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There were many rumors in Has-Haven. The thieves guild was not one of them. This was not because no one knew about it, but in fact, the other way around. No one who lived in Has-Haven had any doubt there was a thieves guild. Or an assassin's guild. They were legitimate trades in Has-Haven, sanctioned even. By the Patrician himself, the elected ruler of the city. To him, everything that made money, had to have a guild backing it. And that guild had to pay taxes. It all worked out in the cities favor. In the end, anyways.

Every guild has strict rules it must follow as well, all of them created by the guilds themselves, and regulated by the guilds. Breaking guild rules is a serious offense. One that most don't get a chance to make twice. The thieves guild in particular was quite a nice place. Thieves pull in a lot of money. Not too much though, a thief that takes too much gets in trouble. It's all part of regulating the crime of the city. If people lose too much, then there's nothing to steal. The point is to steal a bit of what everyone has, and be more of an inconvenience than an actual threat to the economy. Threats tend to get a personal visit from a member of the assassin's guild. And you only ever get one of those in a lifetime.

But the guild was a nice place. It was a rather large building, in a rather shady looking part of town. But the neighborhood just looked bad to keep up appearances, in actuality it was one of the safest places to walk in front of. The only safer place was the assassin's guild. Because an assassin wont kill you without being paid to, but causing too much noise may have a guild member hire someone themselves.

It was a rather large building, quite modern in most respects, good masonry from afar, but someone who got close to the outer wall could see that there were nicks and crevices all over the surface. A rule was that no one but guests used the actual main gate. Well, not so much a rule as a suggestion. The wall was twelve feet high and it was good practice.

Skagger and Burce had left Jace in front of the gate and told him to head in whenever he liked. He knew Skagger was afraid of him now and he was fine with that. Burce however seemed nonplussed. It seemed to Jace that there were two types of thieves; thugs, and then actual thieves. People that robbed other people and those who stole things.

Jace was looking quite hard at the gate, looking at it's edges, examining the bars. This was the time to be cautious. He pushed at the gate this his foot; it was locked. He gave a short laugh and looked up at the wall. It wasn't that high and he decided climbing it would probably earn him some regard if anyone saw. He slid his briefcase between the bars and set it down on the other side before walking to the side of the gate.

He'd climbed walls before, having snuck out on several occasions. He rubbed his hands together and began to climb. This was the easiest wall he'd ever climbed. There were so many little hand holds and places to put ones feet, that it was almost pathetic. It barely took any time at all before he dropped down on the inside. He dusted his hands off and picked his briefcase back up. There were several hooded figures in the inner courtyard watching him. "Evening," he said, walking to the door at the front of the building.

They watched him as he crossed the courtyard to the door at the front of the building. This one was open slightly and when he got to it, he stopped. He was being more paranoid then usual, but that was a good thing. He supposed that it could be considered as cautious, but no... Paranoid was the perfect word.

Moving to the side of the door and nudging it open with his foot, he was not surprised when he heard a click and something whizzed past, sticking into the ground. "Quite the security you have here," he said to the watching thieves, a few of them seemed impressed, but the passive look of the others gave him the notion that was not it. A thief had a lot to steal, so of course they would defend it. The thought to look for a different way in crossed his mind, but those would most likely be protected as well and besides that, he had a reputation to build.

He pushed the door open the rest of the way and stood, allowing his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. After only two steps in, a match flared several feet in front of him and a candle was lit. Skagger was standing in the dark, with quite a worried look on his face. "Uhm...sorry about that sir..." he said carefully.

Jace looked at him for a moment. "No, you're not. But I'm sure you were just following someones orders. Test this, know that, blah blah blah." He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.

Skagger licked his lips slightly, before turning and walking down the hallway. It was obvious that without Burce there he was even more nervous. He was not used to having someone behind him who he did not want to deal with when Burce was not there. "The Mistress is waiting in the main hall..."

After a moment of walking through the dark hallways, they came to a large door, which led into a large lit room. In the center was a table, which several hooded people were gathered around and at the head in a large chair, bigger then all the rest, with cushions and such, sat a black cat. "Good evening Mr. Ozymandias," the cat said, giving him a wide smile. "I am madam Katrina. Head of the thieves guild."

