. .
“Alright.. alright.. Gods above. I miss one payment and you act like I’m dodging it entirely… I couldn’t pay because I was in jail..” the rogue hissed quietly at the blade, “No thanks to you, I might add! What was that shit with tripping me? Almost like you wanted me to end up in that cell with the dog and her.”
He grumbled irritably and placed the blade down on his lap. The air around it seemed to thrum slightly, as if it wasn’t happy with being set down. Quickly, he retrieved the coin purse Ra had reverse pickpocketed onto his person and set it down beside the dagger. He took the blade up once again before placing the tip of it against the purse. Slowly, at first, the purse began to shift and warp until it was entirely consumed by the blade, disappearing entirely from this plane of existence.
“You fu- this is why I ended up in that cell, isn’t it? Nothing to do with my misfortune.. you wanted me to end up with this lot, didn’t you?” Fish growled at the blade, shiftily glancing from side to side to make sure nobody was eavesdropping in on his conversation… with a dagger.
“Oh you are good. A massive, massive bitch, but you’re good. Fine. I’ll stick with them. Do the job she’s given me. You’ll get your cut.. no more singeing my fur, though. It makes me paw feel off and I can’t pilfer goods with a fucked up paw, can I?”
He shook his head a few times with a grumble as he rolled his wrist once again. The blade faded into nothingness, retreating back to the pocket dimension She had created for the Rogue. He sighed in relief after taking a long drink from his tankard, the thirst finally abating as he swallowed the questionable alcohol. It didn’t matter to him in that moment, though. It tasted like the nectar of the gods and quenched every trace of thirst that ailed him.
He sat for a short while, a few seats away from both pairs of his compatriots. He didn’t have the energy to feign interest in their conversations and the drink was starting to pull a tipsy haze over him. The Tabaxi sighed into his cup and finished the rest of whatever Gerudo alcohol he’d been brought. A glint caught his eye, from behind the bar.
Caught in the flickering flames of lantern and candle alike, a shiny, nearly gold coloured mug hung from the central wall, obviously in a position of pride. Perhaps a hard earned trinket or just the barkeeps prized golden tankard. The trickster mused idly for a little while, mulling over his sticky fingered intentions before finally giving in.
Fish dug around in the component pouch that hung from his belt and produced a small piece of fleece which he rubbed between his clawed digits. The tankard seemed to shimmer for a moment as an exact replica of it settled within the same space.
He paused, glancing from side to side to make his initial spell had gone unnoticed. He dipped his chin a little and forced an innocent smile as both Ra’tima and Demetri glanced over at him. Had they noticed? He couldn’t be sure.
He returned the fleece to the pouch at his side and waited a few moments, taking occasional “sips” from his empty cup. Silently, the rogue weaved a spell, summoning his spectral, magical hand into existence, drawing on the latent arcane energies within him to cast the spell without the usual necessary incantation and patterns. Invisible to the naked eye, the arcane appendage floated beside the tankard. It wrapped its airy digits around the handle of the mug and prized it from its holding and quickly flew back to the Tabaxi. He could conceal his magical hand, but the floating tankard was something only speed and luck could conceal.
Fish stretched his arm above his head and yawned widely as the Mage Hand stuffed the tankard into his satchel, hopefully drowning out any noise.
Satisfied he’d gone unnoticed, at least he thought he had, the Trickster hopped down from the bar stool and, following another stretch, turned to head for one of the tavern's rooms for the remainder of the night.
“Well, uh, thanks for the assist today. I’ma get some sleep. It’s been a pleasure.. see you back in Uruk, I guess? Good night.”
He didn’t wait for any replies and he turned on heel and skulked away, directed towards a room for the night by the Gerudo.
He stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him and threw himself onto the, somewhat firmer than anticipated, bed with a grunt.
Word count: 1000/5000
♢ Special Delivery! ... And a Live Tour? ♢
♢♢♢
Quest Giver: Ra'tima-dro (NPC | @Masahir N'air )
Quest Length: 5,000 words
Quest Location: Mesa Roja
Quest Prerequisites: Be 'Fish in the River' (NPC | @Cho )
Quest Reward: Standard
Repeatability: Unique
Quest Description:
Ra'tima-dro has had a couple of long days spent in Karim, causing hijinks as she begins to reform her Thieves' Guild. She has tasked this Tabaxian Rogue with delivering a sealed scroll case of documents back to her shop, The Golden Sands, in Uruk- a newer city located roughly two-to-three days travel away from Karim. He is to hand the delivery off to Masahir, and recite a specific cant, then he is to learn the rules that Ra'tima-dro has set for thieves working under her guidance.
Upon reciting the cant, Masahir will be interested in getting the rogue settled into the city, up to and including giving him a tour of Uruk while informing him of the aforementioned rules, and providing him with food and lodging, if he is willing. After completing the tour, Fish is more than welcome to rove around, as long as he abides the tenets he was just informed of. Generally speaking, the Five Tenets are as such:
1.) Do no harm nor heist while within Uruk's walls.
2.) Do not disrespect King Gilgamesh's authority.
3.) Never bring harm or humiliation upon the Guild.
4.) Do not harm or kill marks, nor your fellow guildmates.
5.) Never attempt to skimp on the Guild's cut.
♢♢♢