"Pop!" goes the...

Messages for the Rogues' Guild
praetorian
Posts: 46
Joined: Sat Apr 26, 2014 2:09 pm
Guild: Rogues
Temple: Shadows

"Pop!" goes the...

Post by praetorian »

“Audit! Audit time!” the lanky Dark Elf made his presence known, triggering an eye roll from Roberto. Flanked by two humans in simple garb, each carrying handfuls of parchment. Prae strode past the tacky decor and (for posterity) the bar itself. He flashed a quick sign at the bouncer and strode past into the hearth and down into the cellar, bureaucrats in tow.

It stank. It was the first thing he noticed. Not the old smell of the countless spilled bottles over hundreds of years without enough cleaning in between, but a musky, living smell.

“By Deori’s drawers, how are we going to work down here?” one of the men complained.
“My eyes are watering!” cried the woman beside him, heaving and retching.
“It could be worse. Have you ever smelled Fearecia’s breath?” Prae responded, manually plugging his nasal passages. As he looked around, he almost immediately noticed the frayed burlap, the trail of masticated anise root.

“Well we can’t work down here,” the man said.

The woman vocalized in agreement as she pulled her tunic over her nose. The two rushed back up the trap door, leaving the Rogue Boss in the sole company of rodent feces. It was as he imagined life in the Thieves’ Guild must be like, he mused to himself as he followed his posse back towards the bar.

“You’ve got a rodent problem,” he informed Roberto, who shrugged as he polished his glasses.
“We’ve had rats in the Crow even when you were the Steward here.”
“Rats? Too much of a mess to be a few small rats. Something bigger”
“Then take care of it. Killing giant rats in a cellar sounds like a job for adventurers,” the barkeep mused.
“Giant Rats, huh?” Prae gave a knowing quip.

Himself sensitive to smells, he wondered who could be up to the task? What manner of creature would have curiosity and cleverness to hunt down an unseen, elusive rodent?

It gave Prae paws to think.
Nomos
Posts: 1
Joined: Sun Oct 21, 2018 7:40 pm
Guild: Rogues

Re: "Pop!" goes the...

Post by Nomos »

The Rogues’ guild cellar in Goldcroft doesn’t have its usual crowd of regulars. Just the one staple, near full on fixture of the guild, sitting on the floor, slumped against the wall. The guild drunk crinkles his nose into a frown without looking up from gazing at his feet, which are sticking out in front of him, as another Rogue walks into the room.

“Sorry about the smell”, the still wet Catline says to the Half-elf as he walks up to a barrel. Pulling a pint from the makeshift spout and setting it down beside his guildmate before pouring another for himself and sitting atop an empty crate nearby. The half-elf looks up with a smile as he notices a beer appear by his hand, matching the big grin of the Catline.

“The beer makes up for the smell”, the half-elf remarks as he holds up the pint as a greeting and a thank you. “But why are you in such high spirits, I could smell you before you walked in the room” he says before taking a long drink.

“I’ve bathed twice now, I think it’ll be a week before the smell is gone. It’s okay though, it was all worth it” Nomos says, getting a bit more comfortable.

“It all started a week ago, when one of The Boss’ aids came to me, telling me I’d finally been granted what I’d been waiting for, a chance to seek out the Weasel’s Den. I was floored, and to be honest, already spending some time in the guild library going over tales from past Rogues’ journeys to seek out their weasel in anticipation of the day I'd get a chance to go myself” Nomos remarks.

The half-elf gives Nomos a look like he had his attention for as long as there was beer in his glass.

“Library huh, I didn’t know we had one,” the Half-elf mutters as he takes another drink. “You know, you could have just asked me how to find it.” He finishes his beer and slides it over toward Nomos to refill.

“Well, that would have taken some of the fun out of the experience,” Nomos says as he walks over and sets a full pint next to the Half-elf, who was now staring at his feet again.

“I'll tell you the whole story... Ahem. Signaling the man before the room of outposts I set out on my way. Now with a clear path in mind--thanks to having done my homework--I set out past Abram’s Landing into the snowy forest…”.

“Got it, got it. You set of on your trip, found the den, did a little bob-and-weave dance with the weasels, found your life long companion yadda yadda. That doesn’t explain why you stink so much,” the Half-elf quips, interrupting Nomos with a smile. “I’ve seen many Rogues go through the journey, myself included and none have come back so. . . ripe.”

“I may have been the benefactor of right place right time, which is just fine with me. It turns out that, the funky smell in the Devardec outpost’s cellar was because it was infested with giant rats. The damn aid needed a Sly Weasel to get the job done right and didn’t want to ask any of you veterans as he didn't have the proper carrot. I on the other hand was an easy mark. Two birds as they say. Anyway, she’s currently being bathed, yet another time at the Dev stables, but I’ll be sure to introduce you once I pick her up,” Nomos exclaims as he finishes his drink and hops to his feet.

The Half-elf’s wipes his blue hair over his face as he bobs his head knowingly, or was he lulling himself to sleep…

Clapping the old man on the shoulder as he walks out of the room, Nomos doesn’t seem at all perturbed by his guild mates lack of enthusiasm.
Rogue Nomos

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