Something inside Jace's head waved a flag. "No," he said, staring directly at her as he walked the edge of the room. "I don't think so. It's far too cliché." She opened her mouth to say something, but he put up a hand to silence him. The way Skagger tensed and with the fact she did not protest, he knew he had gotten it right. "A black cat? A...cat burglar?" He shook his head. "No." He spoke slowly, and finished his circle around the room. "If you're going to insult me with such-"

He was suddenly aware of three things. One, everyone in the room was staring at him. Two, he could feel someone behind him and Skagger was off to his left. And three, if he had been faster at getting his knife out than whoever was behind him was at taking it off him, he would have twisted round, knife drawn, and stabbed it into the wall beside the figure. But the fact was, he no longer had his knife. "Quite a good blade..." said a voice behind him, which sounded painfully cheerful, with an innocent tone. "Seems almost like-"

Jace turned around, to see a rather curvy white rabbit, examining his knife. He looked her up and down. "No," he said and turned back to the group seated. "Again, too obvious. The leader of something like this...would not feign innocence." He looked at the cat. "Nor sit in a big chair." He scanned the group gathered. "They would sit with the rest of the group." He felt his knife returned. "Where they could blend in. Now, am I done passing your tests?"

"Very good Mr. Ozymandias." The voice was soft and feminine, and made Jace shudder, as only that kind of person can. He watched as a figure moved away from the table and stood up. The hood was removed, and there was a glitter of black scales in the light.

"A dragon," Jace said, not too terribly surprised. Dragons were notorious for reaching high positions and could move with a silence that made one want to look away. But they sent shivers through Jace, as they had quite a downward view of Mixed. Due to the fact that mixed were rare for them, as the dragon gene was quite dominant and even if they did mate with other species, the child tended to be a dragon. "Fitting."

"Quite," she said, moving around and towards him as the rabbit moved quickly away. "May I see your knife, Mr. Ozymandias? I am quite curious of it...Skagger told me all about your little encounter...I do apologize about that, but I had to be sure you were suitable." Jace drew the knife slowly and held it out to her, handle first. She took it and stared at it a moment. "Mmm...yes...quite a nice blade indeed..." She cleared her throat, and gave it back to him. "An assassin's blade in fact." Jace was careful not to let any flicker of emotion come across his face. "I shall not even ask."

"Now. What is the job?" Jace said as he put the knife away, doing his best to not be surprised. Inside he was practically screaming. An assassin's blade? How? Did that mean that Mr. Tompkin was an assassin? He was annoyed that something like that as kept from him. But, emotions would have to wait.

She pretended to not hear him. "So I have heard quite a lot about you all day Mr. Ozymandias...such as no one ever hearing about you before."

Jace hesitated, looking at her. She was uncomfortably close. Though being in the same room as a dragon was too close for Jace. With so many bad experiences with them, it made it hard to stay calm when talking face to face with one. "People change what they are called," he said slowly, looking at her. Part of him refused to take his eyes off her. "Now, what is the job?"

Her nod was quite appreciative. "Oh yes, I understand that very well... I'm sure there are many people who would pay a lot to have your true identity..." His heart was racing and he worried she would notice. She looked at him, her expression quite blank. "Too bad I don't know it," she said softly, smirking as she turned around. "Make lotsa pretty coins I'm sure. But not even I've heard of a red panda this far out... I don't think there's another in the city...plenty of pandas...but no red ones." She looked at him a moment.

He cleared his throat and reached into the pocket of his vest, pulling out his watch and looking at it. A frown crossed his face and he put it back. "I think you've wasted quite enough of my time. What is the job?"

The dragon cleared her throat. "Right. To the point." She moved towards the door. "Come with me." Jace glanced around the room once more before following her out. She closed the door behind them. "I'm afraid I cannot give you the specifications of the job quite yet. But what I can tell you is it will happen in four days. Wednesday afternoon." Her strut through the hallway was of one who truly belonged there.

"I don't like that," Jace said as he followed and she nodded slowly.

"Yes..." She looked at him a moment. "Your commission will be five hundred dollars." Jace stopped. "Plus room and board here in the guild." Then she noticed he was not beside her and looked back.

Jace looked at her and then shook his head. "Seven," he said, she blinked. "Seven hundred, at least." He cleared his throat. That had caught him off guard and he had to recover now. Which meant negotiating.

She took a few steps towards him. "Surely you can't be ser-"

He held up a hand, looking at her. "I am quite serious. Secrecy is something I am good at, but only after I have received a job. Not before." His hand fell back beneath the cloak. "Seven hundred. Half up front."

