Update! Oh, and I'm accepting OC's for both of my Sharah the Wolf stories. Just for anyone who is interested.

The more time Sharah spent on the Waterfront the better she understood what she had gotten into. And thank the Divines she'd had no idea at the start or she would have never set foot down here. The Waterfront District didn't just have a few criminals in residence. It was positively teeming with them. Once Sharah got the hang of the place, she saw pickpockets and back alley deals happening just about every day. The pirate ship had left port the day after she'd bought the house, so at least she was spared the piracy. But after a while, it was impossible not to see what was going on in her neighborhood.

Oddly enough, Sharah's defense of the Bosmer, Adanrel, had given her a positive reputation of sorts. And Jair had been right about word traveling fast down here. Right after her chat with Jair, it seemed she was counted as one of the Waterfront's residents. Sharah suspected that was because she'd shown no intention of turning in the criminal who'd introduced himself. She might not be a criminal herself, but she wasn't rigidly lawful and let the criminal class do what they needed to get by. Logically, the situation down here left them few other options.

Sharah found she actually understood where they were coming from. Not everyone could handle the Fighters Guild work or the dungeon diving like she could. Some of them had to steal to eat. And, as twisted as it seemed, Sharah figured there was always going to be criminal activity and the Waterfront seemed as acceptable a place as any for it to happen. So, why get worked up over it? The acceptance made her a full member of the Waterfront community.

Not that it gave her immunity to the crime part. Her third day living in the poor district, some kid tried to pickpocket her. Sharah caught him, just about breaking two of his fingers when she did. Sharah hadn't been pick-pocketed since. But a lesson was learned on both sides. They knew not to steal from her person. She knew her possessions weren't safe unless they were on her person. Which complicated things when her Ra Gada urge started itching.

Sharah was having drinks with Breni and Gladion at the Bloated Float celebrating her latest Arena victory. But her mind wasn't on the celebration, and she couldn't keep still.

Gladion watched her tapping finger. "What's got you so on edge? You won. I'm sure the Blademaster won't let Ingle try anything like that again. Just because she's Yellow Team Champion, doesn't mean he's gonna let her do whatever she wants. I mean, two opponents at once was just unfair. Not that you couldn't handle it. The way you separated them—that was ingenious. They never saw it coming."

Sharah kept tapping her finger on her mug. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks."

Breni said, "What is wrong with you?"

Sharah took a vice grip on her mug to keep still. "Neither of you is Redguard, so I'm pretty sure you won't understand. I'm just itching to get out of the city. But…I'm not so sure about leaving my things in my house."

Breni looked cockeyed at her. "You're Redguard?"

The, meanwhile, Dunmer shook a finger at her. "I warned you about thieves, didn't I?"

"It's not thieves I'm worried about," Sharah snapped. Well…it was. But if she lived on the Waterfront, then she had to play by Waterfront rules. That meant keeping all the criminality that she saw, to herself. "I'm just…thinking about my father's sword. I'm tired of lugging around two blades when I only use one. I don't want to stop using my father's blade, but Chillrend is a better fit for me overall. I'm trying to pick one to take with me…and this damned Ra Gada Urge isn't helping."

Breni coughed. "Raga-what?"

Sharah sighed. "Nevermind. Look, I gotta take a walk. Get some air. I'll see you guys later."

Being outside helped. But only so much. Subconsciously, Sharah knew she was still within city walls, still enclosed. It wasn't claustrophobia. Sharah actually didn't mind delving into caverns and wandering through close quarters. It was just this drive to go from one place to another. A drive that was going to give her some ungodly rash if she didn't do something soon.

But leaving her house…Sharah couldn't keep carrying her life on her back. It's part of why she bought the house in the first place. But if she left her father's sword behind and someone stole it while she was gone…It was all she had left of home. The sword wasn't anything special. Just a sharpened piece of steel. But it was more precious to her than its weight in gold. If it was lost to her…

The door to the Bloated Float opened and Isleif the Open-Handed stepped outside. He was one of the thieves she'd picked out on the Waterfront. In fact, he lived with Jair in the house directly in front of hers. Since they were her neighbors Sharah had made a point to stay on friendly terms with both of them. He was apparently very generous when it came to the poor and destitute. And he'd made it clear on several occasions that she was neither and would receive no handouts from him. Which meant she didn't know why he was walking toward her.

