Completed Along Came a Spider

[Vladislov]

516.Summer.40
Bell 1

“Piece of shyke!”

A huge hand came crashing down and not only turned the head of the youth but sent him spiraling into the corner of the wagon. Several bags of dried food fell on top of the male’s small frame. He knew better than to get up since this wasn’t his first time being tossed around. His frail arms came together and crossed beneath his tattered black cloak. He was anticipating more abuse and made sure to pull a bad of dried food into his shield as well. Sure as Leth chases his lover, a booted toe came behind a quick step and crashed into the young man’s midsection. The ploy of absorbing a shot like that took more than just padding, however, so the point of impact caused a garbled cry of pain to ring from the lad’s mouth. This was the key to ending the torment and it wasn’t an entire lie since getting thrown around and kicked did hurt even if one has grown accustomed to such things. The chime of agony from the crumpled heap in the corner brought a sneer of satisfaction and a few droplets of saliva to the lips of the wagon’s master. In truth, he was master of the young man at this point but only as a means to an end and one the brute didn’t even realize.

That was the way of nature from the eyes of a spider. Some people call it fate but it was just death and life playing games with everything caught in between. Powerful creatures think they are untouchable as they prowl the world feeding, breeding and wreaking havoc on those deemed small or weak. So the small learn to take advantage of tight spaces and the weak learn the immense value of timing. Then one day, a powerful creature decides to take a nap and wakes to find itself immobilized by some kind of toxin as a tiny thing feeds up it. The venom is so strong that it breaks down the monstrous beast but at a rate slow enough that the one might being gets to watch the small and weak spawn from its corpse. Like all new life, the young devour their host leaving nothing but the white, hollow shell of something that was once feared but is now no more.

“Five lousy coins! Not even gold!!!” The harsh whisper of the raspy voice flew down to the floor accompanied by a light rain of spittle. A sharp intake of breath announced to the unlucky charge that his master was rearing back his leg for another blow so the young man prepared accordingly. When it never came, he peering up with his black eyes having kept them shut as part of his ruse. His master; his owner was looking rather drunk and the action of swinging his tree
trunk of a leg backwards had disturbed something in his guts.

The black eyes watched for a moment as sense was gathered by his physical superior who bent down about halfway to the floor. Massive fingers like sausages curled around the bundle of silky cloth near the chest of the frail young man. He was hoisted up as if weightless, his body jostling form the whiplash that resulted from the action’s speed. Once again, the large angry mouth dripped with saliva as the dim-witted mind imagined what greater treasures his new pet would bring if he were to better understand the situation. “Go out again!” The bearded human barked. He was too busy trying to intimidate the creature in his grasp to realize that the young man’s left hand had slid out of its sleeve. “That gypsy bitch has tons of jewels! All I’m asking-“

Is to have your wallet stolen…again The young man thought as his fingers laced stealthily through the soft cord of the big man’s coin purse. He removed the object without any issue from the thick leather belt making sure to cup the weight of it into his palm to prevent clanking of the coins.

“-Is for you to bring me a handful!” The human shoved the young man back into the rubble gathered in the corner of the covered wagon. He then stomped over to his makeshift table and the affixed stool beneath it. A giant, the human squatted down and returned his attention back to the corked flask in front of him. Without looking up and in a very plain tone, he spoke. “Come home empty handed and I’ll break your legs.”

The young man slowly gathered himself into a crouch. His cloak flitted around him hiding the thin muscle and dried skin. His head was down and the white hair fell all around his face hiding the contempt and rage within his face but more than that it concealed the expression of victory. Agile fingers made sure the newly acquired coin purse found its way to a pocket in his pants. Then, as part of the show, the figure stood but not to his full height. The young face kept his chin down so that he seemed defeated, slumped his shoulders and allowed his back and legs to sag. It was uncomfortable but necessary so that his mark would remain unaware to the beast within his charge.

Long arms reached down to the ground with clawed hands and he made quick work of putting away the things that had fallen. The effort to tidy up his master’s mess had gone unnoticed but that was fine. Once he was finished, the body returned to its pitiful stance and a shaky voice pushed itself through scared lips. “Yes, Inar. Vlad do as Inar tell.”

