This is a common scene in this place. It's a medium-sized house in Anvil, right on the water where Regine can sit and read and watch the ships. She misses her sailing days. It's quiet here though, she enjoys that.

Methelde's asleep again. It's been a long night, she's been out "borrowing" some clothes and whatnot to make her job go a little smoother. There's a half-eaten loaf of bread and some brandy by her bed. Fermera will have to clean that up, she shouldn't leave food out, it'll bring bugs.

And Kolfhe's going to go for what's left of the drink of course. Go sit down, Kolfhe. Fermera's going to get you some food in a minute. Help you sober up. Oh shush, Methelde's not gonna be in a good mood if you wake her up. There you go, Tarenen, get him to quiet down, would you please?

Kolfhe's a big man, a Nord, and Tarenen's not the strongest elf in the world. So it takes some coaxing to get the other guy to quiet down. He's not a bad guy, big heart, just a little bit too fond of the drink. He's a friendly drunk, too. "C'mon Tare, come throw one back with me, c'mon," No Kohlfe, it's only eight.

The Nord lets his head fall back onto the chair and begins to snooze soon enough. Wud-Ne lopes in with his pockets full and shoots a look at the dozing beast in the den. Oh stop that, you know nothing's going to come of this. Fermera's arms quiver; she's not all that strong and she's carrying a large pot.

"Let me help you with that," and Wud-Ne is up and lifting the pot from the woman's little hands. She nods, murmurs a thank-you, and waits for the Argonian to set it down so she can get herself a bowl. Oh, she's forgotten the bowls-

It's alright. Regine's got some with her, when did she get into the kitchen? Shh, quiet with those, try not to hit them together so much. Methelde's still sleeping you know. Well, maybe she could stand to have an earlier wake-up time. All's well anyway, and each of the thieves in the den takes a bowl. Tarenen nudges Kolfhe awake; he's a little quieter now.

Eat boys, we've got work to do.

Regine eats little and leaves first, back to the edge of the water with a book under her arm. Fermera wishes she'd stay longer, she's so distant lately. Kohlfe is a slow eater too, but there's going to be a lot gone by the time he's done.

Oh look. Methelde's here, rubbing her eyes and dragging her bare feet on the wood floor. It's early by all of Cyrodiil's standards and they're all already up, she doesn't understand it... she gets a few friendly "good mornings" anyway. Regine's the only one that disapproves of Methelde's odd sleep schedule, and she's gone on her usual walk. She'll be back by noon. Girl's usually awake by then anyway. Tarenen offers her a bowl of the stew, some conglomeration of meat and vegetables and other things that may or may not be appetizing.

Fermera's a good cook, and Wud-Ne is a gourmand. If the food was as dubious as it looked, it wouldn't be in this house. So the Dunmer takes the bowl, sits down between sleepy Kohlfe and Tarenen, and chats with Fermera. They're almost like sisters- almost, because that one's like the den mother, and because Methelde never liked her sister much.

In the hours to come, this subdivision of the Thieves' Guild will live their lives like the rest of the citizens. Nobody will suspect what they do by night, how they're supporting themselves in that, admittedly, slightly lavish house. And the world doesn't question the fact that all five of them are boarding together in the place, as obvious as it is that they've no relation.

Several other groups like this one will be doing the same. Some operate by day, when homeowners are out. Some prefer the cover of night and brief dormancy. These five are Quickfingers- they're a small faction within the faction, holding friendly competition with the other "families" of burglars and pickpockets.

Tonight they work, eat like kings, and find a pub to stop by depending on where they end up. They're moving out to Skingrad. It's the beginning of their "tour of Cyrodiil," a cycle of moving from town to town to snatch what they may until they return to Anvil where they're based. Kvatch is in rough shape and the rain seems to be perpetual since the Oblivion Gate opened there. Someone's closed it, but the weather's not any better. So they finish their work here tonight and leave in the morning.

And in Skingrad, if The Silent haven't already moved out, they might meet up with that sister group. Then, perhaps we'll get a better look at those thieves.

Of course... Not many have.

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