It was late into the evening that Matteo finally manage to find the silver-haired Etono. Though the youth had visited Roselia’s earlier that day, it was immediately clear that almost all adventurers had vacated the town to do their monster-slaying work. After inquiring a twin-tailed waitress, Matteo was directed to come back at sundown to the tavern. It wasn’t too hard to waste away an entire day, but it wasn’t too pleasurable either, and when the great clocktower chimed nineteen times underneath the shine of the twin moons, the shortsighted youth finally found his quarry. The interior of Roselia’s was cozier than other taverns, baskets of bright, hardy flowers hanging from the rafters while detailed timberwork made the ceiling look more spacious than it actually was. Waitresses ranged from young girls to mature women, while the bar was attended to by a mountain of a man dressed in a suit that looked one size too small. The adventurers here were of a more subdued sort; parties of five or six sipping quietly away at their mead as they dined. There were a few loudmouths here or there, but unlike the raucous folk outside, they were outliers for an otherwise relaxed after-work group. It was at the corner of the bar counter that Matteo caught a glimpse of that familiar silver ponytail. In those tight-fitting blue robes, Etono cut a rather handsome figure as he sipped a beautifully encrusted silver goblet, alone at the moment. But clearly not for long, if the eyes of other women within the room were indicative of anything. To Roselia’s Matteo was directed, and (being a dutiful boy who did what he was told by thieves and pigtailed waitresses) to Roselia’s he went. It was a pleasant place, he thought as he approached the figure at the corner of the bar, blurry silhouette like a patch of blue sky left over after sunset. The thief’s features sharpened as Matteo drew near and he cleared his throat in greeting. [b]“Ah—hello, nice to see you again.”[/b] His tone was pleasant as he stood politely to the side. [b] “It’s Matteo, we met last night. Do you have a moment?”[/b] [b]“Oh, Matt,”[/b] Etono turned, friendly smile and a half-raised mug, [b]“How’s it going? Got into the business yet?”[/b] Then, there was a blink. [b]“Lost your glasses?”[/b] Matteo raised his hand automatically as if to adjust them, self-conscious, and stopped just short of poking himself between the eyes. [b]“Ah, no—they broke. Got into a late-night scuffle after we parted,”[/b] he admitted. He seemed more thoughtful than sheepish as he took an empty seat beside the ponytailed rogue. [b]“And not yet. I was hoping you could help me with that, actually—you say the Thieves’ Guild is still recruiting?”[/b] [b]“Haha, well, that’s how it is when most of the population are the adventurous type,”[/b] Etono said, waving down the barkeep to fill a mug for the curly haired foreigner. [b]“Thieves’ Guild is always recruiting. Though I suppose it’s closer to always ‘accepting’ rather than actively searching, yeah?”[/b] As he spoke, the suited beefcake strode over, sliding down a dark, wooden mug containing a pale yellow beverage, bubbling softly as it sat before Matteo. He hadn’t been going to order anything—he didn’t have the funds to afford such leisure—but as the drink was served it occurred to Matteo he was extremely thirsty. Hours of waiting for this opportunity had made him tense, and at the end of the day, Etono’s gesture was much appreciated. [b]“Thank you,”[/b] he said and decided to make the mug his first priority before he turned back to the other man. [b]“I’d like to join, if that’s acceptable, but I’m a silver short of the guild fee. What do you recommend I do?”[/b] [b]“A silver short? Geez, what happened, you got robbed as well?”[/b] Matteo chuckled. [b]“That would be ironic, wouldn’t it?”[/b] Rather than admitting he’d probably been scalped by the Silver Moon recruiter into spending half his money on a tourist pamphlet, he took another drink and let the liquid settle in his stomach before continuing. [b]“I don’t suppose I could take out a guild loan…”[/b] He sighed. Etono shook his head, chastising Matteo.[b] “Gotta be careful with your money, kid. It’s not too much for me now, but back when I was starting out, we could hardly scrap together enough money to pay for rent. Playing with single digit coppers is hella hard. Think it took, what, a good three weeks before we could make more than a silver each a day?”[/b] The word ‘we’ was oddly reassuring, for it reinforced the assumption Matteo had made until now: save for their individual guild fees, the group of outsiders was a team. At least for now, they’d have to work together—pool cash, split rent. What that [i]meant[/i] was that, assuming he contributed in some way and that everyone else did their part, Matteo could coast. [b]“Of course, I’m starting to realize that now. You’re right,”[/b] he said, sipping his summery drink and wondering what kind of berry that was he could taste. [b]“I suppose I’ll have to start learning quickly.”