Word Count946

[Vladislov]

Vlad slipped out of the caravan that had been his home for the past few weeks. The shitty wagon with cheap sides did little to hide the abuse he suffered at the hands of his ‘master’ from the other travelers. The problem wasn’t knowledge of a dysfunctional partnership. The problem was that Vlad’s race wasn’t exactly a welcome addition and there were some who simply wanted him gone. The sly youth had found a way to impress upon his owner how useful the pale-skinned lad could be. It didn’t take much. Some poor shmuck was going to be in for a surprise when he tried to purchase some masterfully crafted item in Karjin only to discover his weighty coin purse missing. That did it, that set up the bond and despite the temporary shortcoming for the frail Symenestra, he would soon have his reward.

Vlad stepped out of his slippers and kicked them behind the wheel. His dark eyes scanned around the small campsite at the other wagons and a few tents that had been pitched. No one was awake or if they were up at this ungodly hour they were hidden within their own spaces. The Symenestra moved slowly at first beginning a circle of observation. He needed to be silent. Vladislov picked up his left foot and looked down where he wanted to step. Then as he placed weight upon his foot, he made sure to do so in stages starting with his heel and then rolling it until the balls of his foot rested comfortably on the cool ground. The thief repeated the process over and over again. Though it was highly effective, the method was painfully slow. This didn’t bother Vladislov. He knew that each time he practiced these things he would simply improve his craft and further his goals.

The art of stalking was time consuming but worth it. Vlad listened in as several people discussed their purchases from the comfort of their sleeping mats. He made note of some of the smaller items in their possession for future use them moved along keeping to the soft creep as before. The pale deviant lingered several wagons down and listened for the sounds of sleep; breathing, shuffling blankets or the occasional mumble. He heard none. This was going to be the place. With onyx orbs, he scanned the campsite once, twice and then a third time before peeling open the door. He took one more glance to make sure he was not being watched only he made sure to cast his gaze through the veil of his long white hair. Certain he was not followed or discovered, the slave made not a sound as he entered the wagon and closed the door behind him.

Word Count1404

[Vladislov]

Once inside, the Symenestra had no idea what he was looking for since he did not know the people around him as well as a good thief should. There are always valuables to be found even in a world where so many had so little. The trick was to get a feel for the individual who resides in the space then use that persona to find a place that makes you feel safe. Vlad took a few ticks to study the layout. A lifetime of living in a cavernous city gave him an uncanny ability to see in the dark. The converse of that was that bright lights often blinded him.

The space in front of the thief unfolded like a night scented orchid bathed in the light of Leth. The common area near the door was rather unremarkable. A bench near a window on the right side sat adjacent to a small round table upon which sat a tiny pad of paper. There was no sign of any writing utensil about so Vlad made a note to check the tablet for information about its owner. Further in from this sat a stack of buckets which looked like they could be used for laundry or dishes; maybe even a privy if need be but the smell of the rolling abode wasn’t horrendous so that didn’t seem likely. Across from these buckets was a small shelf unit with three cubbies, each of which held a small woven basket. The eyebrows of the Symenestra danced a bit in anticipation of rummaging through those containers. The sleeping area was past all of these things, separated by a set of floor length curtains. For a moment, Vlad wondered if someone was inside sleeping and began to debate if he should investigate.

The debate was soon over. He had a chance to pilfer what was lying around on this side of the curtain. If he found nothing then the thief would weigh the pros and cons of searching the back half of the wagon. Vlad watched the placement of his bare feet so as not to kick something like a toy or step on a blanket which would pull over a stack of items in a crash. Several silent steps led him to the small journal which he quickly hoisted and opened. After scanning several pages of chicken scratch, the black-eyed young man tucked the tablet into his pants pocket. While he didn’t discover anything interesting, he knew it contained enough private thoughts that the owner would be angry when he saw it on someone else’s window sill.

Word Count1837

[Vladislov]

Vladislov gazed around and began to recognize the need for a clock. While he felt comfortable in his present circumstance, there was always the possibility of something going wrong so he endeavored to move a little bit quicker. With dark eyes affixed on the floor, he watched every step as he made his way to the small shelf unit on the balls of his feet. Once there he sunk down slowly allowing his cloak to float down and collect around him. The thief shrank down into a small crouch where his bent knees almost touched his chin. Long fingers reached out and splayed like ghosts towards the first basket; the one closest to the ground. He curled the clawed tips around the tiny woven handle and lifted up slightly. The heft required triggered something in his brain and the Symenestra slid his other hand forth and grabbed the bottom to help lift and slide the container from its shelf.

