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No White Opals, Pt 2

comidacomida copyright 2023

Jiib was never the kind of Werrit to 'go quietly' and she was more than willing to put up a fight, but she very quickly realized she was no match for a full sized Werber, especially not the massive she-bear who manhandled her. With a single paw, the furry guard had grabbed her by a leg and tail but, after Jiib's first attempt to struggle, the Bear adjusted her grip and lashed out with her other paw, latching onto the burglar's two arms.

Before Jibb knew what was happening, the Werber had gathered up both arms, one leg, and her tail and carried her over her shoulder like some kind of laundry bag made up of a blanket's four corners pulled together. To make matters worse, she was carried to who-the-hell-knew-where, and the Werulf followed along behind her, his amber eyes staring at her the entire time. Eventually, as they headed down a flight of stairs, she gathered up the gumption to challenge him. "What?"

Jibb tended to avoid Werulfs; considering their natural affinity for violence and short tempers, she generally opted for longevity over interaction. One thing anyone who knew a thing about Werulfs could tell for certain was as to whether they were raised around Humans or not. Werulf not familiar with 'polite society' had incredibly strong pack hierarchies and, as part of that, their communication style lacked questions; everything was a statement and if a statement wasn't corrected then it was considered fact.

The surprisingly well groomed Werulf dressed in field plate that probably cost as much as everything Jiib had stolen was obviously the other kind, and his follow up question to hers only further reinforced that impression. "What were you doing in Lady Elizabeth's chambers, Rat?"

Jiib couldn't have possibly have counted the times she'd been called 'Rat', but she was astounded that the Wolf seemed to use it as a descriptor rather than an insult. Despite his surprisingly casual interrogation, Jiib wasn't really interested in answering questions so she provided a relatively obvious answer. "Helping myself to some items I didn't think would be missed."

As if oblivious to the obvious distant she tried to throw at him with her answer the Wolf didn't relent. "Who sent you? Was it the Casterlies? The Lynmers? The--"

Being unable to do anything but hang at an uncomfortable angle in the Werber's grasp, Jiib spat out with as much venom as she could. "I wasn't hired by any of those silver-spoon zap cats. I work for myself."

The Werber spoke up for the first time since catching her. "Pity."

Surprisingly, the hulking she-Bear's words didn't hold any sense of sarcasm. Jiib was more than happy enough to use the opportunity to attack in the only way she had left: verbally. "Why? Because if I'm not working for someone you can't ransom me back to some social enemy or other of your employer?"

Her captor's rumbling contralto almost caused Jiib's bones to vibrate. "If you worked for someone, the Young Master would be more inclined to let you live."

The matter-of-fact tone with which the statement was spoke was enough to push past Jiib's street-hardened demeanor and cause the smallest amount of concern; she'd heard of common folk disappearing if they got on the wrong side of the more well-off citizens of Maan Ellis, but she'd always considered those rumors. Surely they wouldn't go so far as to kill someone; the karmic results would be disastrous for someone who actually had something to lose. She used that simple thought to reinforce her confidence. "Har har. I assume you're taking me to some basement level holding cell where you'll keep an eye on me until the Mutt can summon a constable?"

The term 'Mutt' was not a polite way to refer to a Werulf and, in fact, it was usually a very effective way to get one to bust out into a killing rage. Oddly, the Wolf following along behind her barely batted an eye. He didn't even address it as he responded. "No. Master Muscroft wouldn't want to involve the city's watchmen so his son would not either. The Muscrofts would consider this an internal affair to be handled privately."

Jiib kept them talking, but also devoted most of her attention to monitor her surroundings; she planned on escaping, which meant she had to map out the house as they went. "Oh... well, I hope your 'Young Master' knows that letting someone die of thirst while in their custody is still murder."

The Werulf only grunted, but the Werber provided a response. "There's no need for anything so melodramatic, Thief. If the Young Master wanted you dead, I would wring your neck myself the moment he ordered it."

Smirking, Jiib realized that she'd finally cracked their interrogation; nobody was stupid enough to actually commit murder, especially not for something so base as regular pay. The Werrit saw that they were trying to intimidate her before they started in on the questions. Smirking, she made a show that it wasn't going to work. "And you could probably do it with just one paw too... right?"

The guard behind her flashed a wide grin, revealing his many, sharp, lupine teeth, holding up a gauntleted fist; her blood ran cold when she realized that it was studded with numerous opals-- most of them were black. "Nothing we haven't done before... and against larger would-be thieves too."

Attempting to quickly think up something in order to hide just how flustered the reveal had on her, she said the first thing that came to her mind. "Wow... that's a LOT of Opals... and they call ME the thief?"

The Werber gave her a firm shake before opening a heavy-sounding door and proceeding down another set of stairs. "The Young Master's father was involved in many business dealings, including an opal mine. Not a single one was stolen."

Jiib had heard of Opal mines, but had never even considered that someone could own something so... mystical. Fortunately, her flippant side helped her hide her increasing insecurity. "Well... I guess some families have all the luck then, huh?"

