Solo To catch a Thief

[Cerius]

2nd of Summer 513
The Sunset Quarter

Cerius tried to keep low and quiet as he crept around the various run-down apartments and slums, located in the Sunset Quarter of Sunberth. It was a dank, not-too-pleasant smelling place, where health and luxury were the least of anyone's concerns, while surviving and basic nutrition were near god-send. His own little apartment was located among these buildings. Cerius trusted that he could at least keep his belongings safe at his apartment, as even though the place was relatively insecure, the door to his room at least had a lock system; the key to which he always kept safely on his person. He had left his backpack and money pouch back in his room, having only his assassin's dagger plus two throwing daggers on his person. Anyway, no one had any problems with him so far in this lawless city, what reason would they have to attempt to cross him, or try to break into his apartment while he was gone?

His target was a particularly run-down slum near the edge of the Sunset Quarter. The morning sun beat down on the bleached landscape, and offered little cover for the tall dark-haired mercenary as he neared the building while contemplating how he would break and enter in as subtle of a fashion as possible, while also aware of people around him, going about their daily business. Why would they suspect anything? He was also going about his daily business, as usual. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, though out of nervousness, or the fact he was wearing all black under this sun, he did not know. All he knew at this moment was the chest-high, stone wall which he nimbly pulled himself up and over, nearly barking his shin in the process, and swiftly jogging ahead to brace himself against the side of his target's building. In his head he recalled what information he had been given back at the Pig's Foot.

"I don't care how you do it, you get me that thesis. That old geezer shouldn't be too much for you to handle. He's already got one foot in the grave, that old fool." Said the man with rotten teeth and three fingers missing from his right hand, as they both nursed mugs of ale. Cerius had had to cough up 5 SMs before the man was willing to give him this much information. He had to relinquish another 5 before the unsightly man revealed the location of the target. "I will hand you 3 GM as an on-the-spot payment when you bring me back that thesis whole. Get on with it." Cerius was rudely turned away at this point. The task seemed simple enough; break into the old man's house, take the thesis, use force if necessary.

To his surprise, the back door was slightly ajar. If Cerius was relieved, he didn't show it. However bad the locks were around this area, he wasn't quite ready to try his luck. He gently pushed the door open, confirmed that it was clear. Creeping in and quietly closing the door behind him, Cerius almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of a loud sneeze from the room. He crouched lower and tried to hide himself, futilely in the shadow of the nearby kitchen counter. It was pointless, as the source of the sneeze was a man slouched in a wicker rocking chair, facing away from Cerius. From behind, the man did look very old. 'Poor fool. I wonder why no-one has stolen that thesis from him yet.' Cerius thought as he confirmed that the meager pile of documents were laying atop a desk surface at the other side of the room. Almost shaking in anticipation, he very slowly took a step forward. The floor creaked, and he froze. No reaction from the old man, who promptly coughed. He managed to get close enough to be within arm's reach, crouching right behind the rocking chair. 'No remorse. No regret. I'm sorry, mother.' Cerius closed his eyes for a split second, and the next he had his arm wrapped tightly around the old man's neck, preventing any sound from coming out other than strained gasps, and he stabbed his assassin's dagger straight into the side of his throat with a squelch and a spray of crimson blood. He stabbed again, viciously, sprouting more blood, and when he let go the man simply fell to the floor like a sack of bricks, on a growing pool of blood. Cerius wiped his dagger clean on the man's coat. That was when he noticed the man's arm twitched. Cerius sighed exasperately. "Die already, you senile bastard." He cursed as he plunged his knife into the man's back, and twisted it slightly amidst the low groans. The man stopped moving or making any sounds. A small grin tugged at the corner of Cerius's mouth. 'Success. Now, to get back to ol' captain toothless at the tavern.' So he thought as he wiped the dagger again, sheathed it, and went to grab the thesis.