[/b] For it not having been 24 hours since he’d arrived, the youth already been enormously reckless. [b]“Mhmm,”[/b] Etono nodded, before tapping a finger on Matteo’s drink. A silvery object splashed into the clear liquid, and the blue-robed thief eased back. [b]“That’ll be another future favor then, Matteo. Here’s to hoping you can make a silver a day by three weeks too, eh?”[/b] His brows raised in surprise as he stared down at the gleaming shape, which drifted for a moment before settling at the bottom of his glass. [b]“Are you sure? Thank you.”[/b] Of course, the other male had just said one silver was no big deal to him now—but the gift was sudden, and unexpected. [b]“I—well, yes. I’ll certainly owe you that favor. I’ll get started at the guild right away.”[/b] What he could possibly offer was beyond him, but perhaps in three weeks… well, who knew? Matteo lifted his mug to toast that possibility and sipped carefully, conscious of the prize at the bottom. Once he’d finished, he thanked Etono again and left the ponytailed thief to the hungry eyes of his female fans. ~~~ With just enough silver to pay off the humble registration fee, Matteo strode off to the unassuming building that was described in the guild census. Slipping southwards into the more seedy parts of Andeave, the curly haired boy did his best to avoid the baser temptations of the raucous southwestern quarters, from the rattling of dice and the shuffling of cards in the gambling dens to the many barely dressed ladies who occasionally cooed in the direction of the cute new face around town. Thankfully, no mobsters caught him and he didn’t encounter Old Bear at all, and the shortsighted youth stood before an unmarked building. The address and the directions looked about right, but it still seemed more like someone’s house than the headquarters of the Thieves’ Guild. But perhaps that’s the intention? A wooden knocked laid against the door. It was simply a matter of striking it. Assuming this wasn’t a test with some kind of trick answer, Matteo hesitated for only a moment, squinting around the doorframe to make sure he hadn’t missed some hidden instructions, before knocking. He stood on the step, Silver Moon tags arranged to be plainly visible on top of his foreign (and slightly bloodstained) shirt. A raspy, unidentifiable voice sounded from behind the door. [b]“What’s inside the turtle’s shell?”[/b] Matteo squinted. [b]“A turtle?”[/b] he guessed aloud. He probably should have studied the guild directory a little harder. [b]“I’m sorry, is this a riddle or a passcode?”[/b] If it was an intellectual challenge he might have a chance, but trying to land on some predefined entry phrase was going to be near impossible. There was silence, and then, a small compartment extended outwards beneath the knocker, like a cabinet without any grips. Peering into the little compartment (empty) Matteo sighed. It seemed something was expected of him. A bribe, or the registration fee? He didn’t have silver to spare for the former, and Etono had told him to be careful. Without a face to talk to, he could only address the closed door, feeling a little foolish. [b]“Ah--am I meant to put the seven silver in there?”[/b] [b]“Yes.”[/b] A little startled at having actually received an answer, Matteo raised his brows, hesitated, and then deposited the seven silver coins inside the little drawer. [b]“There you go,”[/b] he said, making a feeble attempt to push the compartment back in. It snapped shut instantly and the door creaked open moments afterwards, leading into an entrance way as pitch black as spent coals. With little other choice, Matteo stepped forward into the ominously dark entrance. The moment Matteo entered, a heavy kick swept his legs, before a sack was tossed over his head. Another set of hands restrained his arms as he slammed into the wooden floorboards, before the bite of rope made itself known over his wrists. Without being given time to breathe, the thin youth was promptly lifted off the ground and carried a distance, his stomach banging painfully against the sharp shoulder of whoever lifted him, before he was tossed into another room, bouncing once against the floor and sliding into a wall. The sounds of a door slamming shut and a latching locking it down was heard clearly through the sack, before the neighing of two horses resounded clearly. Within moments, Matteo was bouncing up and down within a carriage, speeding over unknown streets to [i]somewhere[/i]. Now, Matteo wasn’t sure what to think about all this. Alarming as it was to be suddenly ambushed, roughed up, and subsequently kidnapped, he supposed he had asked for it. [i]Paid[/i] for it, even. So in some ways he was already a willing accomplice in his own abduction, and that fact behooved him not to worry too much about it. He tried to accept that this was just some form of hazing, some introductory ritual that all Thieves’ Guild members had to endure before they became proper members. He believed this because it was a hope that was [i]easier[/i] than the second possibility: that things had gone horribly wrong, some misunderstanding had occurred, and that he was headed for a very bad end where a defenseless Matteo turned out dead at worst, lost and penniless at best. There was no proof this was the case. He lay still where he’d been thrown in the bumping