Why you thieving little gyt.... (Doctor and Murdoch)

[Doctor Percival Mertyl]

50th Spring 510

Doctor Mertyl gave the key a good turn in the lock. He could not believe it, but theives and the ne'er do wells would often try to steal from his small surgery. The lowest of the low, he thought " to steal from a medical man who only wished to help people." the Doctor sighed and placed the brass key in his pocket.

"Good evening Doctor Mertyl" said the young man as he whisked past in a hurry. The Doctor raised his hand in a salute, "Evening Tole" he said. Though the Doctor had numerous patients he could remember them all by name.

He drew his coat close and pulled up his collar. He checked his bag was by his side and made his way into the cold and now emptying streets.

He thought to himself about the vagaries of the Capiacus root and whether it may yet show itself to have any medicinal value. He continued his walk home, quickening in step as he looked forward to his evening meal with his wife Lymia and a nice roaring fire. Though it was a pleasant evening there was a certain chill in the air and a nice fire was just what the Doctor ordered.

The Doctor smiled as he walked, taking a great delight in watching the inhabitants of the castle to and fro about their business. He smiled at the couple who were arm in arm, and their son who he had known since birth.

He took a deep breath of the fine evening's air, and thanked his lucky blessings he was alive and well on a day like this.

The Doctor took many twists and turns. He was about halfway home when his smile dropped, had he forgotten to put the candle out when he left. He trudged on, yet it continued to nag him. He was sure he had left his candle on. He returned to the surgery.

He turned the brass key in the lock and made his way into the surgery. he carefully closed the door behind him and made his way into the back room. The candle was there burning brightly and threatening to float off the desk into his pile o papers underneath. Years of research and years of study could have been down the drain in a second. He licked his fingers and extinguished the flame with a sizzle.

[Murdoch]

50th Day of Spring, 510 AV

Murdoch had spent the first week after Nel left as drunk as he could get himself. Well, Nel didn't leave so much as he tossed her out on her ass, but that was what had to happen. And not for some stupidly vague emotionally vulnerable horseshyke reason - but to keep her from getting tortured and then burned alive.

He should have felt noble or something. Instead he just lay in his cold, empty bed and got more and more miserable. Stupid girl, coming in and making his life all bright. For what? So he could see how crappy it was now?

So he'd gotten drunk, and on really bad ale because he didn't want to spend the money on good ale. Only he'd had to drink a lot of it, which cost him the same and gave him a worse headache when he finally came off the binge.

So he sobered up, washed up, and decided that it was time to get back into the swing of things. Or, no, something bigger. Something better. No more picking pockets for coins - he was bored with that. Had been doing it for years, and what did that get him?

Looting, that was the next step. And he remembered that healer who'd patched him up, weirdo Ethaefel or whatever, and all his shiny, expensive medical supplies. Yes, that was where the money lay. Herbs and medicines, and there was sure to be gold on hand.

So he stalked through town, deciding which place would be best hit. Not the big apothecary shop, no, too visible. Something smaller. And then he found Dr. Mertyl - the elderly, gentle, lovable doctor, everyone's friend. Friendly, he thought with a roll of his eyes. Too frail to properly fight back if it comes to that.

That night he packed his lockpicks and dressed in his normal attire - chocolate browns and simple boots, a dagger at his hip and another hidden somewhere on his person. No use dressing the part of a thief, that would only draw attention. And so he parked himself about halfway down the block from the doctor's office and slowly crunched his way through an apple, watching as the old man locked up and made his way home. Counted out five chimes just to be sure he wasn't coming back, and once the street was clear he sauntered casually up to the door, the lockpicks stuffed up his sleeve.

The trick to picking a lock on an open street was to act as if it wasn't a set of picks, but a key. So to anyone who might have rounded the corner down the street, it would have just looked like someone locking up for the night - but no one did, and he knew he had another half-bell before the guards patrolled this particular quiet street.

It took him a little longer than he'd have liked, but this was a pin-and-tumbler lock and a little more finicky. Then again, that likely meant there was more expensive wares inside. Both of the needle-thin picks were inserted, and he careful shifted them until the hooks on the ends clicked the pins onto the sheer line and the his steady pressure turned the lock. Right there, he chuckled to himself, withdrawing the picks and shoving them back up his sleeve as he pushed open the door and relocked it behind him.

There was a candle still burning, which only made it easier to find what he was looking for. He was in the process of searching the place for a money box when he heard a key being inserted into the lock and froze. Just a moment, and then he darted into the darkest corner of the room and pulled the collar of his shirt up to cover most of his face. In the shadows, it made him nearly invisible - and the man didn't seem to be looking for anyone else to be there.

