*fhew* That was a finger workout. Two chapters in one day. We're making good progress on this story. Hope you like it.

Sharah dropped out of the saddle and stretched her back until it cracked and she let out a sigh of relief. She'd been riding for so long and her rear end felt completely numb. A woman at the Chestnut Handy Stables took her horse to stable it, as well as a few septims, and Sharah walked through the gates into the Imperial City.

Sharah the Wolf. Sharah the Wolf. Who in Oblivion had come up with that rubbish? She still hadn't found out. Sharah had heard the nickname first in Chorrol. She'd tracked it to Anvil, then Bravil, then Cheydinhal. At that point, just about all her guildmates were calling her it and Sharah had just given up trying to find the source. Her ass was numb and sore, she was exhausted from all the incessant riding, and she could not get people to stop calling her 'Wolf' no matter what she tried. Sharah knew when to call it quits.

Sharah the Wolf. Stupid nickname. How could anyone look at her and think that? Sharah half thought it was someone making fun of her. But none of her guildmates saw humor in the name. They called her Wolf candidly. Perhaps she'd grow into it. Since she wasn't going to be getting rid of it any time soon. At this point all she wanted to do was go to her shack and sleep off her travels.

But not before turning in another Ayleid statue to Lord Umbacano. This one she'd actually gone searching for, using the Arcane University's library to research the locations she'd already found statues at in order to pinpoint other likely locations. It had taken some convincing for the mages to allow her access to their repository of knowledge, but it was time and effort well spent. The library was incredible. Sharah had never seen so many books in one place before. Sharah had stayed a few days more just to read her way across a couple of the stacks and do a little exploration of the University grounds. Then her Ra Gada urge had kicked her out the door, and then that 'Sharah the Wolf' name hunt.

With a heavy purse of gold in her bag, Sharah headed for the Waterfront. She got an intense feeling of déjà vu upon arrival. Guards patrolled every street, every corner, walking the paths, cobbled or dirt. But this time they didn't seem to be looking for anyone. They were simply on patrol. The calm of their regular movements only gave Sharah more cause to consider things. Had Methredhel stolen a count's underpants this time…while he was still wearing them?

They didn't trouble Sharah, so she went home and dropped her excess gold in her chest. There was no one hiding in her basement, which…might be a good sign. Sharah really couldn't be certain. But she was too tired to worry much and slept away the remainder of the day and through the night.

The next morning she was up early, a little groggy from so many hours spent abed but a good jump in Lake Rumare woke her up the rest of the way. Once cleaned and dried and dressed, Sharah headed into the city. She'd have breakfast at one of the inns rather than eat her own simple cooking. She had the gold for it anyway. She wanted to repair her weaponry, then maybe buy something superfluous. Like a dress. That thought alone kept her laughing all the way to the Temple District. A dress? Ha! Not likely.

Within city walls, someone came up behind her. "Sharah."

She turned around to look at the speaker, but didn't recognize the Imperial woman with the dark, intense brow. Then again, she met so many people on her travels it was difficult to remember them all.

"I'm Dynari Amnis," the woman said.

Sharah blinked but still couldn't make a connection between the woman and herself. Then the woman touched her coin purse pointedly. Sharah glanced down and saw some familiar beading on the thong of her purse.

"Oh. Sorry, I keep forgetting. Something I can do for you?"

Dynari kept her voice low. "We need you to meet us at my house tonight, after dark."

"Why? Who's 'we'?"

"The Guild," she hissed. "Didn't you see the Waterfront? We need to meet. Will you come?"

Sharah sighed. She hardly associated with the Thieves Guild. Her last bit had been that 'bust' business. She hadn't even stolen anything since then, or dealt with the fences or anything Guild related at all. And yet she was apparently still counted among them. But perhaps that was a good thing, considering her shack remained untouched.

"Sure. Where do you live?"

Dynari gave her directions and slipped away, probably to deliver more summons. Sharah sighed again. She'd spend the morning doing her own thing, then go back home and try to get a nap in. Chances were this was going to be a long night.

