Skip navigation
Library

Brief Histories of the Gray Fox, Volume I: An Introduction

1 reply [Last post]
Lady N's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/26/2010

Author - StopTalkingAtMe

Find them on Archive of Our Own.


 

Brief Histories of the Gray Fox, Volume I: An Introduction
by Corvus Umbranox, Count of Anvil

This first volume, and all the volumes that follow, I dedicate to my beloved wife.

Many have speculated on the existence of a Thieves’ Guild within Cyrodiil, drawing inferences from the inability of historians to document such a group, or casting doubt on how such disparate and inherently dishonest characters as thieves could form and maintain cohesion within a structured guild.

To that I would say we are each of us dishonest in our own ways. The innkeep who waters down his ale. The baker who adulterates her bread with powdered alum. The customs officer who accepts with equanimity and dignity the bribe he considers his due right. The husband who keeps his wife and his mistress both.

We are all thieves and liars, in one way or another, and yet somehow we have managed to keep the province from crashing down about our ears, despite the best attempts of those who work against the Empire. We manage. Why should thieves not be quite capable of doing the same?

Matters have changed somewhat over the course of the past few years, and I do not refer only to the end of the Third Era, and the lamented downfall of the Septim Dynasty. Nowhere is this change more evident than in the Imperial City, and in particular the Waterfront District. Whilst I am not a scholarly man, it seems to me that the existence of a Thieves’ Guild within Cyrodiil can no longer be denied. It is as if the thieves have finally stepped out of the shadows.

No doubt many will think it odd that a Count of Anvil, even one who, dare I say it, has managed to garner something of a reputation (which is of course entirely misplaced), should take an interest in such matters. Many rumours of my own long absence abound, many scurrilous and an ongoing source of pain to my beloved Lady Wife, but most ridiculous of all is the suggestion that I myself was once a member of the Thieves’ Guild. No doubt this series of volumes will only add kindling to the rumours, yet that cannot be helped.

In truth my interest in the Guild is easily explained. A count has a duty to each of the citizens of his city, whether criminal or honest man, insofar as an ‘honest man’ can be said to exist. It would be reckless, too, to make the assumption that thieves and criminals have nothing to offer society as a whole.

For example, the specifics of the Blades’ acts over the course of the preceding decades will no doubt be forever shrouded in history, but it is clear that at times they have had course to call on the aid of criminals to serve of the Empire. Nor can we entirely disregard the persistent rumours that Emperor Martin Septim himself may developed a close personal friendship with a member of the guild in the last weeks of his life. Inevitably, these rumours have been overshadowed by the more compelling whispers of his heretical past as an acolyte of the Daedric Lord Sanguine. Whether there is any truth to either tale, when it comes to rumours, sex and scandal win out over mere criminality every time, as my wife and I have learned to our cost.

Anvil itself saw the unfortunate result of unaffiliated thievery and the unnecessary bloodshed that can result in the eventful summer of 3E 433, when a gang of Lady Thieves preyed on men who were less than faithful to their wives. I should here add that one of the rumours surrounding my absence has me acting either as their leader or their prisoner, kept imprisoned in their basement and subject to their cruel whims and fancies. It should go without saying that this is nonsense.

This gang, who were harmless enough, although a great many sheepish men and angry wives might well disagree, were needlessly slaughtered when, fearing the punishment that awaited them, they refused to surrender to the authorities. How different things might have been had they been members of the guild with the protection that entailed? This unnecessary bloodshed might well have been avoided.

Indeed, my own research points to a Thieves’ Guild that is to some extent self-policing, with firm strictures and penalties in place to prevent unfortunate deaths or serious injury, either of the citizens they steal from or of each other. Murder, after all, is bad for business. And in my capacity as Count of Anvil, although I cede in all things to the judgement of my wife, I call for tolerance and clemency, for carceral punishment rather than capital. Even criminals may yet have a part to pay.

I am under no illusions, however. These are criminals we are talking about, and despite the romantic notion of ‘honour amongst thieves’ no doubt there are many amongst their number who would quite happily stab their grandmothers in the back for the gain of a single clipped Septim. Just as the Legion requires the firm hand of a general to control the well-trained, highly efficient killing machines within its ranks, so too does the Thieves’ Guild require a leader with the strength to keep its members in line

Enter the Gray Fox.

Can there be a man, woman or child in the Empire who is not now intimately familiar with the mask of the Gray Fox, that chill cowl of felted wool, traditionally worn by the semi-legendary leader of the Thieves’ Guild, who has ruled their number since time immemorial? He is a phantom, a fairy-tale, scourge of every wealthy merchant who seeks to cheat the honest and the poor. And surely he must also be immortal, for how else could any one man rule a guild for several hundred years?

Of course such a thing cannot be.

And so he thing more than a story, a wisp of smoke from a campfire on the banks of the Rumare, a whispered rumour from the lips of one thief to another. In other words, a ghost.

The truth is far more prosaic.

There has been not one Fox, but many, ruling the Thieves’ Guild with drastically varying degrees of competency, dedication and skill. The notorious cowl has been passed down along a line that stretches from a man whom I would describe as the second-greatest thief of all time to the present day leader of the guild.

The men, women and mer named within the pages of this first volume are all individuals whom I have been able to identify as having once worn the cowl. In some cases I could quite easily dedicate entire multi-volume tomes to a single Fox’s exploits, although I have strived at all times to keep individual histories succinct and to the point. Other entries scarcely consist of more than a line or two. It is to my great regret that in some cases, I have been unable to uncover so much as a name, although my research continues, and I hope to be in a position to rectify these omissions in future editions.

Before we begin, however, it is my duty to thank a number of people who have provided assistance throughout the writing of this work.

First, and most importantly, I must mention my Lady Wife, the Countess Millona Umbranox, whose tolerance, forgiveness, patience and grace I am sure many would agree I do not deserve.

Secondly, my secretary and man-of-business, Armand Christophe, himself a reformed character, whose loyalty and connections have proved invaluable to the process of writing this humble collection of histories, a task made ever harder by my failing eyesight. He has truly been my ears, and in many respects, my eyes.

Thirdly, Captain Hieronymous Lex, who has proved himself a staunch ally to Anvil and, I am very glad to say, a close personal friend. Without his help and intimate knowledge of the workings of the Thieves’ Guild, and of the Gray Fox in particular, this volume and those that follow might never have been completed. I owe him a debt of gratitude and my unwavering friendship.

And finally, the Gray Fox. All of them. Thieves or not, they deserve to have their stories known.

Lady N's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/26/2010

This piece was written for our 20th anniversary fan art contest! It is strictly property of its original creator - you may not modify, publish, or redistribute it without explicit permission from the artist.