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Are any of the other outcomes that are nonsensical like that, if it turns out that the man is a Thief-Taker? Two and three remain solid either way. Outcome one might be less likely if the man is with the Guild, but it still makes sense, unlike four. A Thief-Taker might want to cultivate you for information, or to turncloak. In fact, if he is aware that you took off many, many more talents out of the Euthyphro than are being offered for your capture, then it is possible that all he wants is to be cut in. So, outcome one is still reasonably possible, though admittedly less likely if it turns out that the man is in fact a Thief-Taker.
What this all works out to mean is that with everything else held equal, the odds of you walking out of here peacefully are greater if you tell the truth than if you lie – at least, as best as you can figure. You realize that your mouth has gone bone dry, as your stomach starts tumbling like an acrobat. You swallow, and try to sit up a little straighter as you compose yourself. It is at this point that you realize that you have been trembling, and you sit up even more, hoping that the tension will hold you steady. You reiterate your promise to yourself once more – that if you manage to get out of this, then you will never let your guard down in public, ever again. You take one last deep breath, and then there is nothing left to do – but hope that the truth really will set you free.
“W-what are – I … what do y-you want to know?”
The Tartessian looks at you for a moment.
“You know, that is not exactly an admission of guilt, is it?”
After a moment of staring, you realize that he expects you to answer. You lick your lips, thinking of what to say, but in the end, you just decide to shake your head no.
“So then, did you do it?”
You are trembling again, and once more you feel as if you are on the verge of tears. This is it. If this is some manner of Trial, then you hope you have it figured out correctly, because if you haven’t then … you are going to be running for your life, and in the process you are probably going to lose out on the chance to exfiltrate father’s equipment and notes out of the Midden. You offer up a quick silent prayer, and then, even though your neck feels as if it as stiff as steel, you force yourself to nod in the affirmative.
“Finally, we are getting somewhere. Why?”
For a split second, your heart soars at how disaffected he sounds after hearing your confession, thinking that he genuinely does not care … then you realize that if this a trap it is only going to spring once you try to leave, and once more you are a bundle of cringing nerves. Just wanting to get this over with, you compel yourself to answer, shifting uncomfortably on the booth all the while.
“Money.”
He snorts at that.
“Well, I could figure that out on my own. But why the Euthyphro?”