XXX

Sharah arrived at Dynari's home after dark and was admitted and directed into the main room. The place was crowded. Every chair in the house had been crammed in and yet there were still people standing. They were from all walks of life, too. Most were middle-class to those more well-off who probably lived around the city. Very few were poor folk from the Waterfront. But to those who paid attention, it was easy to see what they all had in common: nimble fingers, twitchy eyes that caught anything that flashed. A den of thieves. Sharah giggled loud enough to attract some looks. Literally, someone's den full of thieves. She giggled louder.

The looks she was getting weren't just at her apparent inappropriate response to the seriousness of their meeting. Plenty of them were doubtless wondering who the stranger was who was seen drawing blood in public but little encountered within the Thieves Guild. Sharah ignored all eyes directed toward her and slipped across the room and dropped herself on the stair upward.

Their meeting started of its own volition with no firm leader, and yet a single topic: Hieronymus Lex's 'raid' on the Waterfront. While it did little to affect Sharah, since she wasn't an active member of the Guild, apparently it was putting a serious strain on the Guild's regular activities.

"We can't do business like this. Lex has pulled soldiers from all over the city. Our transporters won't come near our regular drop sites. We can't move any of our products. And with all the guards, even petty thievery and fencing is going to be impossible."

"Where's Armand?"

"He's under house arrest. With guards posted at his door. He's unreachable by any means."

"What if we moved where we do business? Move it down the coast, or to another district?"

A Dunmer in fine clothes spoke from his seat. "Our system took years, decades to arrange. We can't just start over. Besides, how would we get anything out of the city?"

"We could use the sewers," a young Waterfronter offered. "There's an entrance right down the coast from the Waterfront."

"And right in view of the new patrols, you fool."

A Breton smuggler said, "I've had word from my contacts. The whole underworld has put an indefinite ban on any business with the Thieves Guild here in the city. In or out."

"Something has to be done."

Methredhel stood up and took command like a professional. "S'Krivva has tasked me with resolving this situation."

"Then why didn't you speak up before?" someone demanded.

The Bosmer didn't flinch. "I think I've come up with a plan that will force the guards out of the Waterfront and back to their posts."

Everyone was immediately attentive. "Well, let's hear it."

Methredhel leaned on the table. "If we orchestrate five heists around the city, all at the same time, and all at places where the guards have been pulled, then hopefully it will force the Captain to reassign his watchmen."

"Hopefully?" a Shadowfoot asked.

"If the thefts are high enough profile, then it's sure to work," Methredhel insisted.

Dynari asked, "So what are our targets?"

"The Imperial Legion Compound, the Temple, the Office of Imperial Commerce, the Palace Repository, and the Arcane University."

Someone whistled in appreciation. "Those are some very ambitious targets."

"I know," Methredhel replied, "But we have to hit all five and put as much pressure on the guard as possible."

The discussion became open. They talked targets and methods. There was a member inside the Imperial Legion compound who could help, a prisoner who actually stayed in the facility just for kicks. Someone else, who had worked in the Palace, offered his expertise on reaching the repository. Items were designated and assigned, but when the discussion reached the Arcane University, tongues were suddenly tied and people were looking anywhere but at Methredhel.

She looked around desperately. "The Arcane University is a key to this. The mages have a lot of pull with the Watch. They train their own battlemages. If they demand the guard back, all the others will follow their example."

"It's bad enough you want to steal from mages. But what exactly would be the target?"

"Hrormir's Icestaff," she replied.

The entire room blanched. "Hrormir's Icestaff?! The Archmage's pride and joy that he keeps displayed in his personal chambers of the Wizard's Tower? That Icestaff?"

"Yes. This item is pivotal. It has to be taken."

"But you're talking about the Arch-mage himself. Lightning and fire and ice and who knows what else if the thief is caught."

"I know. This plan will work. But it will only work if all the targets are hit. Especially the University. Besides, the Guild has had an eye on that staff for a while."

A retired Dunmer member replied, "Yes, but no one's been crazy enough to chance taking on a facility full of wizards to get it."

Sharah, having kept her peace up until this point, growled, "Oh, for goodness sake. You're all being a bunch of babies. I'll get the damned thing!"

