Essence of Being a Thief

The Essence of Being a Thief

by Thralos Devneri

The man felt a wash of relief as the waves of the Padomaic crashed upon the rocks and sprayed mist in his face. He was safe on the other side of the channel in Gah Sadrith. Looking out on the sea, he saw the golden light of fading day reflected from the sunset.

It had been a lucrative day for Lethen Nerothran. He was an expert thief, skilled in both acrobatics and defusing magical traps and barriers. Within his cloak, he held a bundle of extravagant artifacts which he had "liberated" from the Telvanni Council's vaults in Port Telvannis.

He knew how to evade any pursuer and hide behind different aliases for as long as it took to lose a trail. "The wizard lords keep taking the hits," he thought to himself, amused at the success of this last job. "I expected better security in the heart of the capital."

Secunda appeared in the darkening sky. Lethen immediately set course for the nearest tavern to spend some of his well-earned loot on a drink. He wished to end his day on a lively note, to immerse himself in the roaring bustle of a full tavern. He hoped a bard would be there to add a resounding rhythm he could follow under the din.

As he approached the tavern door, he smiled to hear his wishes come true. "My lucky day," he thought. Two dozen or more patrons were shouting, laughing, and arguing. The moment he opened the door he was at home amid the cover of commotion. It was so pleasing and familiar; he thrived in this kind of atmosphere.

Certain that no one had followed him or watched his movements, Lethen shut the door and sat down at the only empty table. He shouted an order for a bottle of fine vintage brandy and adjusted his loot with care so it lay hidden at his feet.

As the bartender meandered over to bring him the brandy, a pretty Dunmer lass stepped in and brought it to Lethen herself. "Would you mind sharing your drink with a beautiful young lady?" she asked as she placed the bottle on the table. Her fiery rose-colored eyes caught his gaze. The streaks of violet in her long hair lowered his view to her plush lips and the slim, graceful figure of her body. The girl seemed to guess at his thoughts.

"So, are you ready to talk to me? If I'm not good enough for you, you'll have trouble finding a lady to match my looks or my charm. Not a one in Tamriel could make their man remember a single night forever... every little detail."

These words were the key; Lethen knew he had found more than brandy and rest. Tonight he would live in the moment. "Oh, no, I daresay you're right" he replied. "Your hair alone gleams of ebony and your scent is sweet like a desert rose, unlike bug musk. Please, join me."

The girl settled in the closest chair and filled a goblet she had concealed. "A toast to the night ahead and to the -- pleasures that await us." Lethen was now aching to get upstairs, but the girl started to ask questions. In an attempt to impress her, he confessed to being a talented thief with a reputation for stealing girls' hearts. His date kept her widened eyes fixed on his. She wanted to hear more, to hear his most impressive stories and all the ways he might steal her heart.

He lost track of an hour blathering on about his life. Cutting off his tale of how he saved an adorable maiden from certain doom, the girl asked, "How does it feel to make a living out of thievery?"

"The sense of danger is thrilling," he replied, "and being as careful and smart about it as I am, I reap the rewards and live to see another day."

"What rewards have you made off with this time, dear?"

"Quite an exceptional haul this time. I'd be glad to share my wealth with a lovely lass such as yourself, after this night is through. Perhaps you'll come away with me, and we can enjoy the luxuries together."

"Oh, you flatter me like no other! One last thing, darling," she said. "What is the essence of being a thief?"

"The essence? Er, I don't know; I haven't the slightest idea. I don't believe there is an essence to it. You just... steal, then count 'em when the deed is done. Here, here, beautiful. I've lost my taste for conversation, so why don't we go upstairs?"

The pretty young lass agreed and a moment later they were in the room, his body over hers on the bed. Lethen removed his shirt, unlatched his belt, and brought his hands up the length of her abdomen to feel her breasts through the fabric. He froze when a cold steel point pressed upon his chest. Too slow. The dagger punctured his left lung. She admired the dripping blood.

"Impatient, lustful, distracted," she murmured. "You were an easy mark from the moment you set foot in this tavern. A pity you became a thief; it's brash louts like you that disgrace my profession." With a quick pull she drew back the dagger and thrusted into his other lung.

Staring into Lethen's dying eyes, she whispered, "In these last, brief moments of your sorry life I will answer the question you couldn't. You see, the essence of being a thief is to be secretive, sera Nerothran. Didn't you notice that, while you told me everything about you, I never even mentioned my name?"