Wisdom: Thieves Guild

The coming of night blanketed the sky with fading purples and blues. Many merchants had cleared for the night. A few people hurried down Lexington's sidewalks, occasionally startled by the growling of some mutt let loose from its master. Horses in their stables snorted and stamped their feet, trying to settle down after pulling carriages all day. A lone guard patrolled the streets, lighting lampposts as he went.
 

Though travelers and merchants actively walked the town square by day, nighttime brought its own array of hosts. A variety of animals marched the streets in search of leftover food. Peasants, whom had had no luck during the daylight hours, now came from hiding. They were soon joined by Keith and Blackavar. After nearly losing to the town guards once, the two were in no hurry to try their luck again. Instead, they waited until the cover of night. After checking for the night patrol., they darted across the street to the next alley, continuing until they reached a dead end.
 

Blackavar cupped his hands over his mouth to produce a convincing night owl's cry. His fingers rapped atop the knuckles of his opposite hand, varying the steadiness of the cry. In all, there were two long hoots, which was promptly answered with two more.
 

Keith heard a faint click, and a section of wall opened to reveal a figure holding a lantern.
 

“I was beginning to wonder when you'd return,” a soft voice greeted. Once inside, the wall slid in place so that not even a crack hinted its presence.
 

“Greetings, Master Blackavar,” a voice said from above. Several shadowed figures slid down ropes from the rafters to join their comrade. The middle figure spoke to Blackavar while directing the others with hand gestures. It was a perfect way of communicating. Keith noticed the master thief's fingers signal too. Whatever it meant, the men understood with no questions asked.
 

“I've brought a new member,” Keith heard Blackavar say, and the boy's attention drifted from the hand signals to the tall figures.
 

“Another from the gutter, eh Blackavar?” one thief laughed.
 

There were several chuckles before the master thief cleared his throat.
 

“Well, what are we waiting for?” he grinned. “Ye know the routine. Snap to it! And mind ye, young ones are far more easier to teach than the grown.”
 

Before Keith could blink, the thieves scurried back up the ropes. More rustling from above alerted him that others had joined, darting from one rafter to the next. Blackavar gestured for Keith to follow across the room. When they neared the end wall, it slid open, and the two departed back outside. Surrounding buildings boxed in the area, with only a pile of tossed belongings in the center. There were no other exits except the way they had come.
 

“Another hidden door?” Keith inquired.
 

Blackavar nodded, and pulled back a rag to reveal a square stone jutting from the smooth pavement. When he pressed it, a trap door opened beneath them. Keith yelped as he felt air whipping passed until something soft broke his fall.
 

Keith looked up through the array of feathers flying around him, then sat up.

“Blackavar?”
 

More feathers went flying as the thief pulled himself out and dusted himself off.
 

“The only problem with feathers,” he shook his head to loosen any strays, “you have to keep piling `em up for the next person.” He tapped a finger to his chin, staring at still-falling stragglers. He shrugged. “Oh, well! Come on. It's this way.”
 

Side by side, the two walked through a narrow passageway to a set of semi-circle doors.
 

“Ready?” Excitement welled in Blackavar's voice, and Keith grinned. Using both hands, he pushed the two doors open until golden light flooded the opening. “Welcome to the Thieves' Guild!”
 

The room was like a miniature town square, with buildings lining the sidewalls and pathways in between to resemble alleyways. Many long tables arranged in the room's center contained piles of stolen goods, the majority being gold. Around the tables were benches, which allowed members to sit and admire their daily steals.
 

Already, the room was filled with hustle and bustle as thieves, young and old, came and went. There were women washing clothing and hanging them to dry, men roasting hogs over fires and brewing stew in kettles. Keith even saw animals being led from passages into the back rooms where meat was produced, clothing, and more. The sight of it all was very much like the two above, though with no guards to bother with.
 

From the moment Blackavar entered, acknowledgements came from every direction. No matter what people were doing, all paused to greet the master thief. This provided the perfect opportunity to introduce his newest member who, after a while, received more attention than expected. Keith's unusual appearance drew quite a crowd, curious to see an albino in their midst. Conversations of excitement, even skepticism, broke out, for how was a thief with white hair able to steal and remain anonymous?
 