"Evening, Isleif. Something I can do for you?"

"I overheard you talking with your friends in there," he said.

So this was going to be a serious conversation. Sharah reassured him, "I'm not saying anything about the Waterfront to anyone. No one has to worry about that. It was just some personal issues. You're a Redguard. You've had the Ra Gada Urge before. That's all that was about."

Isleif glanced around discretely. "You're worried about that sword of yours getting stolen while you're out adventuring, right?"

Sharah sighed. Had her lie been so translucent? "Yeah, that's about it."

The thief took another, less discrete look around. "I told you that you weren't gonna get any handouts from me."

"Only a few times, yes."

He lowered his voice. "Well, this isn't a handout. But if you want your house protected when you're not in it, then tomorrow night go to the Garden of Dareloth. Midnight. Talk to Armand Christophe."

"Armand Christophe…my other neighbor? Well, why don't I just go knock on his door?"

Isleif shook his head. "That's not how this works. You want to make a deal, you talk to Armand Christophe at midnight tomorrow, in the Garden. You do what he says and he'll fix you up."

Sharah replied, "Alright, Isleif. So where is this Garden?"

XXX

Sharah arrived in the Garden of Dareloth before the appointed time. And it seemed she was not to wait alone. Already in the Garden stood two people: a shabby looking Argonian, and the brunette Bosmer Sharah had met the other day. Her mood hadn't improved since their encounter. The moment the Bosmer saw Sharah, she turned up her nose with disdain and refused to make eye contact again.

She traded greetings with the Argonian, then looked for a place to set herself until Armand Christophe arrived. Actually, the top of that wall looked like a nice spot. Sharah decided she didn't much care about what these other two thought of her, so she took a hurried start and leapt up to grab the top of the wall. Then she pulled herself up the remainder of the way and settled on the top.

Wow…From up here, the whole Waterfront looked spread out in front of her. The rooftops of the shanty-town were all she could see, hiding the clutter and the dinginess beneath. The water of Lake Rumare glistened under the moons' light beyond the thatched houses. Sharah drew a knee up to her chest and leaned her back against the great wall behind her. It looked like the whole world was laid out before her toes. Enough for her Ra Gada Urge to let up a bit.

Not much later, the bobbing light of a torch could be made out reflecting against the shacks and climbing up the Waterfront's stone rib. The other two present stood up eagerly, and even Sharah looked toward the Garden's entrance in expectation. Sure enough, Armand Christophe entered the walled off little enclosure in which they had gathered.

That was the man who'd met her eyes that first morning she'd left her shack. He seemed more in his element here, though. He looked at each one of them in turn, his eyes passing from the Argonian, to Sharah, to the Bosmer without any indication that he hadn't expected each one of them.

Sharah shifted around and let her legs dangle off the inside of the wall. Now, she supposed, they'd begin their business. Sharah had seen some of those back alley deals going down. But, per Waterfront rules, she'd turned her head and pretended not to have seen. She never thought she'd be involved in one though. But this would be worth it. After her latest win and earnings at the Arena, Sharah had resisted buying some wall-hangings for her home in anticipation of this. She didn't know how much coin Armand would demand for her house's protection. Such payments might not be all that worth it right now with her house virtually empty, but as she accumulated possessions it would be worth it to have some good-will built up with…whatever she was getting into.

Armand looked between them once more. "Alright, everyone is here. We can begin. Each of you is seeking admittance to the Thieves Guild."

The darkness must have hid Sharah's widened eyes. Wait, what? A guild for thieves? Was that why the Waterfront had its own rules? She could tell there was some organization to it all but an actual guild?

Armand continued, "The Thieves Guild is not a myth. We are followers of the Gray Fox and I am his Doyen. The Guild is not for just anyone. If you earn membership you will be expected to follow the rules. But you'll reap the benefits as well. But merely by being here, you've passed the first test."