[Cerius]

2nd of Summer 513
Pig's Foot Tavern

The warm, stuffy air of the tavern's common room hit Cerius in the face long before he reached the entrance to the lit, bustling, and noisy place. He had his guard up; any sort of drunkard from within who approached him meaninglessly would without doubt result in a brawl, and possibly injury for one or both patrons. He had things to do, so he couldn't have that. The man he was looking for merely raised his head from a wooden tabletop to glance at Cerius, briefly, with something close to contempt, before returning his gaze to his ever-present mug of ale which was gripped with his left hand since his right was missing the last three fingers. Cerius firstly approached the bar and clicked his fingers. "The usual." He said, simply. Merv, the old tough-as-a-root man who ran the tavern, served him a mug of local ale in a few practised movements, and waited until Cerius deftly flipped 4 CMs onto the counter. Merv nodded. "Thanks." Was his only word as he accepted the cash. Cerius took his mug and headed over to the table occupied by his temporary employer.

"Ah, back so soon?" Was the man's slightly sarcastic remark as Cerius settled on a nearby chair. "I've got what you wanted." Was his response as he reached behind, under his shirt, and fished out the folded documents, opening them none too discretely upon the wooden surface. The crooked man squinted and examined the text. "Ah.. perfect. Exactly what I needed. Well done, I guess." He promptly reached into his pouch, and slid his payment across the table towards Cerius, without so much as a thanks. Cerius accepted the money, and took another swig of the ale, not caring in the least. "So, how did you deal with old codger?" The man suddenly asked. The question caught Cerius off guard; what response would he receive if he revealed that he had actually murdered his victim? He took another swig of ale before replying, "He's dead."
There was a pause.
"You found him that way?"
To which Cerius remained quiet. The man let out a guffaw of laughter. "Young man, I'd say you've outdone yourself. You ruthless killer, you." He laughed again. Cerius sighed. "Kinda felt sorry for the old guy." Cerius barely saw, let alone reacted, to the fist that flew through the air and slammed straight into his left cheekbone. Even as he caught himself from falling backwards, one hand went to cup his cheekbone, the other to the hilt of his assassin's dagger, hiding in it's sheath on his belt. "Try that again, I'll slit your throat open." Cerius angrily challenged. The man was scowling furiously, and gritted his rotting teeth. "Don't you dare feel sorry for that old bastard. Do you know who he was? He was a local serial killer and rapist. He had many victims." The man suddenly seemed to break down, as his scowl disappeared and he looked solemn. "Including my dear daughter." Cerius relaxed somewhat as he considered this, but meanwhile could only stare in disbelief. After a couple of seconds, "Oh... I can't imagine what's it like to lose your daughter like that." He said. The man snorted. "Hmph. Well, glad you aren't throwing the usual cliche at me. 'Oh, I can imagine what it feels like.' No one can. To lose your beloved daughter like that. It's devastating, you know?" The man held up his right hand, wriggling the three stumps, like he was trying to prove something. "Yeah, that was me. It signifies that a part of me has been torn away, gone. Forever." He leaned closer to Cerius, who could only continue to stare and listen. "You listen to me. I'm giving you some free advice. Do not ever let despair get to you. Or you'll end up like me. Now, begone! Leave me to my ale in peace." The man waved the confused Cerius off, and he stood, taking his last swig of ale, before going to exit the tavern. It was already approaching evening as he walked out onto the street. He would have to move swiftly to return to his relatively safe apartment over at the Sunset Quarter. Not for the first time, he wondered how his falcon egg was doing. He had placed it in a metal container, covered in a bed of grass from the hills. It was warm enough, he hoped.

[Cerius]

2nd of Summer 513
Sunset Quarter

A wolf howled in the distance. "Ah, home not-so-sweet home." Cerius mused to himself as he pushed the creaking door open after a couple of minutes fumbling for his key and another few minutes struggling with the low quality, but sturdy lock. His apartment was simple and unadorned. Just a single, ramshackle room. His bed, consisting of a wooden bed-frame and a hard mattress, was pushed against one corner of the room, while a desk, utterly bare, was pushed against the other. There was a small, round wooden table in the centre of the room, with two sturdy wooden chairs around it. As his stomach rumbled, his gaze went over to the metal container sat on the desk. He could have sworn that he heard a slight chirp sound. He was about to shake it off when, chirp. Cerius immediately walked over to the desk and peered into the open-topped container. There he saw the egg rocking back and forth slightly. Erratically. As something was knocking at it from the inside. The chick, obviously. Cerius didn't even know what kind of falcon it was. Nor how to raise a falcon chick. All he really knew was that they were birds of prey, so their diet consisted of meat and fish. Cerius sighed and scratched his head. "Took you long enough, little birdie." He decided he'd go now to grab some fish and something for the chick to drink from. Maybe some information on raising a falcon, though he probably wouldn't find any. Giving the rocking egg one last glance, he turned to exit his apartment, checking his money pouch was secure on his belt. The shroud of the evening was beginning to creep over the sky.

