Some Guilds were clever enough to have fronts. Other Guilds were able to remain hidden in various locations. Most Thieves Guilds hid in plain sight. The Guild of the Seven Crows was no exception. What appeared to be an abandoned complex or storage area, with the windows boarded shut and the 'doors' perpetually locked was actually a cunningly placed guildhouse in the middle of the mercantile district of the city. One could only get in either from the sewage tunnels or the roof, or a few secret passageways in three key alleys. 

Galt waltzed down the well furnished corridor, always able to see the riches a successful thief or guild master might one day obtain, but always out of his reach. Various doors were archways into large, sybaritic rooms with canopied beds and cushioned couches. Most of them owned by the highest ranking or most successful of thieves. The Master even had his own harem, though a few of the women were likely members of the silent sorority and could likely give Galt a run for his money in a fight if their own guild leader gave the word. Likely the Old Crow knew it as well, but there was a web of espionage there Galt wasn't about to question or delve too deeply into.

As he turned into the next corridor, just outside the planning room, a familiar face halted him. Galt had nearly bumped into the thug.

"If it isn't Jack Prick-Finger," Korlam the Rough scoffed, sporting his vest of knives and his weaponized breath. He and Galt had been at odds ever since they had met nearly a decade ago; always trying to one-up one another. Galt had gotten the better of him a thousand times over, but he never forgot or forgave the two times Korlam had bested him. One was in front of a girl he had fancied, and the other indirectly caused him to lose part of his finger. Korlam grinned. "I saw that lass you're meeting with. Hope you don't slow her down. We both know you aint cut out for stealing." 

Galt smirked, flipping a knife he had slipped off of Korlam's jacket, much to his rival's annoyance. He continued to flip it casually. "I don't know about that. I can steal your heart easy enough. And not in the romantic, symbolic way. I'm meaning the bloody, murderous way." 

"Is that so?" Korlam responded, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Maybe we can take each other up on that offer." 

"Later," Galt agreed, as violence in Guild halls were strictly prohibited. He tossed the knife back at Korlam, not caring how he was going to catch it. To his credit, he plucked the knife out of the air with ease, albeit slightly less gracefully than Galt would have. It didn't matter, Galt had moved past him as he caught it, using it as a distraction to make it into the planner room. As he closed the door behind him, he locked it with the three anti-pick locks in place, and spun to lean on the door to survey his 'partner.' 

"Ah," he said, recognizing the girl's face from vague recollections, having never pinpointed her face with the name Kashvi. He reached into his black jacket and pulled out their orders. He had tried to read through them earlier, but they required a magical activation key from this very room, which would then unlock the witchsand and it's movements. He offered her the papers since she was just beside the table. "Ready for a bit of fun?"