Sharah was reeling. A Thieves Guild? The Gray Fox? That was the man on all the wanted posters she'd seen around town. And he had a following? And what test? The other two weren't even fazed by all this. Like they'd completely expected to hear everything the man was saying, while Sharah had been caught completely off guard. She'd really stepped in it this time.

Sharah dropped off the wall. "Um, Armand? I think there's been some kind of mistake. I'm not here to join any guild." By the way everyone else stiffened, that was perhaps the wrong thing to say.

Armand's expression darkened. "Then why are you here?"

Sharah insisted, "I'm just here to make a deal. I want to protect my house from break-ins and Isleif said I should come here tonight."

The Bosmer laughed. "I knew it. She's no thief. Look at what she's done while down here. She makes her living killing things."

Sharah ignored the mer and continued to address Armand. "I'm really sorry about the mix-up. I can come back another time."

The Bosmer continued to sneer. "Why don't you just clear out of the Waterfront entirely? You don't belong here."

Sharah's pride and temper perked. "None of this was directed at you, tree-climber. But if you've something to say, the up and say it."

The woman set hands on her hips in a defiant pose. "Fine. You don't have what it takes to make it on the Waterfront. You're not a thief. You're just a mark. And a pathetic one at that because you don't even realize it."

Sharah jabbed a finger at her. "I am no mark. I could handle myself just fine. I choose not to. And for your information, I don't just kill things for a living. I kill people. Care to test me?"

"Typical Arena grunt," the Bosmer scoffed. "Falling back on a sword when you haven't the skill for anything else. Why don't you literally fall back on it next time and do us all a favor?"

"Why don't you pull the leaves out of your ears and hear this. I'd make a better thief than you. If you can call yourself a thief, it can't possibly be that difficult." This mer was just rubbing her against the grain.

"I think I've heard enough," Armand interrupted the women's glaring match. "If Isleif sent you here, then you're in the right place. Members of the Thieves Guild are forbidden from stealing from one another. And the Guild looks out for each other's homes. Especially here on the Waterfront. As a member, everything you owned would be protected."

The Bosmer blanched. "You can't really think she'd make it in the Guild. Just look at her!"

Sharah snapped, "I'm right here."

"You couldn't steal a sweetroll from a child."

"I could out-steal your sorry-Bosmer-butt any day of the week." Sharah was hardly paying attention to what was coming out of her mouth. She could just not stand this woman.

"Then it's decided," Armand interrupted again. "Instead of a normal test of skill, I'm going to make this a contest."

The Argonian, who had had no part in any of this up until now, was distressed as he spoke up, "But, that's not fair."

Sharah and the Bosmer continued to glare at each other. "Fine." "Works for me."

Armand nodded at the agreement. "I will choose an item. The first to bring it to me will earn the right to join the Thieves Guild. You cannot kill the mark. And you cannot kill each other."

The last seemed to be directed to Sharah in particular. Sharah snorted at the insinuation that she'd even do it, but nodded. Armand didn't seem convinced. "Why don't you two make nice before we start. We can start with proper introductions."

Both women were resistant but ultimately clasped hands.

"Methredhel."

"Sharah."

"Thief."

"Adventurer."

"Steel-slinger!"

"Squirrel!"

"And Amusei," the Argonian piped in. He fell silent when both women glowered at him.

Armand shook his head, but moved on. "Before I give you your target, you should know that the beggars can be an invaluable source of information. They are called the eyes and ears of the Gray Fox for good reason. But keep in mind, they won't tell you much for free. And I can sell you lockpicks if you need them."

Methredhel fidgeted impatiently. "What's the target?!"

Armand answered, "Your target is the diary of…Amantius Allectus."

Methredhel shot Sharah a glance. "I'll have it before sunrise." The mer took off with Sharah close behind.

The run gave Sharah's mind enough time to catch up with her. What in Oblivion had she just done!? She was trying to join the Thieves Guild? What had she been thinking? She hadn't been thinking. That was it. All she had been thinking about was one-uping that wood elf with an attitude. Damn her pride!

