Wild Streets - Spring/Summer 510(ALL Beggars, Thieves, Etc)

[Nyahna Sasin]

Timestamp: 53rd of summer, 510 AV

People, people, people. Humans, kelvics, the odd Charoda. So many people, so many choices. Humans were the best. Numerous, generally rich, and very unaware. Sasin let his eyes wander over the crowd milling through the Bazaar, every once in a while making sure his target was still in sight.

He has dressed as inconspicuously as he could. He had learned that yes, black was good for hiding, and no, black was not good for looking innocent.

He glanced back at his target, noting that she seemed to be wrapping up her transaction. He almost felt sorry that he was stopping this woman's shopping trip prematurely. Almost, but not quite.

Sasin sighed, and started to move, his hand slipping into his pocket, fingers holding the small blade hidden within. After injuring himself a few times, he had finally given up on being able to use the ribbon daggers without almost poking his eye out. He had, however, discovered that ribbon daggers, minus ribbons, were good for separating purses from belts. Perhaps with more practice, he thought dryly, he would be able to use it without cutting his fingers every other week.

He followed her from a distance, occasionally stopping at shops to create the illusion of, well, not following someone. Not well enough, unfortunately. One of the shopkeepers noticed him glancing in her direction, and leaned forward. "You look rather interested in that woman over there." He remarked.

Sasin hesitated, his mind trying to find an reasonable excuse. Luckily for him, he noticed a couple shopping nearby. He immediately dragged forth to the front of his mind every embarrassing thought, every humiliating memory. He felt his cheeks begin to burn, and looked down, as if in shame. "You.." His voice dropped into what he hoped sounded like an embarrassed mumble. "You noticed? Was I really that...that obvious?"

The shopkeeper swallowed the story, hook line and sinker. "Oh no!" He exclaimed hurriedly, attempting to reassure the obviously (to him) lovestruck, embarrassed young man. "I just happened to notice, and, well, I just wondered. " He paused for a minute, trying to think of the right thing to say. "Are you looking for something to give to your, um.. lady friend over there."

He glanced at her again, reassured as he saw she was still rather close. "Something like that." he muttered, acting embarrassed. He needed to get away. He wasn't a very good actor, and the more time he spent here, the larger chance there was that he would get caught. "I just need to find something that will get her to notice. It's like...." And here his shoulders slumped slightly, his voice slipping into a shaky whisper, "like she doesn't even know I exist."

The shopkeeper nodded sympathetically. "I see. Well, don't worry. I'm sure she's just to shy to go talk to you. Why don't you try make the first move?"

He hesitated, then smiled shyly at the shopkeeper. A movement in the corner of his eye grabbed his attention, and he turned in time to see her round a corner. His eyes widened, and he must have showed some flash of emotion, for the shopkeeper immediately pushed him in her general direction. He nodded, and, almost forgetting to let go of his blade, waved to the shopkeeper as he speed walked around the corner towards her, not quite daring to run.

It took a few seconds but he managed to get behind her as she leaned forward to examine some jewelry. His knife flashed out and he caught the purse, slipping it into his pocket. He tapped her on the shoulder, asking her if she could make space for him. She obliged, moving to the side so he could look closer.

He examined a few necklaces for a moment, before flashing a smile at the stallkeeper and turning away.

That, he decided, was probably more trouble than it was worth, but still, money was money, and problems were just tests of skill to be overcome.

SkillsLarceny:27

[Ash'eny]

Ash'eny was captured. His brown eyes, simple, dark, contrasting heavily with the Knight's beautiful gaze, quickly pointed towards his feet, as if it would hide him from sight. He listened though, intently, every word she said was truth. He loved to steal, he hated it equally. He grew up on it, learning to live off of his skills. To date, theft was what defined him. He was a thief, not a productive citizen of society. Hell, Ash'eny didn't even have any actual worth within the city. But he had a conscience, and petching shyke, this woman was reading him like a book. Ash'eny was silent for a long moment, frozen now in sorrow rather than fear. It was rare that Ash'eny talked about himself, it was too dangerous to do so for obvious reasons, and here she was, she did know him. What a relief, he no longer had to lie, at least not for the moment. That was one burden temporarily lifted from his shoulders. Ash'eny nodded slowly, still holding his gaze towards the ground as she touched his hair, he couldn't, for some reason, stand to look at her. He was guilty, she knew it just as he did. Finally he spoke, though his voice was barely a whisper, "It kills me."

[Gareth]

Timestamp: 510 AV, 2nd of Summer.

Gareth weaved his way through the crowds, his black hood raised over his head. Here he was, a stranger in this city of... what was it, Slyras, no, Syliras. Yes, that's what it was called. His clothes, black hooded jacket and long burgundy pants. Not very good for blending into crowds, but they were his only pair. Slowly, he scanned the crowds, looking for anyone with a loose money-pouch.

Below the hood, Gareth smirked. Easy money. He picked out from the crowd, a man in a grey shirt, and began to follow him. As the man rounded a corner, Gareth drew his dagger, with a blackened silver blade, a bold hilt and a jewel at the end, it was the furthest from a thieves dagger as possible. With it, he quickly removed the money pouch of the man, before jostling him with his shoulder.
"Sorry bout that."
With that, Gareth turned, walking in the opposite direction.