Slowly, he pulled the wicker basket free and set it on his cloak, his hair falling around his face as his head dropped down to study the contents. The weight was caused by a small assortment of painted rocks. The right eyebrow of the pale-skinned youth rose in agitation. Further inspection revealed a strange looking bracelet but as he lifted it to his eyes, he found it to be some kind of wood or reed construction; worthless. He placed it back in exactly the same place he had found it. A slight shift of the rocks caused something to twinkle. Black nails moved slowly to separate the painted hunks of stone. As each one was moved aside, more of the item was exposed. The black eyes grew wide with a hunger that Vlad had not experienced in some time. With his index and thumb nail, he slowly and silently drew out the item; a steel key with several teeth of varied height and breadth. Certainly this would warrant a trip into the back room.

The prowler folded his prize into the palm of his hand and gently but quickly put the rocks back where they were within the basket and then used both hands to replace the woven container back in its place. He slid the key into his pocket with the book then checked the other two baskets with a half-hearted interest. There was no way the key and lock would be so close. Why would anyone hide the key in the first place if that was the case? After a chime of sorting through trinkets and useless memorabilia, Vlad rose being cautious to maintain his balance after being in a crouch for so long. His legs achedfor a few moments and then tingled as the blood flow returned to normal. A slow pivot pointed him to the curtains and the back half of the caravan. The thief had no idea to know if someone was asleep within or not. The haunting reality was that the key in his pocket didn’t give him a choice…he had to know what it unlocked.

Word Count2348

[Vladislov]

Vladislov crept forward very slowly. His eyes were on the floor trying to make certain that he did not bump into anything. A small window to his right shed a ghostly pale radiance that was dimmed by layers of dirt and grime caked upon the glass. This strange aura touched everything except the inky black f the thief’s cloak. His hands were calm but positioned a bit away from his body to create balance. Slow motions required a great deal of control since emphasis was being placed on every tiny snippet of detail. The Symenestra’s feet were moving forth which caused the cloak to rustle and billow. Fabric is fabric; if it were to get caught on something the back and forth sway could easily knock over an item and cause a stir. These are the types of things that one must think about while sneaking about the lodgings of strangers.

Suddenly and without warning, the curtain in front of him slid open along the wooden dowel from which it hung. Black eyes snapped open as wide as Vlad had ever remembered. He was staring right in the face of a half asleep woman who was rubbing her eyes.

Panic.

Fear.

Vlad’s skin tightened as chills shocked his body. His mind raced through a thousand and one terrible ideas and then, as if by some magical guide, his long fingers reached out and grasped the woman by her hair. The pale digits and black claws curled the thick, tangled black locks around his knuckles. The texture was firm but also soft; almost ticklish by nature. The instant, he had a firm hold, her eyes popped open and she began to reach for the grip by which she was bound. The larger thief, though frail by nature, was not weak. He was not a pinnacle of strength but when he yanked the woman’s head forward and smashed her face into the corner of her cabinet there was enough force behind it to render her unconscious.

The shocked Symenestra slowly lifted her face away from the wood. There was a very subtle but unmistakable sucking sound as the skin peeled back as if it longed to stay attached to the hardwood of the storage unit. The woman’s face had split open through her eyebrow and down the center of her cheek. Blood was dripping and it suddenly dawned on Vladislov that if he simply dropped her, it would not look like an accident. So, he went to work.

He stepped off to the side being careful not to get into her pooling droplets but he never let go over her hair. Once the thief was in position, he took hold of the woman’s robe and lifted her face back to the point of impact. Slowly, he let gravity slide her down along the fashioned corner for nearly two feet until her feet began to slip backwards. At this point, he twisted her body so that she would land on her shoulder with her face hanging down until her chin touched her chest. This created a straight line down her face to her shirt so the blood that still flowed from the wound connected to the small pool that had formed in the moments that followed the attack.

Vlad stood up and studied the scene for a moment. There was more to be done. He took the dividing curtain and wrapped the very tip over her foot and hooked it on her big toe. This was the culprit behind the entire accident; or rather, it would be blamed. He was still unsure. Most people, even half-awake would manage to catch themselves before taking such a brutal injury. He stared at her empty hand just sitting lifelessly along her side. That was the sellpoint. He took a moment to survey the area across from them where he was able to notice a few stashed pots and pans. Surey there would be a mug or cup in the vicinity. Vlad had no way to get over to that side without jumping or risking disturbing his victim’s carefully place position. The brain is funny sometimes.