She wasn't a thief. Whatever had irked Sharah, Methredhel had been absolutely right. She wasn't a thief. Sure she preferred to avoid being seen when she was wandering through ruins and caves, and she did prefer to get the drop on enemies when she could, and she'd spent enough time picking locks when she found abandoned treasure troves and the like that she'd gotten fairly decent at it. But actual thievery? That was something else entirely. And yet here she was, racing to win membership into an underworld guild based around the act. And losing. Damn her if that Bosmer wasn't part deer. Sharah put on an extra burst of speed and ran after her. Even if it was exceptionally stupid, some things she just had to carry through.

Sharah lost track of Methredhel quickly. It took some time and a few coins to a beggar to find the house of Amantius Allectus. And when she did—the door was already unlocked. So Methredhel was inside. And possibly already gone. Sharah only had her hand on the knob. She could still walk away. Just…pretend this never happened. A whirl of pros and cons fluttered through her mind. Then she turned the door-knob and slipped into the house. She was such an idiot.

The house was dark, and there was no one in sight. Rather than berate herself for breaking and entering, Sharah began looking around for where the man might store his diary. She was already inside, might as well look. The first place she tried was the desk over by the basement stairway. Even being in here, she wanted to refrain from going upstairs to where the people probably were for as long as possible.

She was going through the drawers when someone hissed at her. Sharah turned around to see Methredhel standing by the front door. The Bosmer grinned devilishly and flaunted the book she held in her hands. Sharah was shocked, then furious. But before she could make a move, Methredhel reached out and tipped a pot off of a table and darted out the door. Time slowed as the pot fell, with the final shattering breaking any spell of quiet that had held sway on the night.

Immediately there was movement upstairs. Damn, damn, damn! Sharah didn't think she could make it to the door, so she ducked into the basement to her right. Divines and Daedra, she was an idiot! What good was her pride going to do her behind bars? She was Fighters Guild. Not a thief. And she needed to get out of here.

She hurried down the stairs and looked around for something. Anything. A window she could slip out of, or at least somewhere to hide. The whole place smelled oddly like the Bloodworks, and there were gardening supplies everywhere. But Sharah focused on the sewer grate. Kneeling beside it, she heard the gentle trickle of running water beneath. The opening was small and the grate was kind of heavy, but she managed to heave it open and drop down, letting the thing clank back into place behind her. Then Sharah was speeding off through the sewers, fumbling her way through and looking for a way out.

Her path eventually let out at a large sewer opening outside the city…with the Waterfront in view. Sharah grumbled to herself. She. Was. An. Idiot! What made her think this was a good idea? Oh, right, she hadn't been thinking! She was such a little idiot. Sharah waded right into Lake Rumare and swam across the port to the sandy crescent. She didn't want to be seen coming back, and the swim would wash off the grime and slime from the sewers.

It did little for her self-esteem, though. By the time Sharah got to the beach on the other side, she felt utterly humiliated and hated that she'd even made the attempt to join the guild for thieves. She was a warrior. And she'd certainly been taught a lesson.

Sharah passed Puny Ancus, the beggar on the Waterfront, on her way home. "Good morning, kind lady."

Oh, damn. In all the excitement, she'd forgotten. Sharah had taken to bringing him a loaf of bread every day on her way home from the main city. "I…I'm sorry, Puny. I forgot. It's been a long night. Will a few coins do instead?" He got that same bright look that most beggars got when offered coin. Sharah dropped three or four into his hand. "You are most generous, good lady. What makes such a generous lady so unhappy?"

Sharah shrugged it off. "Oh, I just…lost a competition. I probably shouldn't even have tried."

It was at that moment that Methredhel chose to come around the corner ahead of them. She saw Sharah, still damp and wrinkled, and could not resist rubbing her face in it a little more. "So you got away, huh? Don't bother showing up again. I'll be in the Guild before moonrise." The mer went sauntering off down the path while Sharah glared at her back.

Puny piped up. "You tried to join the Thieves Guild?"

Sharah glanced at him. She really should be surprised that he knew about it. "Yeah. I tried. And was effectively trounced."