[Dusk]

Eris Ran smiled, liquid and smooth as good whiskey. "Glad to hear it," he chuckled, leaning forward a bit before climbing to his feet. "I'll have your first assignment delivered to your room at sunset tomorrow. It'll include instructions on how to contact me should it become necessary, though I expect not to hear from you unless you're in a jail cell surrounded by Knights, or some equally harrowing situation," he laughed. "We'll clean up here," he said with a chin thrust towards the silent bedroom. "And you won't be needing those," he smirked, holding out a hand for the papers she held.

Ash'eny The woman sighed softly at the admission, and a smile flickered across her lips - though whether Ash would see it or not depended on whether he glanced up. "I am Stewart Knight Tucesi Deerstalker of the 3rd Regiment, Black Company," she murmured, the smile settling a little more firmly as she dropped her hand down to Ash's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "And I am here to tell you that these skills you have? They don't have to be used only for ill. We could use men with clever hands and open eyes."

[Ash'eny]

Ash'eny's gaze was, for the longest time, reluctant to move from the earthen floor beneath his feet. He was more than scared, he was ashamed, yet the feeling of the woman's small, yet powerful hand, caused his shoulders to relax, and it wasn't until then that he realized how tense he was. Ash'eny just stood there as if that hand, almost comforting, was like a lead weight shackling him to the very spot he stood. He waited for a slap, a stab, a punch, a whistle to the other knights, perhaps she would simply drag him out of Syliras herself and toss him into the untamed wilderness. No? Ash'eny's gaze jerked up so quick that he had difficulty finding the woman's eyes for a brief moment. Searching they were now, no longer hiding in shame, but searching for a sign of deceit, or a sign of truth. What did Ash'eny find? Nothing, nothing but an odd warmth in her eyes. He wanted to believe her, she was a knight after all, she was upheld by honor to be just, truthful, lying for the sake of amusement didn't particularly fit their style. "We? The Knights?" Ash'eny felt his throat swelling, a ball of something seeming to block access to his voice, yet still he could breathe (thought he seemed to forget how important oxygen was at that moment). This was an odd idea, a thief working for the knights. Perhaps Ash'eny was naive to think that the Knights didn't have their own secrets, dark methods. Was it really possible for Ash'eny to not only land a job, but have one with meaning and still do what he was addicted to (that would be easier than breaking said addiction after all). "Clever hands... open eyes." It made sense. Ash'eny stalked around for hours at a time finding a suitable target, and this woman saw with her own Open Eyes that Ash'eny was fairly competent at his abilities. "If this offer is genuine (which I assume it is since I believe strongly in the honorable traits of knights in general), I will graciously accept. I will do whatever it is you ask of me. I suppose I'm in your debt regardless." Being in somebody's debt was not comforting typically, but the fact that Ash'eny was still breathing, and may for some time longer because of this woman, made him feel a good deal more comforted than he should have. But what happens now?

[Dusk]

Ash'eny: His words brought a slow-burning smile to the woman's lips, and her eyes shimmered and shifted once more to a molten gold. "I'm glad," she said as she gave his shoulder a light squeeze, and there was no trace of sarcasm in her voice - for some reason, she really was happy that he'd chosen as he did, and perhaps the warmth was because she knew he was choosing for the right reasons, not just to keep his neck out of a noose. She released him and dropped her gaze in order to dig through one of her beltpouches. She drew out a simple silver chain with a black pendant attached to the chain with a swirling silver design. Another smile flickered in one corner of her mouth as sunlight skittered across it, and then she met his gaze once more and offered it to him. "Wear this at all times - best to keep it under your shirt," she chuckled, "but if another company catches you at something unsavory, this will keep you in one piece until one of my people can arrange your release. And you can take that," she said, pointing to the coinpurse he was still clutching, "to Tenner Nigriso at the Housing Authority. He'll set you up with a room and a bed. Whether you use it is up to you, but it would be best if you could visit it every now and then in case we need a private place to speak," she said with another quirk of a smile. A moment later Tucesi's face grew deadly seriously, though, and she leveled him with an ice-blue gaze once more. "This is the most important part, though," she murmured. "No one, no one, must learn that you are working with us. You will be our eyes and ears in the streets, and what people do and say in front of you will be severely hindered if it's found out that you're reporting to me. We will do everything we can on our end to keep our association a secret, and you must keep quiet about it as well." The seriousness lasted another breath, and then a rueful smile - more annoyance than amusement - twisted at last. "And since your beggar friends saw me approach you, a bit of a ruse if necessary." She reached for her belt once more and drew a well-worn dagger, ugly and functional, the sort of thing any man on the streets might have, and held it out to him by the handle. "Cut me," she said, settling her shoulders back in preparation. "The cheek would be best, as I can make the best scene of it. And then run," she chuckled. At the sound, three more men in identical armor (though with only one silver sword pinned to their uniform) coalesced from the shadows. Two looked just as serious as Tucesi had a few moments before, but the third gave Ash a jaunty salute; all three waited behind their Stewart. "We'll give chase, and you'll escape, and we won't have to worry about anyone being the wiser."