“Don't ye fret, lad.” Blackavar held the crowd at bay by answering questions using hand signals. “We'll get Medallion to take a look at ye. Now…ye hungry? Been a long day, has it not?”
 

Keith's grumbling stomach answered, and he smiled sheepishly.
 

“I can't remember my last meal,” he admitted. “That stew sure smells good.”
 

A man stirring it offered him a bowl.
 

“We're all family here,” the man replied. “You don't go hungry like you do up there.” He pointed with his thumb.
 

Blackavar made sure the boy was comfortably seated at a table before venturing elsewhere with a promise to return. Keith did not mind, content to talk to those still surrounding him. There must have been hundreds living underground, for there was no place he looked that lacked movement. Yet the chamber was a comfortable size, and accommodated each and every person with any need.
 

“Ain't hard to see who's new today.” A boy, no older than himself, sat next to Keith. Short red hair stuck up over his brow, accompanied by a few matching freckles around the nose. Pudgy cheeks contained dimples when he smiled, and his soft brown eyes shined with mischief.
 

Keith returned the greeting with a warm smile.
 

“I'm Toby. What's yers?”
 

“Keith.”
 

“You're a funny sort. What ya call it—albino?”
 

Keith shrugged. “I looked fine this morning.”
 

Toby laughed.
 

“I can tell we'll get along just fine!”
 

Keith was just finishing his stew when Blackavar returned, parting the remaining crowd of still curious onlookers.
 

“Feel better?” the thief asked.
 

The boy yawned with a nod. “Did you find Medallion?”
 

Blackavar chuckled. “Oh, he'll turn up when he wants. There's no rushing a magic-user.” He winked at Toby. “Got a room prepared for ye, and judging from that yawn ye'll soon be using it.”
 

“Already? But, Blackavar, I'm not,” Keith yawned again. “Well, maybe a little.”
|

“Come,” the master thief guided the boy down one of the tunnels. “Let's get ye settled for the night. Some new clothing could do as well.”
 

“See ya tomorrow, Keith!” Toby called.
 

Shortly after departing, the two entered a smaller room. Here, barrels contained fresh water, several with steam rising off the surface. Carefully, Keith dipped a finger to test its warmth.
 

“If you need to bathe, we've plenty of hot water. It runs through channels between the walls.”
 

“You have water between the walls?” Keith asked in surprise.
 

Blackavar motioned for the boy to look behind the barrels. There, a thin trough ran from the back to a hole in the wall. As Keith watched, water dripped down the channel and was swept away with other connecting troughs.
 

“They go all over the guild,” Blackavar said, “and it's all thanks to spring we found running beneath a Black Smith's shop. They always keep their fires burning, so the water's plenty hot. To cool it, we keep it in these barrels. Just have to wait it out.”
 

“How much water is there?” Keith asked.
 

Blackavar chuckled. “Probably enough to flood the entire main chamber, and still be some left over afterwards.” He led the boy into the next room. “So…ye ready to see yer new wardrobe?”
 

“Wardrobe?” Keith followed the thief and watched him slide back a panel in the wall. Inside, rows of clothing hung in all different shapes, colors, and sizes. Keith was awed at expensive looking robes. There were leggings and tunics, skirts and gowns.
 

“We have enough clothing to rival even a prince's wardrobe!” Blackavar exclaimed. “Choose yer pick. just don't pick yer choose, or ye lose!” He laughed.
 

“I've never seen so many!” Keith climbed inside and picked through them, trying to find one that fit.
 

“There you are! I missed you in the main chamber.” Blackavar turned to see a young man coolly striding toward them, confident as a falcon. His style of dress was similar to Blackavar's, with the exception of maple-brown leggings. Short, dark brown hair curled around his ears. Over one shoulder he carried a bow and arrows in an olive-green bag, which matched the color of his eyes. |
 

“Aldaris, ye proud bird!” Blackavar held out welcoming arms as the young man warmly embraced his friend in a bear hug. “Careful now! Ye're much stronger than I.”
 

Aldaris laughed. “They say I don't know my own strength. How true that is.” After setting the case of arrows down, he pulled back his shirtsleeve to flex his muscles.
 

“Impressive.” Blackavar nodded. “Now ye just need to work on appearance.”
 

Aldaris rolled his eyes. “You and your pathetic sarcasm couldn't match my strength even if you wanted to.”
 