She gulped, looking at him. Was he even intimidating to her? He supposed it was on his side that she truly didn't know anything about him, or who he was. She cleared her throat. "R-right." Turning away quickly, she began walking again. "Seven hundred. Three fifty up front. The rest upon completion of the job." She took a deep breath, something about his tone of voice had shaken her. "And room and board for the duration."

He nodded slightly as he followed her. Skagger came up behind him and whispered something to her that Jace did not hear. She turned around. "Yes, of course. Come here."

Around a corner, came a slim figure, no cloak. A ferret. With a crooked nose.

~

The morning was cold, but it was always cold in Gruska. In the house of Fourstall, there was only one left who was still trying to sleep. A knock at his door forced him to open his eyes. "Yes?" he said in Grusken. It was a difficult language, but he had managed to learn it and had been living in Gruska for several years now. From the door, came no answer. He got up slowly, looking at it as he did. "Who is there?"

"Just me Jersa." Came a voice from the other side of the door.

Jersa relaxed. "You should answer more quickly, Blathe." He moved to his dresser and dressed quickly, pulling on his gear and cloak. "Not late, am I?" He sounded almost hopeful.

"We lost him in the river. Some idiot shot him over the cliff." Jersa opened the door, revealing a figure in a gray cloak. Behind him was a taller figure, dressed in off white.

"Dwerm," Jersa said, nodding to the taller figure, who nodded in return. He had never liked Dwerm, but he at least trusted him not to stab him in the back. The three of them rushed off, into the snow.

~

At some point, they split up. Jersa was the better tracker of the three and it didn't take long to find the tracks from the river. He reached into his pocket and blew on the wooden whistle he retrieved. Then he followed the tracks. He walked slowly and carefully. He hated the game. Truly he did. But it was mandatory. If you refuse, then the next hunt is after you. He slowed as the tracks led under a tree. So that was where he was hiding out, smart. He frowned slightly and looked at the sky. What was he doing? He didn't even know this guy and he was a Lord. Mixed or not, he was Lord Foxern. Would he really be able to shoot him?

He stopped a few feet away and turned around. Then he heard the whistling off in the distance. Maybe he could get away with calling out a false alarm. He held the whistle up and took a step to make the call and then saw the white of snow in front of him, the whistle landing some ways off. He was pulled under the tree and hit the needles hard. He spun the upper half of his body and fired, but no one was there. Next there was a face, that slammed into his, and everything went white. He reached for his sword, but to his dismay, he was rolled half over. He came up with nothing but a crossbow bolt. His eyesight was starting to return and he saw a figure over him, then the large stick. What's that for? He thought. Then it hit him.

~

Jersa opened his eyes, looking at the dark ceiling. He felt pressure on his face and around his head in the form of bandages. He hurt all over. From head to toe. But at least now he felt warm. Movement at the side of the room drew his attention. He looked over at the gray wolf who was at a desk. "What happened..." he managed to say.

The wolf did not move. "You took a few nasty blows to the head and face. And you were out for a few hours before Blathe managed to find you."

He took a deep breath, nodding slowly. Control was starting to come back. He felt a small prickle at the back of his neck. Something was wrong. He swallowed gently, watching the wolf. There were no wolf doctors. All wolves were hunters. "So this is it then." Then the wolf spun round and swung down.

The dagger plunged into the pillow beside Jersa, whose hands were wrapped around the wolf's wrists. The wolf blinked and then the blanket came over it's head. Jersa didn't waste time, kicked the wolf in the head, grabbed the dagger, and planted it squarely in it's chest. The wolf let out a grunt as it slumped down.

Jersa dusted himself off and rushed to the dresser in the room, pulling on clothes quickly. "No headstart. No warning. No nothing." He kicked the body under the blanket hard as he pulled the dagger out. "Jerk." Then he ran. He was out in moments and found he wasn't far from home. He ran the several blocks, practically knocking the door of Fourstall off it's hinges as he rushed to his room. He kicked it open, dagger ready. No one was there. He rushed in, and flipped the mattress, underneath was a long box that had been embedded into the floor under it. "Good, no one's been here."

"What's going on?" Jersa hesitated a moment and then began pulling things from the box, and putting them on. Several daggers, knives, an odd looking device, which he strapped to his left forearm. "Jersa," the voice said, still outside the room. "What is going on."

