Jack looked around at the other Thieves' guild representatives. Two humans, who squirmed in their chairs, and refused to meet his gaze, and two halflings who were more busy stuffing their silverware into their belt pouches to pay any attention. Well, none of them seemed to be adventuring material. And besides, they had let him speak for the whole of them earlier, they surely would now.

"You," he pointed at one of the halflings, "give me your lockpicks. The rest of you, twenty gold each. Otherwise, I'll tell them that you want to go on this adventure of theirs." Molified, the two halflings and one of the humans threw purses and picks at Jack. The other human groaned, and stood, drawing his sword.

"Come on, Jack, you wanted this, it's your duty to go."

In a flash, Jack's red blade was out of its scabbard, and in the chest of the thief. Crimson blood spurted, the same color as the sword. Jack reached down, and carefully cleaned out the man's possessions. Forty gold, another set of lockpicks, two serviceable daggers. Jack sighed as he took back his sword, wiping the blade upon the dead man's coat.

He took his new possessions, and turned to walk out of the room, towards the main gate.