Master Thief [Dishonored x Thief 2014]

Chapter 1

Corvo was tired. He had been on the whaling ship for months, now. The trip to pandissya had been especially gruelling, but they were running out of options. After failing to garner support from every other isle within the empire, they were forced to turn their sites towards The City.

Dunwall was desperate. The rat plague had plunged entire districts into quarantine and was only getting worse. The royal spymaster, Hiram Burrows, had suggested the empress send Corvo himself to drum up a sufficient amount of sympathy. Corvo is not a diplomat, he knows this, he is good a looking big and scary, not appealing to whatever nobility happens to be in charge. Jesamine, however, seemed to think it was a wonderful idea.

"I trust no one as much as you, Corvo," she told him. The man didn't see what trust had to do with it - beyond organizing a poorly timed coup - but found himself nodding along anyway, just to see her smile. She didn't do so enough anymore. If this mission eased even a fraction of her burden, he was willing to go, no questions asked.

Corvo found he knew little to nothing about The City. He didn't know anyone from there, or anyone who had been, for that matter. The all fishermen operating the ship did however have a comment or two from their fish sale exploits.

"Dreary," one had said, "I've ne're been outta port, but the locals can spot a foreigner a mile away, I swear! Not too friendly 'bout it, either."

"I heard they got a place called "The House of Blossoms". They say the service is legendary. Exclusive to those with money, though, more's the pity," another solemnly supplied.

Corvo stopped asking after that one, afraid further inquiry would be mistakenly taken as an invitation to continue on about the ladies of the night.

-0-

Days later, Corvo was grateful to be back on solid ground. There was only so much senseless chatter he could take. Geoff Curnow appeared to take it in stride, happy to chatter back to all the seamen. Corvo was in awe of his social skills many a time these past months. He's be lost without to man to save his graceless bumbling.

The Eternal City's port was oddly normal, he'd been expecting something more sinister. It was foolish, he supposed. Even a city with a whole district dedicated to whores looked normal on the outside.

Corvo wondered, not for the first time, just how bias his procured information was.

There were not terribly many ships docked, and most fairly small fishing boats, not meant for travel. Guards patrolled the area, and citizens went about their afternoons in relative peace. Farther away, he caught sight of a pub. It was normal, down to the scent the scent of rotting fish that seemed to cling to everything. Corvo, having lived in Dunwall for so long, couldn't say he wasn't used to it. Whale is worse, he thought.

Corvo then noticed the glares aimed his way. At least one tidbit was accurate. The gazes quickly slide away, anyhow.

They were met at port with an escort from the baron. There had been letters sent previous to his arrival in all areas, so of course, they were expected.

The ride to the Northcrest manor was mostly silent, with occasional questions from the captain beside him.

"Overall, how do you think the people feel about the baron—I see." He added at the sigh from the coachmen he'd been  talking to through the window.

We're here to beg for help, not check up on the economic state, Corvo thought a little annoyed. Apparently, the captain had other ideas.

They still use horses to pull carriages, here, he noticed. This was a theme in the more remote parts of the empire, where the whale oil fuelled industrial advancements hadn't yet reached.

At least the stench wouldn't follow them out of the docks.

The manor, an expected, was large. Too large for one man, surly. The inside, surprisingly, wasn't overly grand mostly made up of expensive woods and tile.

Baron Northcrest met them in the foyer, hobbling along on a cane. The man had sparse white hair, and a hunch to his back. The black leather gloves he wore and his dark cape, made for a sinister colour scheme usually only worn by those not wanting to be seen. Very odd, indeed.

"Welcome, gentleman. I trust you had no trouble during your travels?"

Curnow shot the man his winning smile. "No problems at all, smooth waters."

That was a lie. They'd hit a storm about midway through the week, a few men got injured, getting tossed around by the lurching of the ship.

"Good, good. Come, you must be travel weary. We can save business for tomorrow." He hobbled away, expecting the two to follow.

They do. They are shown to their rooms, and settled in until dinner. The meal is pleasant enough, Corvo supposed. He didn't have much to say, however Curnow covered any awkward pauses his lack of input caused.

"Watch your purses, should you decide to venture to the other side of the bridge," the baron mentioned between sips of tea, "I'm afraid we have something of a thief problem."

Corvo was entirely unsurprised, and curnow gave the other a sympathetic smile, "we will be careful. Anything else we should watch for?" He asks.

The baron was quiet for a moment. He let out a dramatic sigh before sitting his cup down. "I should hope that with your reputation, if you run into him, he won't steal you blind like he has all the others," intense eyes flicked to Corvo.

"The Master Thief," he continued, "is quite notorious around here. I assume this is not so in Dunwall?" At their confirmation, he nodded. "He's a ghost— never seen. Will rob you of everything, and leave no trace of his presence. Some swear he can walk through walls, has no need to crack safes. Others claim him a demon, a deformed beast of a man silent as shadow."

The theatrical tone is making it hard for Corvo to resist rolling his eyes. This sounds like the stories of superstitious common types, making a spectacle of petty theft. Nothing to be taken seriously, surely. Captain Curnow seemed to share the sentiment, by the strain in his smile.

Apparently, the offending man could tell he wasn't being taken seriously and huffed.

"This isn't no 'Clocktower Ghost' story, I assure you. In all likelihood, the Master Thief is simply the ring leader of a gang of organized thieves — tricky to catch and dangerous."

Curnow settled a little at that.

"There's a significant reward for any information on his whereabouts — assuming it leads to an arrest — if you managed to catch wind of anything." The baron mumbled like a man who'd lost hope, and for good reason.

They were not in The City to hunt ghosts.

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I hope this is alright. I'm planning slow burn, but I'm not experienced at all, so we'll see what happens.

Depending on how long this first segment is, I might split this into two books?? Again, we'll see~

Thanks for reading :)