[color=CD2868][center][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5500451][img]https://i.imgur.com/a2NKAnu.png[/img][/url][h2][b]🎕 Talia of Roses 🎕[/b][/h2][/center][/color][b]//O11 - Deserted Backstreets[/b]

While Talia's options were vast on paper, they were actually deceptively slim. Predictably, each of her zero-cost hideaway options had downsides. 

The warehouse of the rats was free from human pests, but the natural guards had no qualms about the new self-proclaimed owners. Not only that, but the rats would eat any stowed away ration or leather goods. Not only that, but if the rats began to covet shinies for their lustre then she would have to constantly fight for her spoils. To die from a rat bite would be a pathetic way for a thief to go; the best death that a thief could have was one that was fake.

While the outskirts had an awful smell, the sewers were even worse. Talia simply couldn't bear to exist down there for long periods of times. Not only that, but the sewers offered little protection beyond the smell.

The abandoned watchtower was moments from collapse. At any time, their coffers could be buried. Not to mention, if they were inside it, they would join their riches in the afterlife.

The offer from a slumlord was the final option. It was a ball and chain, but one made of gold. While they had aligned themselves with a gang, it was as equal an opportunity as it was a risk. It was a great connection to more thieves. With silver tongue and perhaps a more earthly glib, she could convince the gang to be under her instead. Though that would come in time. If things went wrong, the local nature of the gang would make cutting and running to the other side of the city a simple option.

As such, Talia and her remaining two men had begun their renovations to make their suite a base worthy of a thieving divine. She'd continue this until either something interesting happened, her pickpocketing merry men came back, or they finished their renovations.