Walk by the Shadows

V. Yondis Trading Warehouse

They camped just down from Macayla's cache then in the morning made a quick stop at Karthwasten to steal some fruit from some miner's home to break their fast as they headed east for Yondis Trading Warehouse. Only three days had passed since Brynjolf found her and they had travelled a large distance, but Macayla didn't hurt at all now. Her feet ached in protest, but her body didn't feel as if fists and feet had pounded into it.

As they grew closer to the warehouse, Macayla described the layout.

"It's built into a cave, which has been mostly hollowed out to store their merchandise. Guards are posted throughout, but we can use the stacks of merchandise to sneak by them easily. I've only been in there once, but I remember how to get to Edvar's office. Outside are the stock items; he holds more valuable objects inside his office."

"So, what are your plans once we get in?" Brynjolf asked.

"We have to approach this differently than what we're used to. When Edvar returns and sees that my weapons are gone, he'll know that I'm not dead; so once I find my things and you get whatever you want, we'll trash the place like bandits had gotten in, not thieves who leave things as they are."

"Never done that before." Brynjolf chuckled. "I think it'll be fun smashing things."

***

Twenty miles from the Hold Capital of the Reach, Yondis Trading had their main warehouse safely tucked away in a cave. A dirt pathway wound through the boulders and sparse foliage to a wooden door. To any passerby, it looked to just be another bandit camp with an armed lookout semi-hidden beneath the shade of a tree. Macayla and Brynjolf watching the guard knew what loot waited inside.

They hid in some underbrush watching to memorize any habits. He didn't patrol the entrance, just stood with his back propped against the tree like a statue. Almost too still like he—

His head bobbed and Macayla smiled. He was near the end of his shift and sleepy. Edvar's greed in not wanting to spend septim on more frequent guard shifts meant this man had probably already been on lookout for about twenty hours now. And the day shifting colors for evening gave them a few more hours before the next rotation. Edvar made it easier to rob him.

She looked at Brynjolf crouched beside her to point to her left. The guard's position was convenient for them: there were a few feet between the tree and part of the cave's face. He nodded that he understood.

The thieves quietly snuck past the back of the sleepy guardsman, giving him a wide enough berth that if they stepped on a twig or rustled some leaves, he wouldn't whip around in alarm. They didn't make a sound as they reached the rock wall and began inching their way down it to the door, careful to move cautiously and quiet their breathing, for they were now close enough for him to hear them breathing.

The nodding-off guardsman never turned, his sixth sense not warning him of a presence behind him. He was probably too tired to notice.

Since Macayla led, she rounded the corner and squatted down at the door; Brynjolf stayed crouched beside her, eyes glued on the lookout. It wasn't dark enough yet for the torch bracket to hold a lit one, so Macayla only had a dim light as she picked the lock. Seeing the actual lock would've been nice so she wouldn't have scraped the metal seeking the lock, but she honestly didn't have to see; she only needed to feel and hear.

She worked slowly and carefully, not getting anxious to get the door open before she could get caught and breaking the flimsy picks. It didn't take her long before she felt her pick slide into the exact slot and she turned her knife as the key unlocking the door. A soft click announced her success.