The Werulf snorted behind her. "The Master has had hardships enough that even twenty such mines would not be worth the troubles."

The Werrit snickered dismissively. "Oh, sure... nice house, tons of money, loyal minions... sounds like a lot of hardships to me."

The Werber gave her another shake in response but, rather than continuing on, came to a stop. "The Young Master's father was a great man, gods rest him. Your future hinges on what he thinks of you, so you'd best consider using more honey than vinegar should he come to sort you out, Thief."

Her rear guard moved past the Werber and out of Jiib's view. A moment later she heard the sound of metal-on-metal followed by a metallic creak. The Werber unceremoniously tossed her into what turned out to be a rather spacious three-length cell; the poorer jails in east side of the metropolis rarely had holdings that were much more than one length wide. Perhaps there was something to be said of being the prisoner of a city elite. Slowly standing up, Jiib brushed herself off, surprised when she realized that she still had the bag of nicked items on her.

Although she knew she shouldn't call her attention to it, the Werrit couldn't resist using it as a lure. Flicking the bag to get a dull 'thunk' out of it, Jiib spoke up. "Not looking to confiscate the ill-gotten goods?"

The Werber about-faced and headed toward the simple wooden staircase. She spoke disinterestedly over her shoulder. "Why? You're not going anywhere, and neither are her Ladyship's goods. We can always collect them later off your corpse."

In Jiib's experience, it was usually the Werulfs who were more inclined to offer threats-- both overt and casual; the fact that it came from a Werber wasn't too out-of-the-expected, but the almost surreal calm with which the Werulf guard stared at her was almost disconcerting. She decided to see if she could test his resolve. "See something you like, handsome?"

The guard remaining in the basement prison on the other side of the bars only flicked an ear. "I will accept Lady Elizabeth's things if you are ready to surrender them. Returning her items may help you earn His favor."

Rather than give any indication as to her opinion on the matter of his suggestion, Jiib changed the topic, scratching at the inside of her ear with a pinkie as she spoke. "So... why do you call the lord of the house 'Master', and the Werber calls him 'Young Master'? Aren't the city elite supposed to have some kind of consistent terms of address or something?"

If she expected to get a rise out of the Werulf, she was let down. He blinked calmly. "Master Muscroft is the young master's father."

Jiib did some mental gymnastics to readjust her impression of Estate 7's power structure; before that night she didn't even know the family who owned it, and she was suddenly gaining more and more information. "So... your Master... Muscroft... I take it Lady Elizabeth is his wife?"

The Wolf flicked an ear, folding his arms across his chest. "Was."

The Werrit offered a disinterested "My condolences-- and then... what? That means the kid that your hefty girlfriend calls 'Young Master' is--"

"She is not my girlfriend."

Jiib rolled her eyes. "Oh, that's a relief. I'm glad to hear you're available. I've always had at thing for a man in unif--"

"I am not interested."

The Werrit smirked to herself, continuing her slowly reasoning as she approached the bars of her cell. "Okay, so... Lord Muscroft is the father of the 'Young Lord', and Lady Elizabeth is his mother?"

The Werulf shook his head. "No. Lady Elizabeth was Lord Muscroft's wife. She was not Joshua's mother."

Another name for Jiib to add to the esteemed family tree; she didn't always know how information could be useful but she wasn't about to let any possible value pass through her paws without maximizing her chance for gain. "Okay, well..." she motioned her head toward the stairs where the Werrit departed. "Big-Round-And-Angry calls the boy 'Young Lord' but you don't? What's up with that?"

The Werulf took a step closer when Jiib began fumbling with the laces on the pouch of stolen goods connecting it to her belt. "I swore myself to Lord Muscroft. His final request of me before His passing was to serve his son. I owe Joshua nothing-- he is not my master... he only inherited my services."

Jiib smiled. "Wow. That's kinda cold actually... commendable, and a little inspiring... but cold."

The lupine guardsman's eyes narrowed and his ears flattened enough for the Werrit to know that she had somehow managed to get on his bad side; it was dangerous, but she pressed her luck. "Well... I suppose it's good to know that, even with your master dead, you're still a good dog, huh?"

She fell away from the bars as the Wolf launched himself at her, his voice coming out as a bark and a growl. "He is everything to me! I will NOT let you soil my devotion to Him with your petty words, THIEF!"

The banging of the Werulf's large frame against the bars was Jiib's real goal and, satisfied that she'd been successful, remained where she was on the ground, pleased that her final store of Mana had been put to good use. Many of the other races knew that Werrits had an almost uncanny knack for theft, but only those truly in-the-know knew enough about their Racial Magic to know that magically inclined Werrits were the true masters of legerdemain. She kept the cell key tucked under her body, having filched it from the Wolf without his notice... and, in truth, without even risking the movement of her paw beyond the bars that kept her both a prisoner, and safe from the guard's rage.