The Fence

Cerius put away his waterskin as he entered The Fence, and gazed over behind the counter, where an unkempt man stood with multiple scars on his face. As Cerius approached, the man looked at him idly, then said in a rough voice, "Yeah, whaddaya lookin' fer?" To which Cerius responded "I was wondering if I could acquire a set of falconry equipment. Oh, and a small bowl."
The man snorted. "Falconry equipment, eh? There aren't be many people wantin' those. You're lucky though, I have a set right her'." He picked up a small backpack and set it on the counter, followed by a small bowl of hardened clay. "And here's yer mews. It should house yer falcon comfertably." He set a medium-sized cage on the counter. "That'll run ya... 30 gold mizas, bud'."
Cerius promptly fished out the money and placed them on the counter, the proceeded to heft the small backpack containing the falconry tools, and the cage, while placing the bowl in his own backpack. "Thank'ee." Said the man as Cerius went to leave.

Baker's Butchery and Bakeshop

After dropping the mews and falconry tools at his apartment, Cerius had had a quick meal of cold bread and cheese from his week's worth of rations. He had then left and made his way to the Baker's Butchery and Bakeshop. His destination was the butcher's, which was run by a man by the name of Kane Baker, as he had known. Cerius approached the counter. "Two pounds of fresh fish." He requested simply. Kane nodded and walked into the back room. There was the sound of chopping, followed by the slight rustling sound of wrapping, before the butcher walked back in with a white paper bag, filled with two pounds of chopped fish. He placed it on the counter. "That'll be 4 gold mizas, mate." Cerius paid him, took the bag, then turned to leave.

Sunset Quarter

As Cerius wandered back to the Sunset Quarter area, he glanced at his apartment from the outside. Something about it seemed to trigger a certain memory, but it was hazy. Something about the neighbouring apartment.. He lightened up a little as he remembered. A local patron at the Pig's Foot had mentioned that someone who was a little nuts, but a crackshot at raising predatory birds, lived around here. Cerius could confirm it was this particular building next to his own due to the crudely scratched symbol of a bird with it's wings spread on the front door. He made a mental note to visit after tending to his egg, or chick, if that was the case.

Once finally inside his apartment, he could fully make out the repeated chirping and squeaking coming from his desk, amplified slightly by the metal container from whence it came. Cerius wandered over to his desk to peer in. There, stood amongst broken pieces of egg shell and flapping it's tiny wing-bones, was a falcon chick. It was almost featherless, with streaks of brown running down it's back. As soon as it spotted this tall human peering down at it, the chick started squeaking more frantically, flapping it's little wing-bones faster and jutting it's head out with it's beak open. It was clearly hungry; anyone could have figured that out. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, as he opened the paper bag he was holding in his hands, and fished out a piece of fish, still fresh. He lowered it into the metal container and the chick, shaking and chirping with excitement, grabbed the piece in it's beak and tore off a bit, swallowing whole. It repeated the process, until all the fish was gone from between Cerius's fingers. It chirped once, seemingly full, and idly wandered around the metal container on the bed of grass.

Cerius reached down to pick up the mews that he bought, set it on the desk, and then gently reached into the metal container, at which the chick pecked at his hand questioningly. He was careful enough as he picked up the chick, but the tiny, featherless creature still squealed in protest. He managed to get it into the mews, where it jumped from his hand onto the metal floor of the cage and walked around, examining it's new surroundings with awe and confusion. Cerius partly filled the 5" bowl with some water from his waterskin, set it on the side of the cage, then closed it up as the chick went over to investigate the new object. It looked quite amusing, wandering around at the bottom of this tall, reasonably sized cage that was built to house a mature falcon. Cerius ensured that his falcon chick would be occupied and okay to be left alone for a little while, "Just, do whatever you need to do, little guy." And went to leave, a list of possible names for his new chick running through his head.