Puny fingered the coins carefully. "You know, I saw Armand leave the Garden of Dareloth right after the Argonian. Won't be reachable all day by anyone. He usually insists on leaving a full day between meetings in the Garden."

Sharah sighed. "So Methredhel will have to wait until tonight before they let her in." She froze on the spot as a spark lit in her mind. "She has to wait until tonight…Puny, did you see her carrying a book?"

He shook his head. "I didn't see her carrying anything at all."

Sharah smiled. "And, you wouldn't happen to know where Methredhel might hide something that was very important to her, would you?"

Puny grinned. "I might know that she has a very good lock on her chest at home."

And Sharah knew exactly where that was. Sharah planted a kiss right on Puny's forehead. "Puny, you're fantastic!" Then she bolted for her house with newfound energy.

Methredhel wasn't in the Thieves Guild yet, which meant she was a mark herself. And with that diary still in play, Sharah still had a chance to win. The question now was: was she good enough to steal from a thief?

XXX

Armand returned to the Garden of Dareloth at midnight the following night. Amusei looked dejected. Sharah sat expressionless atop the wall watching Methredhel pace around the Garden. The mer occasionally shot a glare at both of her competitors, but they were all silent as they waited.

The moment he appeared, Methredhel rushed forward. "Armand. I…You have to understand. I had the diary. I took it right out of his bedroom. But I just—It's not my fault. I hid it away. I just can't find it now."

Armand waved her off. "The rules are: the one who brings me the diary gets into the Guild. If you don't have it, you don't get in."

"But I did have it," she insisted. "Just give me another day. I'll find it."

"You mean this?" Sharah broke her silence on the wall. When Methredhel turned Sharah lifted the diary into view, mimicking Methredhel's snide expression and flaunting motion from the previous night.

The Bosmer fumed. "You! You stole that from me, you…THIEF!"

Sharah grinned and dropped to the ground. "Why, Methredhel, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Sharah yanked the book away when Methredhel grabbed for it, the handed it to Armand Christophe. "Interesting read. No wonder his basement smelled funny."

Armand accepted the volume while Methredhel said, "That's not fair. She couldn't steal it from Amantius. She cheated. She's not even a real thief."

Sharah giggled. "Are you really trying to argue fairness?"

Armand thumbed through the pages. "She's right. Rules are rules. She brought me the diary, she wins." He closed the diary with a snap. "Sharah, welcome to the Thieves Guild. The rest of you can leave."

Amusei and Methredhel filed out, but not before the Bosmer shot Sharah another death glare. When they had gone, Sharah's smugness mellowed. "You're going to give her another shot to join, right?"

Armand asked, "Why should I? She couldn't pass the test."

Sharah said, "She was the one who stole the diary from the house. She just made a mistake on where she hid it. Nothing more. And she'll learn from it. Besides, I'm not really a thief."

"You stole the diary from her. I'd say that makes you a thief," he pointed out.

"Just because I can steal things, doesn't make me a thief. And I only did this to get my house protected. I have no intention of being active in your guild. I don't mean I don't appreciate the membership. But I'm Fighters Guild first. I always will be. She'll be more useful to you than I will."

Armand considered, "I'll think about it. For now, you're in." He reached into his pocket and handed her a couple of beads. "Take these. Most members string them on the leather thong of their coin purse. But put them wherever you want. It marks you as part of the Guild. As long as you have these on you, no thief will touch you. And as for your house, consider it protected from this night on. The Guild takes care of its own, and we don't let freelance thieves operate in this town."

He explained a little more about the Gray Fox and the Guild and a few rules before letting her go. None of them seemed like a problem to follow. And she really didn't think she'd need any help with bounties, or have to worry about killing people on Guild jobs.

Deep down, Sharah hoped Methredhel got her shot at membership soon. She'd kind of spoiled it for the mer.

For now, Sharah needed to make plans for heading south. There was a Fighters Guild member who did hand-to-hand training in Bravil, and Sharah had never been to Leyawiin before. With all her time in the Arena and the Imperial City, she was starting to miss the Fighters Guild. It was time to get back to the work and guild that really mattered to her.

In the Guild! Next chapter will introduce a character that...well...you'll see. Please take a minute to review.