“True,” Blackavar admitted.
 

“So where's this new member I keep hearing about?” Adaris scratched at a scruffy-looking beard beginning to grow. “I'll take him out with one arm.”
 

Blackavar chuckled. “I'm sure a finger would do.” He nodded toward the wardrobe just as Keith stepped out holding a dark tunic.
 

Aldaris was lost in that sapphire gaze. His head cocked at an angle while he studied the small boy's peculiar appearance. After a moment of silent concentration, his forced himself to look away.
 

“He ain't a chance up there, not with hair that color. Might get a couple of things, but even with a hood he'd be recognized after a while.”
 

Blackavar placed a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder.
 

“I'm sure a little…adjustment…is possible, but I do believe in the long run he'll make an exceptional addition to the guild.”
 

Aldaris was still doubtful when another member walked into the room. A gold medallion gently swayed over his breast. Gold rings shimmered on each of his ring and forefingers, and in one hand he carried a staff inlaid with golden swirls and diamonds. Even his long hair took on a golden appearance. Though his age was unclear, his walk carried him with dignity. A richly adorned, velvety robe of scarlet swished the ground with his long strides.
 

“Good evening to you, gentlemen,” the man greeted.
 

“Ah, our Master Mage.” Blackavar returned the greeting with a bow.
 

“Medallion,” Keith whispered, and sky blue eyes met his sapphire ones.
 

The wizard's smile broadened, his lean facial features complimenting his slender form.
 

“Uncommon, but intriguing. Do you suppose there's any magic in him?”
 

“Could be.” Aldaris adjusted his bow and arrows. “I thought albinos had pink eyes, not blue. Certainly, not that blue.”
 

“So…how `bout those clothes?” Blackavar quickly changed subjects, seeing the confusion on Keith's face. He glanced over what the boy had pulled out. “I think these will do. Why don't ye try `em on? Look, there's a panel over there. Ye'll have full privacy.”
 

Blackavar turned to Aldaris. “Why don't we have a few steals, hmmm?”
 

“Now? But there're no…” Blackavar clunked him on the ear and began dragging him toward the door. “Back in a few,” he said to Medallion. “I've got a goon to clobber.”
 

Medallion smiled. “Make that double for me as well.”
 

The Master Mage seated himself on a bench next to one of the barrels and rested both hands on his staff. Behind the folding panels he could hear Keith rustling with his new garments.
 

“I'm sorry if you were offended, my lad. Aldaris's tongue can be as sharp as his arrows sometimes.”
 

Keith appeared wearing dark pants and belt that fastened over a long shirt. Lastly, he included the pouch around his waist Blackavar had given him, hoping to one day fill it with treasures.
 

“Nice touch.” Medallion nodded in approval. He rose to study the boy. “But I'm afraid you won't get far with hair that color, at least not directly on the streets. Most people aren't accustomed to oddities, lad. You'd soon be recognized.”
 

“I could find something with a hood,” Keith said, but Medallion only smiled.
 

“No need, lad. I think I have just the thing.” He rested a hand over Keith's head and murmured a few words. When he took his hand away, a wave of dark color swirled through the boy's hair, changing it from white to coal black. The wizard guided Keith to a mirror hanging on the wall. “There! That should do it.”
 

Keith stared in disbelief.
 

“You like?” Medallion stepped to the side. “I inverted the color, which isn't hard since black is opposite white. A simple illusion that doesn't affect the natural color.”
 

Keith glanced up at the wizard. “So, in other words, it's still the same. It's just being covered.”
 

Medallion chuckled. “You are correct.”
 

Footsteps outside the room made Medallion turn his head to see Blackavar enter the room.
 

“You're just in time,” Medallion said, and Blackavar stopped and looked around, expecting to see something he might have overlooked.
 

“Where's Keith?”
 

“I'm right here.” The small boy stepped forward. “Look! I'm like you now!”
 

“Gracious!” Blackavar studied him in, a grin of mischief spreading over his face. “A spitting image of meself. Do you think we could pass as twins?” He lowered himself to Keith's level, receiving a hearty laugh from the wizard.
 

“More so if he steals like you,” he chuckled. “I think that'll do for now.”
 

“Great!” Keith continued to admire his new look. “'Cause I can't wait!”