Apathetic (Project Nemesis)

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Sundas, 29th day of Frostfall, 4E 200
...

The letter was torn angrily and set on fire, erasing any possibility of future blackmail with it. The corpses and bloody mess around her does not help the first impression Riften citizens made of the nameless warrior. Maul grumbled a quick thanks to the stranger for assistance, which was returned with a frown. She left the area quickly, sticky liquid follows her footsteps. Cautious eyes kept their distance.

Smashing a bottle of fire to the corpses and lit the city nearly as bright as a foggy afternoon, her strange mask flickered with a strong green glow as she made her way towards the lower levels. After cleaning all of the bystander's pockets, of course.

The incident intrigued the green-eyed stranger, observing the shadowy figure as she slithered away, hands gracefully sweeping through the crowd. An excited grin appeared on his face, slipping through the mass of confused people and avoided a few suspicious guards.

The graveyard is empty. Silence is clouding the dark place with a dreadful aura, threatening anyone brave or stupid enough to come closer and see what's beneath the old tomb. Eerie whistling crack through the thick air as the coffin slid open, giving enough space for someone to sneak in or out without drawing much attention.

The musty smell of the Cistern attacks his nostrils with nauseating air for those who are not used to it. Stalking towards his guild chest, his ear caught shuffling and angry whispers from the other room. Outside is still dark and foggy, so most of the thieves are either out on a job or resting in the Flagon. Scrambling into his armor, he rush to the main chamber and found two beings having a quiet argument in front of the training room. He had never seen Mercer with face so furious, yet holding back his wrath. Unusual for someone like him. The other is the masked woman he saw at the marketplace, leaning back casually on the alchemy table. Bloody and flawed, her dark fur armor scratches against the table as she shifted around.

He was amazed by the speed she got there. Five minutes ago, she was stomping towards the lower levels. And now she's handling Mercer who is staring her down like an amused babysitter, twirling a loose hair from her hood.

"I thought you were kicked out of the Cluster. Why are you here judging me? You have no right to question our deal." The Guildmaster snapped, slamming his palms onto the table. Trapping the woman who is one head shorter than him. Startled by the harsh gesture, the red haired thief pivoted and joined the shadows behind the walls. At the same time, a much older, bald thief exited the Flagon, paused for a second and gave him a questioning glare. The redhead nods and motioned the other thief to hide and listen.

"I still have the right to judge the way you run this guild, my dear Mercer. I might have been expelled from the Cluster, but I still make the choices here." Another voice chuckled softly, familiar to his ears. He can't locate exactly where he had met or heard her, for he had meet lots of people. Intentionally or unintentionally.

"Oh, you make the choices, Your Highness?" Mercer's voice dropped dangerously low, setting thousands of alarms off. The woman just laughed again, straightened herself and pushed his chest. Stumbling, he took one step back, paused, and continued whisper-yelling at her.

"Mercer."

"You better get out of here before I dragged you out myself,"

"Mercer."

"I've had enough of you messing around with us-"

"Mercer, there's someone listening."

Surprised, the eavesdropping thieves came out of their hiding place and joined them reluctantly. Hundreds of questions screaming in their heads, begging to be asked. Now that they are under the bright light of the torches and standing still, the woman can freely scan them from head to toe. From under the hood and the strange golden mask, her violet eyes flickered between the thieves.