Jersa pulled several pouches from the box, attaching them to his belt. "He got away," Jersa said slowly, trying to buy time as he pulled on tall and heavy, dark leather boots, and a black cloak from the box. "And since I was the last to see him..." He turned around, Dwerm was standing behind him. "The blame's been put on me." He licked his lips, he had expected this eventually, but he had hoped he would be in better shape. Blathe was a pushover, but Dwerm was tough. "The hunts been called." Blathe was in the room, bearing down on him. Jersa flexed his wrist, there was a soft 'snict' sound and then a blade punctured Blathe's chest. He kicked him away as he grunted and threw the dagger with precision at Dwerm. But the taller figure was well out of the way as the dagger embedded itself in the wall.

Jersa was out the window, glass still hitting the ground when he was halfway down the block, hearing Dwerm call out. "Jersa!" Then, there was the dreaded noise. The whistle blew. A cloaked figure that rounded the corner in front of Jersa was first met with a fist into it's stomach and then a foot to the side of the head as Jersa spun around. The crack as the figure hit the wall, let Jersa know that he wouldn't get up.

~

The door to the stables was knocked in with one kick. Kicking in doors was something Jersa was good at, and was quite a perfected art in his mind. The large animals did not seem too terribly startled from this, as there were many occasions of random noises and violence nearby. Jersa caught the wrist of the dagger holder, with hardly a sideways glance and delivered several blows into it's stomach. Not much of an ambush... It crumpled, coughing and spluttering. Jersa didn't bother with a saddle, or anything, practically leaping onto a horse, kicking open it's gate as he did, and kicking it to get it going.

He passed many cloaked figures, some which shouted, some fired bolts. But these horses were bred for speed, in snow. Jersa had spent several weeks learning to ride bareback efficiently and knew to catch up with him they would have to saddle the horses. Everything had been planned and aside from the splitting headache and the feeling that his nose was bleeding, it had gone off without a hitch.

Then the horse tripped and he was sent sprawling into a snow bank. He rolled to the side, as several bolts pinned his cloak, which was where he had been laying. The horse was struggling to get up, it's legs had been tied. "The hell happened?" He said ripping the cloak off and moving to the horse quickly. A few more bolts hit the ground around him. "Damn it, what are they shooting at me with?" A thrown knife cut the rope, and a leap up as the horse got up, got him off again. The horse was in a mad dash now, and had gone off the road and into the trees. Jersa heard the thud of a few bolts as they hit trees. "They broke out the big crossbows just for me? Damn it..." He took a deep, shaky breath. It was all he could do to hold onto the panicked horse.

~

An hour passed before the horse was too exhausted to go further. It took a few faltering steps and then collapsed. Jersa got off from it shakily and looked at it. It had been hit by five bolts. He put his hands over his face, turning away. Then he felt the blood. He looked down at his hands, his nose was bleeding. He touched it gently and winced. It had been poorly set. He did his best to straighten it out a bit more, but it would need re-breaking and proper setting to get it all the way straight.

"Long road to Has-Haven..." he said softly and began running.

~

The cart that rolled into Has-Haven Saturday night, had picked up many things, including a passenger, who had paid quite well for his seat. He nearly ran to the Thieves Guild, he had to report in as soon as possible. His face had healed quite well, though his nose was still a bit crooked. He wasn't sure how he felt about that just yet. He would have to see what the Mistress had to say about it. If she approved of it, he would keep it, if not, he'd spend the cash from his next assignment to fix it. It wouldn't be cheap, but then again, Jersa was not cheap to hire. More skills than your average thief, a decent fighter and full of tricks.

It was a quick jaunt over the wall, a quick dash across the yard, then up the building and through a window. He darn near ran into Skagger as he came in. "Ah! Skagger."

Skagger blinked and then grinned at him. "Jersa! Wha' the hell ya doin' here?"

Jersa shook his head. "Cover got blown. I need to speak with the Mistress. Can you check to make sure she'll see me?"

Skagger nodded as he jogged off down a passageway, Jersa following him. "She's go' company at the mo'. Bu' I'm sure she'd love ta see ya." Skagger waved him off before he rounded a corner and he stopped. Skagger kept going, though at a slower pace.

Then he heard her voice,and it made him feel immensely better. "Yes, of course. Come here."

Jersa came around the corner, walking quite quickly towards them. He had just enough time to look at the figure beside the Mistress and think, he sure looks familiar. Before being slammed to the wall and having a knife at his throat.