It was but a five-second-walk from his door to that of the neighbouring building. Cerius raised his hand, knocked twice upon the door with the bird carving. It swung open fully, almost immediately. An exceedingly thin woman, dressed in a leather tunic and breeches was revealed, standing in the doorway. A regal, reddish-brown hawk was perched on her shoulder, staring straight at Cerius with what looked like a frown. "Hello! Please, come right on in. I won't stand for ceremony in my house." She ushered Cerius in, and shut the door behind him. Without him even saying anything, the woman answered the question that he was about to ask. "Oh, him?" She pointed at the vigilant hawk perched on her shoulder. "His name is Sir Flaps-a-lot. Yeah, I know, I named him myself. Hehe. Come on! I'm sure you're craving some Sunberthian tea." The women was about to bound off to the kitchen area of the room when Cerius spoke, "No, not at all. Sunberthian tea does not sit well with me." The skin around the woman's eyes tightened slightly, but if she was angry at all, she did not let it show. "Oh.. I see! Well, not to worry. I'm sure you are not here to admire my birdie pal here." She scratched her shoulder-hawk under his chin. "What can I do for you?" The thin woman asked. Cerius wasn't too sure where to start, so he simply went with, "I want to raise a falcon. But I don't have the know-how." It was straight to the point. The woman pursed her lips a little. "Hmm, well. You see, I'm not really offering lessons, or apprenticeships, or whatever, in falconry anymore. Far too old for that now. Me and Sir-flaps-a-lot have been around here for about ten years, and I retired a couple of years back." Cerius was about to express his disappointment, even threaten the woman into teaching him, when she continued. "Although, if you wish only to learn the basics of raising a hawk or falcon, I have a little book on the topic. It'll cost you, though. 5 gold mizas." He almost rolled his eyes. How much more was he to spend? "Fine. 5 gold mizas it is. Better be worth it." Cerius rummaged in his pouch for the money. "Oh, it'll be worth it. Raising a birdie is so much fun!" The woman said excitedly. "Ah, if you don't mind, do you have a falcon egg yet?" She enquired. Cerius paused with his hand in his money pouch. "Yea- No. No, I don't." There was a slight pause, where no one said anything. "It had hatched." As he handed the woman the money, to which she promptly reached under the nearby counter and took out a small book, more like a scroll, with a crude drawing of the bird symbol on her front door, on the cover. It would have to do. "Oh! It has? You must show me at once!" The woman didn't give the baffled Cerius time to respond as she swung open the creaking front door and ushered him out. By this time it was quite dark outside in the dank streets of the Sunset Quarter; it was fortunate that his apartment was neighbouring.

Cerius unlocked the door to his apartment at last and let the over-eager woman in, the ever present hawk still perched silently on her shoulder. He immediately walked over to the mews sat on his desk. On the floor of the cage sat his falcon chick. The brown streaks on it's back did look more slightly prominent this time. The water in the bowl was half gone. He was about to say something when the woman popped up next to him. It occurred to Cerius, not for the first time, that he didn't even know her name. It probably didn't matter. "Ah.. that, I know that variety. This particular chick is a Brown Falcon. One of your more average types, size and most things, really." Cerius scratched his forehead, a little impatient. He couldn't care less about the details. But it was free information; why would be complain? The woman continued, "From the size of it's beak and shape of it's body, it is probably a female. Can't fully tell this early. Although," She turned to face Cerius. "Take good care of it. One pound of fish or meat and a bowl of water a day, no less. You have that book I gave you; make use of it." Cerius wasn't one to express gratitude for anything, so he simply nodded. The woman smirked. "Great! Well, I'll be seeing you. Let me know sometime how your little falcon is coming along!" Without another word, she turned and left, shutting the unlocked door behind her. Cerius lowered his hand into the cage, where his falcon chick pecked and poked at his finger feebly. 'If what she said is right, I may have come up with a name for you.' The chick continued pecking at his fingertip. 'Pecklin.. Beaklin.. Beaktrice? No. Falklin. No, doesn't sound right.' He stroked his chin, which was dotted with faint stubble. "Ah. I will call you Elise. After my childhood friend back in Syliras. She did grow up to be a slattern, so hope you don't mind." He was satisfied the name would stick.

Elise continued to peck at his finger.

[Twister]

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Grade on Hold.

You have yet to pay your Seasonal Expenses for the season in which you threaded (Summer513 AV). In the event of your return to the site, please subtract your Seasonal Expenses from your Ledger and I will post up your grade here. Until then, I will hold on to it.

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