not feeling the art lately. Here, however, is a little glimpse at Elyott's life
Truth be told, Darius was rather pleased with himself. More than usual. Extraordinarily pleased. It was putting Elyott off.
In all fairness, they had just scored a beautiful coup. Under Darius' expert supervision, several wagonloads of arms and ammunition intended for the Lionguard had recently disappeared from caravans bound for Lion's Arch. Said weapons had been traded to a group of desperate pirates for provisions and livestock at a remarkably good exchange rate. Said provisions in turn had been subsequently sold on to the increasingly desperate Lionguard at extortionate prices (what with supply caravans being attacked and all). It was very good business.
Still, Elyott was concerned. It had all gone too well. Darius had that look again, the one that told everyone what a brilliantly clever bastard he was. Overabundant success would get to his head, as it always did. He would get blasted on some cheap imported rice wine in the company of cheap imported girls, as he always did, and brag, as he always did. From there on, things generally went downhill pretty rapidly. There would be scrambling, running and shouting and Darius would vanish into one of his copious hideouts and leave Elyott to deal with the guards, only to reappear a few days later with a new, brilliantly clever "business idea". Why he stuck with this guy, Elyott wasn't sure anymore. The money was good and the work was easy, but with the amount of pushing Darius did, his luck was bound to run out some day.
If nothing else, it allowed Elyott to keep an eye on Kendra. His little sister was far too apt to fall for brilliantly clever crooks with large mouths and even larger egos. She was also far too adept with her throwing knives for him to get involved in her private life in a more direct manner. He sometimes wondered whether he had been (was?) a good enough brother, but then Kendra had rarely looked to him for help even when she was little, and his own life was, gently speaking, a mess, effectively deriving him of any sort of status as a decent role model. He guessed it didn't matter too much. Kendra actively discouraged the practice of being looked after, anyway.
He scowled into his tankard. In the early hours of the evening the tavern was doing a roaring trade on food and drink and music, all of it cheap and all of it of dubious origin and debatable quality. Across the table, Darius was fumbling with the skirts of a serving girl and had donned a lewd face instead of his smug one for the occasion. Elyott's scowl deepened. Sleazy bastard. Whatever did Kendra see in him? He wasn't going to ask her, but he sure as hell would like to know. He was hardly an authority on fidelity and serious relationships, but every now and then he was drawn to hypocrisy, and it was usually drink that drew him. He was so absorbed in scowling at his ale and pretending that Darius wasn't making a colossal fool out of himself again that he very nearly missed the commotion at the door.