A few member actually jumped, having just about forgotten she was there. "You?"

"Yes, me. You think I'm here for decoration? I'll get the staff."

Methredhel said, "Are you sure? The wizards won't hesitate to kill you if they catch you."

Sharah cocked her head. "Are you trying to talk me out of it now? I've been inside the University before. I think the only issue would be getting back out unseen. And no guards means no problem. So, like I said, I'll get it."

That finished the discussion, although more people were looking Sharah's way now. And she couldn't figure if it was out of newfound respect, or because they thought she was mad.

"Then it's settled. Tomorrow night, we hit all our targets between one and five. Bring all the items back here before morning. And be careful."

XXX

"There's no way she did it."

"Keep quiet!"

"Do you think we can get away with two out of five?"

"Shhhh!"

"She's still got two more hours. Give her time."

"She never should have been a member. She's an Arena combatant. Some kind of warrior-hero type."

"I've heard she's on a first name basis with all the City Guard captains."

"Shut up!"

"I'm just saying it was too ambitious a target. If she got caught—"

"If who got caught?"

Those present jumped and whirled to see Sharah, leaning against the wall as though she'd been there for an hour.

Methredhel's eyes stayed wide. "How did you…?"

Sharah jerked her head toward the basement door. "Sewer grate downstairs. A little smelly, but out of sight…What?"

Methredhel shook whatever thoughts out of her mind. "Did you get it?"

Sharah grinned and pulled a staff sized mass off her back. It was wrapped in dark cloth and practically invisible in the shadows. "Yeah, I got it." Sharah drew the covering away to reveal her prize and laid the glassy Icestaff on the table beside the other two items. It glimmered and glowed, drawing every eye to its brilliance.

Sharah looked to the other prizes. "So we've still got two out?"

Methredhel shook her head. "The Repository and the Office of Commerce were busts. But these three should do the trick. Now we just have to wait."

"Although," another thief ventured, "It would help to know what's happening on the Waterfront. Maybe someone should go down there and spy on Captain Lex. So we know when the powers that be pull the plug on his siege."

Everyone present gradually turned to look at Sharah. She yanked up straight. "What?!"

A Bosmer lock expert said, "He does know you. He wouldn't suspect a thing. And we can't send anyone else without risking them."

Sharah grumbled unhappily, even though the argument was sound. "I have a few conversations with the guy and suddenly I get to be his keeper. Wonderful."

XXX

Sharah entered her house through the back door and dozed until it was properly light outside. When she walked out of her home, it seemed for all the world like she had been there all night. Which was only too good, as Captain Lex was surveying his achievement within view of her front door.

Sharah approached. "Morning, Captain. Why are you still here?"

He glanced over at her, looking pleased with himself. "I'll get him this time. There's no doubt about that."

Sharah took a closer look at his face. There were dark rings around his eyes. She couldn't help the concern that snuck into her voice. "Have you been out all night?"

He nodded with a smile. "Since the night before last. This is my finest work. The Waterfront is closed for 'business'. Too much scrutiny even to litter. Before long, someone will come forward with information on the Gray Fox. And then I'll have him."

Sharah wasn't sure how to react to this. The idea was sound, the execution complete, and she'd no doubt it would have worked given enough time. But she also knew that it was only a matter of time until the Guild's actions from tonight put a hole in it. And even for all the difficulty he had caused the Thieves Guild, Sharah couldn't help but feel sorry for the man.

He was dedicated to the law, absolutely driven to stamp out crime for the safety and security of the citizens. And he didn't do it for glory or recognition. He did it because it was right to him. And beneath the tired eyes, she saw how young he was. Barely thirty. He was in his prime, vibrant, driven, dedicated, virtuous. Qualities that had rocketed him to the rank of Captain of the Watch in the Imperial City.

But his career was stained by his obsession with the capture of the Gray Fox. An admirable goal for a man of the law. If only his quarry wasn't believed to be a myth by half the population he served. It turned his noble cause into a permanent black mark on his record. And in his moment of triumph, she was going to lend to the crumbling of his carefully laid plans. Poor man.