[Dusk]

Sasin: Neither the woman he'd stolen from nor the shopkeeper seemed to notice Sasin's little theft. In fact, he seemed to have gotten away with it quite well. As he headed back through the bazaar, the crowd ebbed and flowed as it always did. He was bumped a few times throughout the course of it - once by a boy of no more than ten who blushed fiercely and stammered an apology, again by an elderly woman who scowled at him for having the audacity to be in his way, and lastly by a man who had been backing away from a vendor and wasn't paying attention to where he was going. The last man gave a laugh and apologized heartily, and in his exuberance he knocked into another person and had to turn away from Sasin to apologize to them. It wasn't until Sasin reached the stairway that led back up to the Third Tier that he realized that he was missing not only the purse he'd stolen, but his own coinpurse as well. One of the three must have taken it!

[Dusk]

Gareth OOCMake sure when you post to these threads you include what skills you are using. I am assuming that you are using only your Larceny. Have fun! The man he'd jostled stumbled a little, and glared at him - and then his eyes widened as Gareth turned, and he immediately checked for his money-pouch. "Hey, stop!" he yelled, pointing at the back of Gareth's hooded head. "Thief!" His screams drew the attention of several bystanders, who looked quite quickly at the man wearing a full-length hooded cloak in the crowded bazaar in summer. Moments later, two of the Knights who were stationed to the bazaar began shoving through the crowd in pursuit.

[Nyahna Sasin]

He had been, it appeared, a little bit too cheerful. The crowd had been rather thick, and he hadn't gotten a chance to check his ill found gains. It was only when he reached the stairs that he had a chance to see how much he had gotten.

It appeared the gods had been unfavorable to him today. Or maybe it was just whatever god of luck there was. He cursed softly as his fingers met only the cut string that had once held his coinpurse. He didn't even need to check to know that his prize too was gone. Slipped from his pocket. He had to admit, who ever they were, they were good.

He sighed. Not much chance of finding them now. Furthermore, the longer he spent in these clothes, the more chance of getting revealed.

He had two options. Go back, try to find the thief, and likely fail. Or, he could go back to his room in the Travelers row, change, and try to recuperate losses later.

Choosing the second option, he began walking down the stairs, scowling inwardly.

Still, at least he knew what to say next time he was noticed. Perhaps the day hadn't been a complete failure.

[Ash'eny]

Ash'eny was convinced, the smile on her face, the tone of her voice, the shine in her eyes. Ash'eny was convinced. He was about to speak, say something, he couldn't remember what it was, but the sight of the pendant, now his pendant, forced him speechless. It was, without a doubt, the most beautiful piece of art he had ever owned. Even most jewelry by the few rich folks he watched didn't compare. His hands slowly reached up for the pendant. Her voice was faint, seemed so distance, echoing faintly in his head rather than flowing from his lips. He understood everything, or at least what he was told at that moment. The pendant, his safety, but also a sign that he was to continue his ways. Obviously it was for the Syliran Knights now, for - Ash'eny dared to assume - the people of Syliras themselves. But there was also the knife she gave him, the instruction to cut her, and the arrival of the other knights (as well as their plan and contribution to the whole ordeal). He placed the pendant around his neck, and like it was suggested, he slid it underneath his shirt, his thief's vest keeping his snug against his chest. Ash'eny had no intention of ever parting with the necklace. After feeling it against his chest long enough to ensure it was there, he took the knife. This was the difficult part. In his past, Ash'eny had a good deal of violence, his life was practically dominated by it. But an innocent person, that was never easy. "I wish we could avoid this, but I can't ignore logic." Ash'eny spoke confidently, but his action was timid, he reached up and slowly (to make sure he didn't actually injure the woman) ran the blade of the knife across her cheek. Ash'eny himself winced, as if he felt the knife split the layers of his skin as well. Perhaps that knife was just guilt, but he would recover. He always did. As soon as he saw the red liquid, he glanced at the men behind her, nodded, turned and ran. And ran. And ran. Ash'eny hadn't run this hard in a long time. It wasn't since he was chased down in Sunberth as a child, that same day he lost his finger to a madman, but now he wasn't running in fear. Ash'eny's legs were pumping with adrenaline, fueled by joy, a new feeling of truly being alive. Ash'eny realized that out of this whole situation that he gained more things than he could count on his nine fingers. He found a reason to forgive himself, he obtained a beautiful piece of jewelry that doubled as protection, a few friends that would not betray him but could not frivolously converse with him, a pouch of coins, soon to have an actual home, a way to do genuine good in the city of Syliras, and confidence. Ash'eny did not bother to look behind him, not once, as he ran through the streets of Syliras, dodging through people, weaving the best he could through thick crowds, running like he always had, like a criminal. Ash'eny supposed he would always seem to be a criminal, but at least he would truly know himself. That was pleasing to think about. Ash'eny was pleased with himself.