carriage, arms still twisted painfully behind him, heart hammering in his chest. He was already regretting this. After an indeterminate amount of time bouncing along uncomfortably on the unknown road, he rolled over and managed to get himself to a kneeling position, smacking his face in the process. He was briefly grateful his glasses were already broken before he began unsteadily searching for something else in the darkness; a window or something else besides his own aching body in the back of the vehicle. What he actually found was a nail, which stabbed him enough to pierce the skin (much to Matteo’s displeasure). Once the muffled cursing from inside the sack was over, he felt gingerly for the sharp piece of metal and tried to hook the ropes binding his wrists around it. If he could cut through his bonds, he could free up his hands and take this damned hood off his head. He’d underestimated how damn sharp that nail was, and how rough the ride in the carriage would be. Trying to do anything with finesse (like saw through ropes with a moving nail) turned out to be quite the punishing endeavor. Fifteen minutes or so later, a Matteo with sticky, throbbing wrists covered in accidental puncture-wounds (still bound) had to retreat. He collapsed again in the other corner, wondering how much more he could bear being stabbed just to probably get tied up and blindfolded all over again once they got where they were going. Time passed as Matteo’s wounds throbbed until finally, after an eternity of suffering, the rocking of the wagon stopped. Outside, he could hear murmurs, before the latch was turned and the door was opened up. [b]“Phew,”[/b] a woman said, [b]“Sounds ‘bout right from the starting bit, huh, Bat?”[/b] The raspy voice replied indifferently, [b]“Good ideas, but no conviction.”[/b] [b]“Wouldn’t call this little thing an idea anyways, but hey, at least he tried, right?”[/b] [b]“You want him then? He’s all yours, Seaweed.”[/b] [b]“Thank you, Batty~ <3”[/b] A wet kiss sounded, followed by a displeased grunt. [b]“Now, let’s take a look at ‘im…”[/b] With that, the sack was yanked off Matteo’s head, the bright lit of a dozen burning torches causing him to twitch momentarily. As his blurry sight adjusted, however, he could just barely catch the trailing of a dark cloak as it drifted out of a hole in the wall. The bright smile of a comely young woman drew his attention away easily enough, however, her face leaning in to get a better look at him. With full lips, vividly red eyes, and shoulder length brown hair cut into blunt bangs, she looked every part the sort of ‘modern day woman’ that seemed at odds with this fantastical setting of monsters and thieves. [b]“Hey there, boy,”[/b] she winked, [b]“How you feeling?”[/b] Matteo struggled to find his tongue and came up with [b]“Hello.”[/b] His mouth felt dry. His wrists stung. [b]“Well. Could be… better…”[/b] He felt like his life hadn’t prepared him for normal conversation after such a painful and semi-traumatic event. The youth took a deep breath, wincing. [b]“It’s a relief to see who I’m talking to, at least. My name’s Matteo.”[/b] [b]“Seaweed,”[/b] she replied, holding out a hand before giggling when she realized he was still tied up. [b]“Sorry, sorry, gimme a bit.”[/b] With that, she leaned over, draping her arms over his shoulders as she pressed up against him. For a moment, Matteo was able to feel an extraordinary warmth and softness, before just as quickly, the woman slipped back, holding the bloodied, mangled length of thin rope in her hands. [b]“Bit better now, yeah?”[/b] Matteo let out his breath, having bit back a cry on reflex when the rope was removed. Seaweed was astonishingly quick, however. He gazed at the twine in surprise before pulling his hands forward, wincing again at the sight of the messy punctures. [b]“How did you do that? And yes, much better, thank you.”[/b] She hadn’t even used a knife. Feeling a little lightheaded (whether at the sight of the blood or merely from the brief body contact with the young woman) Matteo wiped a shaking hand on the hem of his shirt before accepting the handshake from before. [b]“It’s nice to meet you.”[/b] [b]“Mhmm! Surprised you didn’t cry during the whole thing. Very promising, really. Anyways, hope you told your buddies you’d be gone for a week, cause once we start, we’re not gonna get back to town till it’s over!”[/b] ...Why would he tell anyone anything like that? Matteo held back a sigh, thinking again that he should have looked over the guild directory more carefully. Oh well. He’d let the blonde girl or Muu borrow it, so they could probably look up the information if they really got concerned. He suspected they’d be busy with their own guild training though. [b]“Thank you, I suppose. And that’s fine, I appreciate you letting me know.”[/b] [b]“Cool cool,”[/b] she nodded, head bobbing up and down energetically, [b]“Let’s get you patched up and started then. Welcome to the Thieves’ Guild and all that jazz, Matteo. I know we’ll have a great time together!”[/b] With an energetic welcome after a harrowing carriage ride, his guild training began. What did it actually mean to become a Thief? He supposed he’d find out.