Neil laughed to himself, the sort of evil chuckle one gave when they were facetiously performing for themselves. He had hit the eye of the ungor, as they said in middenland. Neil had even found some Ulthuan Dreamwine, which might be a pit too rich for him but he would try anything once. The chocolate wasn't stashed in his pack yet, nor the drinks, but he was making a pile of 'to steal' things in the corner of the storehouse so he could just sweep it all in and flee in one go. It might be a bit superfluous, but he might climb out of the window, though glancing up at the portal, he wasn't sure if it was feasible. 

"Ok so," he whispered to himself, taking stock of the stash he had accumulated. "This should be enough for three days, even considering Emma's bottomless pit of a liv-" 

"Hey! Who the hell are you!?" A strong voice asked, Neil spinning to see the gateway opened, a burly 'clerk' looking at him with accusatory eyes. He pulled out a cudgel, gripping it so tightly Neil saw his knuckles whiten. The man approached, Neil stepping to the left to keep away from his picked stash. Especially the chocolate. It looked easily smooshable. "Answer me, drawlatch, or I'll silence you for good!" 

"I'm just inspecting the stock, I promise." Neil said, holding up his hands. He idly stepped closer to the racks of alcohol. "I got hired last week." 

"Oh, last week, eh?" The man echoed, mirroring Neil's movements to make sure the thief had no escape route. Luckily for Neil, he wasn't looking for an escape, and instead nestled himself just beside the crates and the rest of the alcohol stock. The man gave a practice swing of the blunt instrument in his hand. "Last week Karl Franz gave me a runefang and kissed my arse. That's about as likely as you being hired by the Golden Kettle Company!" 

He gave a wide swing at Neil, the thief ducking, cudgel swinging wildly over his head. Neil was going to kick out, but the man wasn't hired just because he was big. He stepped out of Neil's reach and came back in, this time slamming the cudgle into the ground, Neil barely having time to dodge. The guard hadn't noticed Neil's hand gripping the neck of a bottle, and as he stepped to the right his arm swung, the thick glass cracking over the man's head. It shattered, blood and alcohol sliding down his scalp. He cried out, catching himself as he near lost his balance. Neil saw the man's eyes listless and unfocused. Unfortunately, he didn't think the fellow had the frame of mind to swing again, but he did. Neil was hit by a surprise strike, hitting him in the shoulder. 

"Ack!" Neil hit the crates, just as the guard was charging in at him, wanting to press home the advantage. Neil leaped up, pulling himself above the charging man. His balance still a bit untethered, the alcohol he slipped on didn't help him the next few moments. He hit the crates like a bull, only he had no horns. Neil winced when he hit the wood with his already bleeding cranium, the man falling back and slipping into unconsciousness, the cudgel falling from his limp fingers. 

"Shallya's mercy, that was close," Neil marveled, slowly climbing down. He stepped over the fallen guard, nearly slipping on the alcohol himself, but managed to make it over to the pile he had gathered and shoveled it into his pack like a dwarf shoving precious stones into a minecart. Carefully, he hefted the sack behind his back and left the man there, closing the gate behind him and walking back into the thoroughfare, climbing over the wall just as another group of men walked past. He would circle round to the front and wait by the alley for Emmaline. He hoped she was alright.