[Vladislov]

The Symenestra slipped his cloak off of his shoulders collecting it from the bottom as it relaxed from his body. Fully gathered, he set it behind the curtain so it wouldn’t be near the blood. Then the thief climbed up the wall and across the ceiling. His hands, feet and forearms were all that was needed. The villain moved with a fluid grace alternating sides and appendages to create a rhythm that might appear almost like dancing. He crawled along the wood paneling that made up the top of the caravan until he was in the middle of the area he would classify as the kitchen. With a trace thought, he released the hold that his feet had given which allowed his body to swing down so that he was hanging by his hands and forearms. Vlad dangled as low as he could and used his abdominal muscles to gradually slow the back and forth motion. When he was all but still, he dropped to the floor. His feet slipped upon contact but the Symenestra used his long arms to balance his body by extending them outwards. A few half flapping motions later found him with sure footing and the man stood erect; solid.

The first cupboard he opened had nothing of use or value so he moved on to the next. Within this cabinet was something most peculiar. Behind a small bottle of alcohol, whiskey judging by the smell, was an ornamental box that glittered in the faint light. His abysmal orbs peered at it for ticks upon ticks until he decided to take it. Claws gripped the whiskey and set it on the counter. Then he took the box and set it upon his palm. He opened the frame which appeared to be made of folded paper. The velvet lining was soft and purple and matched the cloth draped over whatever was inside. The thief used the tip of his index claw to move the tiny blanket aside. Beneath was a copper ring that was intricately emblazoned with some kind of story displayed as artwork and craftsmanship. While beautiful, it was not worth much but Vlad guessed it had sentimental value. He pocketed the ring and returned the box then grabbed a small cup. He poured whiskey into it and then recorked and replaced the bottle.

Vlad closed the cabinet and walked quietly to where the woman lay. He knelt down and dabbed his fingertip into the whiskey then rubbed it on her lips. He did this three times then spilled the rest across the kitchen and her right hand. He put the glass on the floor before stepping around her and making his way to his cloak. The woman moaned and Vlad cringed. He still hadn’t gotten to check the back but a second groan was more than enough cause to flee.

The Symenestra cloaked himself and slipped to the window across from him. It was big enough to squeeze through. With a quick and nimble hop, the thief was to the small glass square. He lifted the sill all the way up then jumped and hooked his hands into the ceiling. He swung his legs back and then curled them up and plunged himself outside and into the darkness. He landed, rose and turned to face the wagon. He used his claws to close the window all but the tiniest bit then used his black cloak and soft, padded feet to slip away into the night. He was back in his master’s caravan just in time to hear the agonizing screams of the woman whose face had been torn asunder. Vlad crawled into his cubby, a cleared out cupboard with some pillows and a blanket and went to sleep…ever so subtle, his lips turned at the corners into a smile.

[Sayana]

Don't forget to edit/delete your grade request. If there's anything I may have missed, please PM me and I'll be happy to look into it.

 

Vladislov

Skills

• Endurance: 1
• Brawling: 1
• Observation: 5
• Subterfuge: 3
• Larceny: 3
• Acting: 1
• Stealth: 4
• Scouting: 1
• Intelligence: 1
• Acrobatics: 3

Lores

• Brawling: Utilizing objects as protective padding
• Acting: Portraying a defeated and slumped stance
• Stealth: Heel to toe footsteps
• Intelligence: Basic assessment of objects in a room and what they say about the inhabitant
• Larceny: Finding a key can be more valuable than cheap trinkets
• Larceny: Returning unused items exactly to their place
• Subterfuge: Creating a scene that looks like an accident

Miscellaneous

• Simple book (journal)
• Metal key
• Copper ring

(Choose 1 to keep, the other 2 go to your master as part of your job thread)

The coins that were stolen from your master will be accounted for as part of your earnings as a thief. I'm assuming this is a job thread for you, if not, PM me and I will award you the stolen coins.

Comments: I loved the detail and intricacies you included while writing this thread. It's very clear that Vlad has a lot more on his mind and is not just a typical slave.

However, there were a couple of cases where you were playing above your skill level. Vlad currently has no skill in stealth and he was incredibly silent during this escapade. I'm being a bit generous by giving you points for this thread, but please be more careful of his skill level in future threads.

His fast, silent, and effective subduing of the woman by smashing her face was much beyond his skill. He has no combat skills and it was done almost flawlessly despite his panicked situation. Hence I did not award any combat skills for that action.

Your Grader,

Sayana

Boxcode design: Firenze