The Blade Of The Craft Guild

Decent Essays

The Blade of the Craft Guild realized his mission would be much more difficult than he expected when less than twenty steps into the Wretched Quarter a man in a torn and dirty black robe confronted him. The Blade was covered in filth, had on a dirty and torn yellow tunic, and should have looked like any other wretched Craft Guild citizen returning from across the river. Yet the man made a beeline to him.
“Name your guild,” the man asked.
“I am a Custodian. I clean the floors in the Warehouse District.” The Blade couldn’t quite believe he was seeing a man in black. Maybe there was some roving gang that liked to pretend they were the heir of Pietro or something. He dropped his hand to the stiletto sheathed against his leg.
“Where do you live?”
The Blade nodded in some vague direction. “Over that aways.”
“Which street?”
The man in black was not backing down. The Blade couldn’t quite figure out what was going on, but he didn’t want to raise any alarms either. “Who wants to know?” The Blade hoped that moving to an aggressive approach might do the trick. The gang member was probably used to people cowering in front of him.
To the Blade’s shock, the man in black didn’t even ask another question. He reached out and grabbed the Blade by the arm. “You’re coming with me.” The man’s grip was like iron, and the Blade was yanked nearly off his feet.
Looking around, he was surrounded by quite a few people, but not enough to stop his escape, which was good as he had very few options. He

Get Access