Kolin and Indy: Fire and Ice

You had better be right about this hunch of yours, Duquesne.

 
Kolin McKenzie crawled through the cisterns behind Raythanya's, maneuvering deftly but far from "gracefully" through the muck and refuse that flowed through the plumbing in the city of Greynor. The bartender at the well-known establishment, and a fence for the local thieves' guild, it was Kolin's business to know his way around the city and especially "his" bar. A few steps behind, his partner in crime (as usual), Indira Duquesne, crept along. He matched his elder in grace and moved with more purpose, his larger frame providing more raw power than the lithe McKenzie, but youth and strength often deferred to knowledge and wisdom in delicate matters. Seven years his "mentor's" junior, "Indy" Duquesne was taller and broader. The half-elf was the spitting image of two of the old Heroes of Craysilt and the progenitors of his family line, Rialto Duquesne and Ithanya Ancilar, despite being several generations removed from these heroes of legend, and his green eyes burned with a savage curiosity that yearned to be satisfied.
 
I swear to you, Kolin, I saw a pair of shady lookin' types using the cisterns outside of the bar as a dead drop. Heard 'em outside my bedroom window too. I wouldn't have you crawling through the shit unless I was serious... or far more bored than this, at least.
 
Shrugging his shoulders, Kolin led on, carefully prodding and poking at any irregularities in the stonework of the cisterns the pair waded through for the next couple hours. Indira was by far the more trustworthy of the two, so Kolin searched harder than he would were it some less principled youth providing this scandalous claim. "Fire and Ice," people called the pair, Kolin's fiery temper and undeniable passion for life offsetting the calm confidence and collected actions of Indira. Just when he was about to call off the searching and hand Indy a friendly ass-whooping for the wild goose chase, McKenzie caught a loose stone in the wall of the drainage basin they wandered through. Directly underneath Indy Duquesne's second-story window, it lined up perfectly with what the young man told Kolin initially. Kolin pulled out a small cigar box, inside of which was a bag of coin and rolled up missives, parchment notes with apparent locations of robbery targets around Greynor.
 
Indy, a lot of these targets are former Wharf Rats turned local merchants. A few are fellow Guild members. Whoever is doing these jobs has brass balls and probably the sense to back 'em up.
 
The young man's silver hair bobbed into his face as he nodded emphatically.
 
Absolutely right, Kolin... what are we gonna do about it?
 
The bartender shot a look back at his young barback and close friend, barely on the precipice of adulthood. Indy was strong, agile, and he had a charm about him that could not be denied. But he wasn't ready for this step up in the game, still too gentle, too trusting. Perhaps he'd always be, and there were other ways a guy like Indira could help the cause...
 
We are doing nothing about it, young Duquesne. Head back inside, take care of the customers, make sure the rest of the staff is moving along well. I'll be back in a few hours, gotta get the word to the Guild, see what oughta be done.
 
Hopefully it'll be someone else's problem altogether, kid.