Nameless snorted, killing his current mug, and refilling. "Because it worked within the Steward's plans. He doesn't WANT the nation getting too powerful, otherwise the nobles get bored and start thinking dangerous thoughts, and he can't really run the nation properly if the nobles are busy trying to give him a six inch steel spike dinner. Fun fact, did you ALSO know that he is indirectly supporting at least a quarter of the bandits that 'rampage' through the nation? Far easier to control it that way, keep the locals in the towns where he can put his personal guards to... 'reassign' dissenting or too loudly complaining individuals.<br/><br/>Hell, why do you think the thieves' guild works with him? It was either that, or get eliminated in a full on, total assault by town guards, soldiers, and his personal guards. So we supply what we learn to him, and work as he directs, and he doesn't cause things that make our job harder. A riot is a god damn catastrophe as far as the thieves' guild is concerned. Everyone is scared and carefully monitoring everything, the guards and soldiers are wandering around looking for a reason to crack skulls afterwords, and all valuables are hidden far more than they were before."<br/><br/>He took a long pull from the mug, before sighing, his depression finally matching his rage, and he seemed to have deflated a bit. "THAT is why I so angry. The killing and stupid politics is bad enough, but that is a direct violation of our contract with him. And I have to let the damn guild master know. NOW."<br/><br/>He sighed, and pulled out a quill and paper, and scribbled for a few seconds, before suddenly freezing, his expression slowly becoming one of dawning horror and terror. He stared at the paper, slowly recoiling from it like it had just turned into a poisonous spider, and very carefully pushed it away from him. His face was bloodless, and he was shaking slightly, before rubbing his face. "God fucking dammit to the deepest hell abyss."