Before she could think of anything to say, Sharah spotted the approach of a figure and her hand leapt to the hilt of her blade. His skin was the color of volcanic rock and was covered in intricate tattoos in the color of blazing fire. He was the size and strength of a powerful Orc, but had the fine angular features of a high bred Altmer. His body was doubtless sculpted to perfection beneath the heavy armor he carried with ease and two graceful horns rose from his thick black hair. And even if she couldn't see from this distance, she knew his eyes glowed from some internal hellish light while his teeth were pointed. Most would consider this creature beautiful by appearance. But there was more than just this appearance to consider.

The armor said it all: cruelly spiked for all its glory. Red veins like blood ran within the black metal. His smile would be cruel, and behind the eyes lay an equally unforgiving persona developed from thousands of years of immortality that taught him to believe that any life beyond his kin was weak and worthless.

But what truly had her and everyone else on edge, the thing that made coexistence a chore at best, was his aura. The very air around him was heavy and emanated…not a power, but an essence of something…else. There was no way to describe the feeling around one of these creatures. Only that it made her skin crawl. And she wasn't the only one. As the creature passed, soldiers froze and made the sign of the Divines upon their chest: a diamond sealed by a clenched fist at its center. Even the Waterfront's stray dogs scattered at its approach. Daedra.

Sharah knew better than to seek help from the Divines. She felt better looking to the blade on her belt, which was now firmly gripped in her hand. A grip that was getting tighter with each step the daedra took in her direction. For whatever reason, the creatures of Oblivion and the beings of Mundus were not quite right together.

For the most part, Sharah hated daedra. They were arrogant, haughty and strong. Not quite as much as the undead, but still a serious disliking. They came in all shapes and sizes and types, from mindless beasts, to the fighting elite, to the Princes who ruled their fellows and controlled the realms of Oblivion. Oddly enough, she could stand the Princes just fine. Although she couldn't understand why. Perhaps because the Princes rarely actually manifested in Mundus and her contact with them was more of a disembodied voice and the echo of their aura.

This one was a Churl by the look of him, one of the warriors of Mehrunes Dagon or Molag Bal or something. Sharah had fought a few when she'd come across a rogue band of conjurers turned to daedra worship. They'd summoned the daedra to fight for them. Sharah had elected to kill the summoner rather than fight the summoned, given said creature had a millennia of fighting experience on her.

The daedra headed straight for her and Sharah felt herself grow taut, ready for a fight. But as he approached, she saw his eyes were not on her, but on the man beside her. This only made her more anxious. She'd be Oblivion bound before she let this daedra hurt anyone, least of all the good Captain.

Hieronymus Lex sensed the approaching daedra like everyone else, and out of the corner of her eye Sharah saw its presence affecting him. As the daedra got close, it reached for its belt to draw something out. She was drawn so taut that Sharah yanked Chillrend free of its sheath at the motion. The daedra sneered and handed the piece of parchment in its hand to Captain Lex.

"Be gone, mortal," it said, its tone at once superior, disgruntled and bored. It spoke like it drank lava on a regular basis, but the sound reverberated in her bones.

There was no fear in her eyes. Not a trace. She'd kill the daedra if it so much as sneezed. But the creature just dismissed her and turned back the way it had come. Sharah kept her eyes on its retreating back until the daedra vanished back into whatever realm he'd been summoned from and the crawling of her skin faded away. Damn, she did not like daedra!

Next to her, Captain Lex's whispered words brought her out of her attentive loathing. "No, they can't…"

Sharah shook away the last remnants of the daedra's presence. "Captain Lex, what is it?"

He crumpled the message in his fist, forcing control while he fought out the words. "Men! We are to resume regular patrols. Everyone is to return to their regular postings at once." The lieutenants within hearing distance moved slowly to comply, going to issue the order to their soldiers.

Sharah spoke softly. "Captain Lex?"

He whispered under his breath, "I had him. I was so close…"

She reached out and touched his shoulder. "Hieronymus?"

