The Thieves Guild by Jake Kerr. Episode 137: An Odd Team. Vesper couldn't get the last comment Allard whispered to him from under the sheet out of his head. We make an odd team, do we not, blade? Were they actually a team? Was Vesper even a blade anymore? If not, what was he? Looking out for himself was always his guiding principle, but that didn't explain everything he had done lately. Risking his life to save Allard certainly didn't fit that bill.
But the first question actually bothered Vesper the most. If he wasn't a blade, what was he? What role was he filling, and more importantly, what role did he want to fill? His thoughts were interrupted by a shout from behind. He had carted Allard's faux dead body nearly to the entrance of the mines, the bloody axe on the top of the cart and the gruesome neck protruding from under the sheet deterring anyone from lengthy questions or close inspection. But shouts were never good.
He picked up his pace. He was so close to the open road, he could practically feel the breeze. Stop that cart. So this is it, Vesper thought. Dying to a bunch of pickax-wielding guards afraid of the sun. He put the cart down and shoved Allard in the leg. Time to fight our way out, Headless. Do we at least have weapons? Allard lithely swung his body out from under the cart and got to his feet. He was still badly bruised and most likely had something or other broken.
I at least had the foresight to grab a sword. Vesper handed it to Allard as a bunch of miner guild members looked on the strange scene with mouths agape. But all I have is a knife. Are we near the exit? Vesper pointed to the huge tunnel entrance. It was hundreds of yards away. I suggest we run. Allard took off, and Vesper immediately noted that Allard wasn't running so much as limping fast. He also noted the eyes watching them.
A giant of a man in black rushing out of the mines wasn't something that someone overlooked. Vesper easily caught up to him. Stop them. The voice was from the distance behind them, but was clear enough. Still, no one stopped the Harvest Guild member running with the dagger and the large thief deputy running next to him. They were about a hundred yards from the massive mine entrance, and freedom, with two groups of Harvest Guild guards heading
their way. One was a fast approaching group of well-armed guards from the mine entrance. They didn't even need to hear the shouts from behind Vesper and Allard. They were guards and would have intercepted them anyway. The second group was presumably the guards that discovered the bodies in the execution room. They were still well behind the two of them. We fight forward. Vesper nodded. Standing their ground made little sense, and fighting their way through and out was their only hope.
It would require them to fight their way through the guards from the entrance fast enough that the guards coming from behind didn't catch up. Was it possible? Vesper had no idea, but they had no other options. When you break free, make your way to the guild tower. We need you. Vesper twirled his knife in his hand. No one in his entire life had said that they truly needed him. They used him. They relied on him. But no one had ever said they actually needed him.
In an odd way Vesper could not explain, he realized that the comment didn't inspire him, it filled him with hope. And then, the guards were upon them. There were six of them. Having seen Allard battle, Vesper would have placed hard-earned crowns on Allard to alone beat them, but Allard was clearly still badly injured. Vesper dodged to the left, and it was as he had expected. The guards were well-trained in the fundamentals, but lacked
any kind of practical experience. He kicked the back of one of the guard's legs, and as he lurched, Vesper stabbed him in the side of the chest under his arm. Dodging a slash from another guard, he glanced at Allard. The broadsword looked like a dagger in his hands, and he wielded it with a mighty force. He watched as Allard knocked two sword swings away like they were toothpicks, nearly cutting a guard in half with a downward swing.
Another kick, this time between two legs, and Vesper had dispatched another guard with a well-placed stab. He backed from a guard and stood next to Allard. Two guards faced Allard, and one faced Vesper. Should we spare them? Allard's question clearly terrified the guards, who stood at a distance and didn't seem inclined to know the answer to the question. Then, one of them smiled. Pounding footsteps. Vesper turned to the sound, and as he did, he heard Allard grunt. Get to the tower.
The words were followed by blood dripping out the sides of Allard's mouth, and then him raising the borrowed sword and lunging forward. It took only a moment for Vesper to take in what was happening.Alard attacked the three guards facing him and Vesper with a sword plunged nearly to the hilt, sticking out of Alard's back. Behind Alard was a single guard staring at the violent apparition that was the giant thief deputy, presumably unstopped by a sword in his back.
More guards were rushing up in the distance. All eyes were on Alard. Vesper knew what he had to do, and it was what he would have done in every other instance in his life: run to save his own life. Yet he paused. Could he save Alard? Alard himself provided the answer. "Run." So Vesper did. Rogers couldn't swim, so he was more surprised than thankful when the disruption of the huge rocks falling into the river created such chaos that the river carried him to the bank.
He had held his breath and was about to take a lung full of water when his hands felt mud and sandy dirt. Desperately clawing forward, Rogers took in huge gulps of air as his head emerged from the water. As he caught his breath, he looked around. He was not far from the bridge, or what was left of it. He couldn't see anyone else. The boats on the river were retreating from the violence, so there was no hope for anyone that fell that couldn't swim, and most of Ness couldn't swim.
The guards from the Knight Guild were dragged down in their armor. Even the horses were nowhere to be seen, their own armor making survival impossible. While destroying the bridge saved the Upper Quarter, it had been a mutual massacre. He looked around for any sign of Jhi. She was resourceful and strong, but could she swim? He scanned upstream and downstream, across the river and nearby, but he didn't see a single survivor from the destruction of the bridge.
Rogers had washed up on the Lower Quarter side. That presented its own danger, so he ripped off his green shirt and wiped every other bit of exposed green on his clothes with mud. Standing up, he looked around. He knew the Lower Quarter as well as anyone, but with all the fires, the chaos, and the guilds in a civil war, all his standard safe houses and allies were uncertain.
A safe house, Rogers thought. He could see if he could get to one across the throughway and near the bridge and find merchant colors. Even if the house was burned and empty, perhaps there was a cache of thief resources. He stumbled up and made his way to the throughway. All he had to do was not run into any knights or merchants. Unfortunately, the moment he rushed across the throughway, a group of merchant guild members ran toward him.
They were coming from the end of the throughway near the Great River and heading toward Trader's Bridge. "That's at least hopeful," Rogers thought. "They won't know what's happening." Seeing Rogers, the group, which was about a dozen people, didn't stop. They ran right past him. The person coming up the rear turned to Rogers. "Find shelter. Flee. The outlanders have invaded." Rogers changed plans. He stopped heading for a Thieves' Guild safe house.
He headed down the throughway and toward this invading force. Ness needed defenders. (dramatic music) A Podcast Alchemy production.