The two said nothing to one another for many long minutes; the Werwulf continued staring daggers at her from the other side of the prison while she simply spent the time reclining, not about to risk him seeing the prize she had taken. Eventually his ears swiveled toward the stairs. Offering her a threatening glare, he turned his attention toward the exit calling over his shoulder. "Joshua Muscroft will see you soon."

With nothing else to be said, the Werulf walked away, leaving Jiib all alone. She smiled to herself, pulling out the key. The Rat gave her one-time jailer until the count of thirty until she went to release herself from the cell. In a matter of seconds she was free again. Although one bag full of treasures was far less than four, she decided then and there that discretion was the better part of valor; it was time to cut her losses and get the hell out of Estate 7.

Using all of her natural aptitude for stealth and skulduggery, the Werrit traversed the wooden stairs without as much as a squeak (from her or the wood). Arriving at the top, she checked the door and was surprised to find a lock on it as well; fortunately it didn't have a tech device securing it, and she quickly bypassed the security, easing the portal open and revealing the hallway she'd recalled being carried down before entering the basement; the burgundy carpet looked simultaneously rich and gauche.

She almost jumped out of her fur when a soft, calm, male voice intoned from behind her. "Hello, Miss. I am pleased to see that the accommodations provided to you by my servants were not a barrier to our meeting."

Spinning around, Jiib's paw went to a hidden blade in her cloak; she wasn't a killer, and wasn't about to hurt anybody if she could avoid it, but she wasn't about to get caught again. What she encountered, however, caused her to freeze. "Wha--?

The Human was perhaps two or three years her junior, somewhere in his late teens and nearing his twentieth year, but he had a demeanor about him that seemed ageless. He held himself casually, yet had the bearing of a king. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered how she could possibly NOT do as he bade her but the much louder front part of her mind told it to shut up. The young man was pale-- very pale, and his hair was far whiter than she'd ever seen on a Human... even Humans five times his age had gray hair, not white.

Despite the thousands of thoughts going through her mind she couldn't force herself to act. The Human stepped up, gently reaching out and taking her paw off of the pouch holding her 'earnings', and he offered it a surprisingly formal shake. "Joshua Muscroft. I believe Ferren had already introduced me."

Still uncertain as to the Human who stood before her, Jiib's free paw slowly moved away from her blade. "The... Werulf?"

The Young Lord's smile seemed genuine, though it hardly reached his eyes. "Indeed."

iib found herself staring at the boy's irises. Most Humans had blue or brown or gray eyes... some even had green ones, but the young man's were pink, not unlike the rare Werrit who was born with-- she realized what was so strange about him. "You're albino!"

He offered a nod, his plastic smile unchanging. "That is correct. I am many things, you see, and albinism is one of many traits I have. What of you... Miss....?"

The emptiness of his statement left a hollow silence. Jiib normally didn't mind silence, but something about it after he'd spoken was horribly uncomfortable. Surprising herself, she answered, filling in the blank on the question he had not answered. "Jiib."

His smile returned, somehow both genuine and incomplete. "Of course, Ms. Jibbelle. As I noted previously, I am pleased to see that your skills are top rate."

She wondered just how he managed to guess her entire name just off of her nickname, but there were more pressing concerns. "What? My skills? What's this about?"

Joshua motioned toward Jiib and then began walking toward her. She quickly stepped out of the way. "Come, Ms. Jiib... I have tea set up. You've passed your interview quite well, and now is the time I offer you a job."

Werrit were many things, and one of those was cautious. Some people thought of them as cowardly, but any Werrit with an intention on living knew that too many unknowns meant too many warning signs, and too many warning signs usually meant danger. Turning the opposite direction, Jiib sprinted down the hallway, moving toward what looked like a kitchen with an open window; ten steps... eleven at the most, and she'd be free.

Behind her,Jiib heard Joshua speak calmly, almost as if addressing a servant. "Ellis, Operator code Jos-Mus-Oh-Seven. Secure the hallway, please."

The Werrit experienced something she had never thought possible; she FELT reality change around her as the hallway leading to the kitchen simply... ceased to be. Slowly turning around to face the Human, everything slowly fell into place as she made sense of what the boy had said. "You.... you're an Operator."

The feelings she'd been having about him fell into place; despite modern Humans being "only Human" there were still rumors occasionally of a Human being born as an echo of the Great Ones who had created the world. Chief among them, the 'Operators' were beings who were said to be able to change reality itself with nothing more than a request. She'd heard the stories-- everyone had. Humans often lorded their history over the other races, and everyone was willing to place themselves beneath the descendants of the Great Ones but, in the hallway, she was facing a Human with a connection to that power?!? "You're... an Operator?"

Joshua motioned past himself toward what appeared to be a sitting room with a tea service prepared. "I inherited the designation from my father. Please... come sit. I understand you have many questions and I have several of my own. With your permission, I desire to trade answers."

In that moment, Jiib realized that his request was just as easily an order. Loosening her belt, the Werrit dropped her loot and the sheathed dagger in one go; if tea time didn't go well she was wholly certain that she wouldn't have use for either.