The lounge was packed, crates stacked high along the walls. Rook stood at the center table, tallying up the haul while guild members milled about, some still nursing bruises from the last raid.
"Think we've done enough, boss?" someone called from the back. A few others murmured agreement. "We've hit them pretty hard already."
Kurt, who'd been pacing near the window, patting his empty coat pockets in a futile search for cigarettes, stopped dead.
His head turned slowly, and when he finally spun around to face the murmuring crowd, his expression had darkened.
"Enough?" The word came out sharp. "Ladies... and gents." He shook his head, pulling a toothpick from a container on the counter and jamming it between his teeth. "You know, Cassandra's right about one thing. We're not nearly doing enough, lads."
He started pacing again, gesturing wildly with the toothpick as though it were a conductor's baton. "They killed three of ours!" He cleared his throat. "Alright, the Dungeon did them in, but that's not the sodding point, is it?"
His voice rose with each word. "No! They don't get to walk away with their hands clean. They wanted us dead, and now we're supposed to what?"
He jabbed the toothpick toward Paul who did nothing but seat quietly on stool. "Pack up and call it a day because we nicked a few crates? Bollocks to that."
The guild erupted in shouts of agreement, fists pounding on tables. Just a few hours ago, Kurt was the one asking Rook if they were poking the bear a little too much. Now here he was, riling up the guild.
Rook stepped forward, raising one hand, and the room fell silent almost immediately. "Kurt's right."
He let the words hang there, scanning the faces around him. "We didn't start this fight. But we're sure as hell going to finish it."
His voice hardened in a way that was cold and resolute. "We don't stop until they've paid for every life they tried to take. We hit them where it hurts, and we don't let up until there's nothing left. That's what it means to be Raven's Crow. We protect our own. And we make damn sure no one forgets what happens when you cross us."
The room exploded again, louder this time, voices rising in a unified roar.
Later, as the noise died down and people drifted back to their tasks, Rook walked over to Emma, who was fieldstripping a pistol near the guild quest board. "What's up?"
"We're heading into the B-rank district again," Rook said. "I've got a contact who may have a lead on one of the loot houses."
Emma didn't look up, snapping the slide back into place with a satisfying click. "When?"
"Tomorrow. Early." Rook paused. "I'll need to grease a few palms to get you clearance again."
Kurt, leaning against a nearby table, raised an eyebrow. "That must have been one hell of a bribe."
Rook shrugged. "Yeah. But we got a return on investment. And I need my number two with me on this."
Emma reassembled it, checked the chamber, and grinned. "You got it, boss."
Kurt smirked, pulling the toothpick from his mouth. "So I got my certificate today. I'll be heading to the E-rank district tomorrow. Should be fun."
Emma tapped his shoulder as she walked past, her tone dry. "Remember what I said about not fucking up?"
Rook followed her, pausing just long enough to add, "Don't screw this up. Try to keep a low profile."
Kurt opened his mouth to respond, but Lizzie popped up from nowhere, grinning like a lunatic. "Hey, if you fuck it up, there's always the contact Rook's gonna meet."
Kurt groaned, rubbing his face. "Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. Nothing like a vote of confidence to send a man off on a mission."
He threw his hands up. "Why don't you all just tattoo 'You'll Probably Fail' on my forehead and be done with it?"
Lizzie giggled from a distance. "Would if I had a pen!"
He muttered something under his breath about needing a bloody drink and stalked out the back door.
***
The air outside was cool and quiet, a welcome break from the chaos inside. Kurt leaned against the wall, closed his eyes, and let the guild's noise fade into the background.
Then he heard it. The sharp whoosh of a blade cutting through air.
He opened his eyes and spotted Cassandra in the training yard, her sword slicing through the air with deadly calm.
Sweat slicked her pale skin as she moved through a series of strikes, completely absorbed in the rhythm.
She was no longer alone, but she didn't seem to notice, her focus was narrowed to the blade and the space around her.
Kurt watched for a moment, then pushed off the wall and walked over. "Didn't take you for the late-night training type. Thought you'd be inside counting stolen gold or something."
Cassandra didn't stop, didn't even glance at him. "I don't sleep much."
"Figures," Kurt said, leaning against a post. "So what's this then? Keeping sharp? Or just working out some frustration?"
"Both." She finished a strike, spun the blade in her hand, and finally looked at him. "You're heading out tomorrow."
"Word travels fast," Kurt said.
Cassandra sheathed her blade. "If you're going to gather information from the Foxhole, you'll need to be ready for anything. Your abilities are strong, but you're still sloppy."
Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Sloppy?"
"You improvise," Cassandra said flatly. "It works. But against someone who knows what they're doing, you'll get yourself killed."
Kurt grinned. "I've died plenty already, love. Seems to be working out for me."
Cassandra's expression didn't change. "I'm offering to train you. Your abilities have potential. You just need to learn how to use them properly."
Kurt considered it for a moment, then shook his head. "Appreciate the offer, but I've always been more of a winging-it kind of bloke. Plans fall apart the second the first punch gets thrown anyway."
Cassandra studied him, then nodded once. "Suit yourself."
He turned to leave, then paused. "Try not to miss me too much when I'm gone yeah?"
Cassandra's lips curved into the faintest hint of a cold smile. "I'll manage."
Kurt made his way back toward the guild entrance, already mentally preparing for tomorrow when he heard someone call out his name.
"Kurt!"
He turned just in time for Lizzie to leap onto his back, her arms wrapping around his neck and he caught her thighs instinctively, holding her up as she bit his ear playfully.
"Don't forget to bring me a souvenir." Lizzie said brightly.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Kurt said, adjusting his grip as he carried her like that out to the street, where she finally dropped down, landing lightly on her feet.
She stretched up on her tiptoes, grabbed the front of his coat, and pulled him down into a kiss, her tongue playing around with his for a moment before pulling back. "For the road," Lizzie said, grinning.
Kurt blinked, still processing, as she skipped back toward the guild entrance and yelled one more time, "Souvenir, Kurt!"
"Right," Kurt muttered, shaking his head. "Off to the E-rank district, then. What could possibly go wrong?"
He turned and walked into the night, the city lights flickering ahead of him, and didn't look back.
***
A/N: I hope you're enjoying this so far. Add to Library and send a power stone or two if you're.
And a review or two would mean something to me! Thank you and peace!