THE COLLECTORS BOOTY

In the country of Cullvenia or more specifically the city Forks, there lived a Baron. Sure, there were Baron's aplenty in the city of Forks, but the one I'm referring to was more renown than the many others. His wealth far exceeded that of most and he had no qualms about throwing his money about on silly collections and unnecessary luxuries. I suppose if he didn't spend so much on such trivialities, then he wouldn't have anything to gloat about to the copious amounts of sheep that greedily soaked up his every vain word. Yes, Baron Edward Mason was a prime pigeon, begging to be plucked clean.

The wife of aforementioned Baron however, had found the whole thing rather monotonous. Sure, she hardly complained about the luxurious lifestyle she had grown accustomed to, it was more the multitude of collections and the incessant gloating that she disliked. It displayed to the kingdom his foolishness, ergo hers in turn. Yes, Baroness Isabella Mason was a prisoner solely of her father's making; she would have never agreed to marry the strange and foolish Baron if it weren't for her fathers arrangement. She was a rat in a cage.

The wily thief was a collector himself. Of course, he didn't go about spouting about his collections to strangers, nor did he spend ridiculous amounts of coin on his hobbies either. One such collection of the thief's was phrases, he loved a good saying as much as the next Joe. One such example; sharing is caring. Yes, he very much wanted for the renown Baron to share his lucrative coin collection. Specifically, the Baron should share it with the thief. Yes, renown thief Jasper Whitlock is about to expand his repertoire to include a rare coin collection.

The moon was new and the black was pitch. The pinnacle of our tale will soon be upon us.

The Baron's castle was no exception to the Baron's conquests. Mason had boasted of their unscalability incessantly and the many elaborate locks and traps that surrounded and secured all his precious booty. A challenge nonetheless, but not impossible for a master thief.

Armed with two grappling hooks, a plethora of tools and a good supply of picks, Jasper had penetrated the "unscalable" walls and picked his way through a multitude of doors, all under the blanket of the moonless night. He was one with the shadows, all in a league of his own.

An expensive lock with over a dozen pins was his final obstacle to the Baron's private quarters. Childs play for a thief of his calibre. He wouldn't fib when asked about it, but he had spent over half of an hour working the lock. Until finally, the last barrier was out of his way. He slowly and carefully wove his nimble self through the many traps he had heard the Baron boast about on several occasions. The thief was actually impressed with many of the systems the Baron had conjured, but they still weren't enough for the renown Jasper Whitlock; a master amongst thieves.

A proud and sated grin morphed onto the thief's face when he finally fisted the collection of rare coins in a small cheap hessian bag. Ready then to escape with his precious booty, he found his escape route blocked with a mass of a man. The thief had not shut the door behind him which had aroused suspicion from the patrolling guard. The alarm was raised immediately and his escape looked bleaker by the second.

He had fled through the interior door which sadly led further into the belly of the fortress. Guards nipped at his heels as they bellow out loudly for back up. His superior strength, agility and stamina helped him get a lead on the stampeding guard. The pursuit didn't end, but he had lost the close-knit guards by hiding in a disturbing latrine. Information that he won't share too often.

Finally, he had found an escape from the suffocating fortress; through Lady Isabella's private quarters. Her door glided open smoothly as planned and his movements had made no discernible noise, but his sneaking was all for nought. She was awake and rather shocked by the sudden appearance of her new guest.

"Why, you're that thief that everyone speaks of. Why are you here? There is nothing here for you to take, or is it my virtue you wish to plunder?" She spoke with a trembling hand and a false sneer on her face.

The state of the Baroness however went unnoticed by the thief, he was more focused on his racing abundance of thoughts. Most distinct, the fact that a married woman still had virtue to speak of. The information shouldn't have shocked the thief as much as it did though, the Baron loved to boast about his acquire articles. A virtuous woman at his beck and call is one more thing for the Baron to gloat to his poker friends about.

"I do not, milady," Jasper replied, his thoughts still racing. "Plunder is such a harsh term to apply to such a… delicate flower."

Now, it should be noted that the Baroness was often referred as fair, but plain while our favourite thief was synonymous with his dashing good looks. Both facts mutually acknowledged and agreed upon equally by both parties.

"I see you have stolen something of my husbands, is it his gems, or his coins?" Her eyes spied the hessian bag, clutched by the thief's side.

He felt a bit saddened that he hadn't seen the gems, but that didn't mean he couldn't come back for a second shot at the Baron's booty. His mind finally settled its racing and his decision was made. If he wished to escape that night with his life, then a double sacrifice had to be made. The decision didn't sit well with the thief's sharing nature, but what had to be done, had to be done.

"These coins are undoubtedly valuable, but I have now found a treasure beyond any monetary value. So, tell me my lady, why does your husband set a plethora of locks and traps to protect his coins, but only a simple lock to protect his virtuous wife?"

"Edward protects those things that are most dearest to him." The Baroness replied bitterly.

"I would give up all the gold in my possession just to spend mere moments basking in your glory." The thief announced smoothly.

Isabella could of course taste the lie in the air, but her decisions should have been her own and not her fathers, or her husbands. Everything had been stripped from the Baroness, but she still had one thing that was hers left, something she didn't want her husband to take; her virtue.

The thief held out the precious coins that he had worked so hard for, the Lady took them with a small smile. A knock at her door prompted the Lady and she had led her guest to her wall in a hushed rush. She pulled out some false panelling for him to hide in, which he promptly did. The Baroness handed over the bag of coins to the guard and explained how the wily thief stole through her room and left via her balcony, dropping the bag of loot in a panicked state. Her story was feasible, and the guard didn't bother to speculate about it. The prized collection was safely in the Baron's hand, that was all that mattered.

With that sore sacrifice made, Whitlock then steeled himself for his second. He stole what the Baron could never retrieve; the Baroness's virtue. In fact, he stole it several times that night, well into the early hours of morn before finally stealing away in the predawn hours, exhausted and sated.

Needless to say, the thief had already decided to return to steal more of the Baron's booty.

THE END

A/N: THIS SHORT STORY WAS INSPIRED BY 'THE THIEF OF VIRTUE'; A SHORT STORY FEATURED IN 'THE ELDER SCROLLS IV: SKYRIM' HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT.