An old underworld truth: when loyalty has a price, every oath is for sale. No trust, no code, no honour — only the next betrayal. Longer version for the Rook aesthetic: It’s the law of the back room and the courtroom at 1:40pm. No honour amongst thieves means alliances last until the pockets get light. Handshakes hide crossed fingers. Bibles become props. Bubbles — those fragile promises — pop the second someone else offers more. The Latin seals it: NULLA FIDES INTER FURES. No faith between thieves. Not because they’re monsters, but because the whole game runs on taking what isn’t yours. You can’t steal and swear you won’t be stolen from. Visual description if you’re using the seal: A circular seal, courtroom stark. Photoreal leather glove poised over scripture or a trembling bubble. Black text, period first — . no honour amongst thieves — like it’s muttered after the gavel falls. It’s not a threat. It’s an autopsy report for trust