Lex threw down the note and stalked toward the docks, rage written in his every movement. Sharah jammed Chillrend back into its sheath and picked up the note. Sure enough, Raminus Polus, a Mages Guild Master-Wizard, had accused the Captain of dereliction of duty for removing the guards from the University. It even threatened to bring him up on formal charges for his pursuit of the Gray Fox if all guards were not returned immediately. Sending it by daedra instead of foot messenger was just an added insult. Which would explain the daedra's attitude, having to deliver a message to a mortal for a mortal. Exactly what Methredhel had wanted, and Lex's worst nightmare.

This was the closest he'd gotten to the Fox. And after a disappointment like this, he was likely to do something he'd regret. She still liked the man. Better he not be alone to do whatever he was intending to do next. Sharah shoved the note in her pocket and took off after him.

Hieronymus Lex went straight to the Bloated Float. By the time Sharah got inside after him, he had an open bottle of wine in his hand and was swallowing in great gulps. Sharah couldn't watch him do it. Without even thinking, Sharah whipped out her sword and smashed the bottle, sending the contents splattering to the floor before any more could reach his mouth.

Lex dropped the rest of the bottle and rounded on her. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"I'm helping you," she retorted. "I'm not gonna let you drink yourself under the table over this."

He glowered down at her. "I could have you arrested for assaulting an officer."

Sharah remained calm, speaking without inflection. "If it would make you feel better, then go ahead." He glared, less angry at her than at everyone else. Sharah looked him right in the eye. "I know what you're going through. I've been there. You think you've got everything figured out. You think you've got a handle on how your life is going to work. And just when everything is supposed to fall into place, it falls apart and it feels like you're left with nothing. Am I right?"

The Captain said nothing, but he deflated just a bit. Sharah continued, trying to be gentle, "Hieronymus, you have to trust me. This is going to be raw for a while. But it is going to fade. You just have to hang on and be patient. And drinking is not going to help. You need rest. Come on, Hieronymus, let me walk you home." Lex looked at her oddly before bobbing his head obediently. He was exhausted. He needed sleep.

Sharah tossed a few coins on the table before escorting him out the door. They walked together quietly, his feet just sort of carrying him along without much guidance. Poor man. It was like his life was over. She'd felt it before. At least, for him, no one had died to bring him to this. At least he wouldn't have nightmares that woke him up at all hours in a cold sweat and tears. At least he'd be able to move on and get some peace after a while.

When they reached the door of the South Watchtower, Sharah gripped his shoulder. "Just get some sleep. Let the Fox have another day of freedom and rest up. Or you'll be no good to anyone."

He nodded automatically and went inside. She really hoped he'd get over this quickly. Even if he was at odds with the Thieves Guild, he was a good man and didn't deserve to be miserable. If there was something she could do for him in the end, she'd be happy to, no matter the effort.

XXX

Sharah got back to Dynari's place and brandished the note to those present. "Lex is out. The Waterfront is cleared."

Armand Christophe replied from a seat against the wall. "So we noticed. Good work."

She shrugged and went to drop herself on the stair again.

"I think, as a sign of good faith, Hrormir's Icestaff should be returned," Methredhel said.

Someone perked up. "What? This is our greatest prize yet, snatched right from beneath the wizards' noses."

Armand said, "I see your point, Methredhel. Due to its unique nature, it would never be anything but a prize. Besides we can't afford to have the Mages Guild holding a vendetta against us. The staff needs to go back."

"There's no putting it back where I got it," Sharah said, although her current attitude towards the world left the tone of her voice disinterested. "With the guard back and them knowing their tower is vulnerable, there'd be no getting back in there."

Armand agreed, "Then we'll just have to leave it somewhere else for them to find."

Sharah paid polite attention as the Guild members agreed to place it in the home of a former Mages Guild member. But she wasn't much interested in the goings on at this point. She felt guilty causing Hieronymus Lex such misery. Not enough to give him the Gray Fox, even if she could. But enough to want to make it up to him somehow. She just had to find a way to do it.

I enjoyed bringing the larger picture in. Even if Sharah isn't going to become an underworld mob-boss.