He watched him walk over, and grinned when Mertyl reached to snuff out the candle.

There was no warning beyond the brush of air as Murdoch slid out of the corner, his razor-sharp little dagger out, and grabbed the old man by the shoulder, pressing the blade to his throat.

"Where's the money?" he hissed into his ear.

[Doctor Percival Mertyl]

The Doctor stood frozen to the spot. His mouth opened to gasp a word then shut again. Who was this foul smelling thief?

What did he want?

Was this chap going to snot him when he realised there was no money on the premises?

Would he see his wife again?

Would he be breathing tomorrow?

What could he say to the assailant to make him let go?

What could he give him?

All these questions raced through the Doctors mind quicker than a crap in Hai.
What good was thinking? Could he think his way out of this problem? Maybe, if he could wriggle slightly, pull out of the hold and get out of the door...

No the door was shut, by the time he had pulled the latch and got it open his assailant would be upon him. Perhaps with a knife in his neck. He would have to disable his assailant.

If he could get to the bench on the other side of the room, the bottle of isachiamic acid, which he had used this morning for treating Mrs. Swale's odorous foot problem might suffice.

If he could grab the bottle and put it in the thiefs face...No that would disfigure the chap but what if the Doctor did not make it. Even then the altruistic Doctor considering the effect of his action on another before himself.

He briefly wriggled slightly, testing the water but the Doctor soon realised the superior strength of his assailant would snap him in four, let alone two.

He desperately thought of a plan as the thieves gripped tightened. Clemency was his only hope without gold.

"[b]Pleeesase"[/b] pleaded the Doctor "I have no money...."

[Murdoch]

When the man started wriggling, Doc pressed the wicked little dagger just a hair's-breadth closer and let the skin part a tiny bit.

"The more blood I get on my hands the more likely I am to cut you deeper than I mean to," he growled lowly. "Now rule number one is they always say there's no money. And they're always lying. So tell me where the money is and you get away with something no worse than you would if you were clumsy shaving."

[Doctor Percival Mertyl]

The Doctor winced as the small dagger pieced his skin.

"I've told you" pleaded the Doctor. "There is no money here, this is just a small surgery, i'm not a bank man" The doctor knew he was not lying, there was simply no money on the premises whatsoever. his orders were not due in for another week and the small amount of pocket change he carried had gone that morning on his lunch.

"Take what you want, search the place but please don't hurt me. I just want to get home...I have kids you know." winced the Doctor.

The Doctor ceased to struggle. He was going to struggle to break the hold the thief had on him. He could not produce any money, maybe the thief would be put off if he gave him some herbs or medicine. Maybe some of that monkshood petal would be just the ticket.

[Murdoch]

"You heal people and they don't pay you? What kind of shyke business you runnin' here?" he growled, frustration clear in his voice.

Well. The old man sounded scared enough not to lie. Doc didn't really want to kill him, but he didn't particularly care if he had to.

He gave another little growl, and leaned back a little to transfer the blade from the front of the man's throat to the side of it - then grabbed him by the hair and kicked him in the back of the knees, forcing him to kneel though he kept a firm grip on his hair to hold him upright.

The bloody blade was swiftly moved from the man's throat to his eyeball, close enough to see it in the dark but too close to focus on. His own blood was warm where Doc's knuckles rested against his cheek.

"Find me something of value here, old man, or you're worth nothin' to me," he hissed, glancing around the room - but he was starting to get the distinct feeling that this was a bust, and he'd probably be better off just knocking the guy out and heading home. Stupid petching people not having any money. Should have knocked over the inventor's workshop.

[Doctor Percival Mertyl]

The Doctor fell to his knees, He fell forward slightly narrowly avoiding a significant laceration and serious limitation to occular function.

His knees hit the floor and the Doctor pushed out his hands. He winced in pain as his wrist buckled.

"I have sustained a significant contusion to my knee, and perhaps a dorsal fracture of the hammate and overextension of the carpal ligament" pondered the Doctor to himself. "Nothing too serious at present, but this could soon turn extremely serious if he stabs me in the face," he thought.

He pointed to some weighing scales over on the bench. "Erm they are worth quite abit," he said. "In the right circles of course."

He drew a sharp intake of breath, "I have herbs that can make you feel all types of ways if you want, some of those might be worth quite abit too, do you like herbs!?"

[Murdoch]

"Shyke," he breathed.

This was supposed to be an easy job. Go in, get the money, get out. Of course it all had to go sideways. If this were Sunberth, he'd just slit the old man's throat and be gone - but this was Syliras, and the last petching thing he needed was a brace of Knights scouring the city for him.

"I'm not some petching junkie," he growled, something vicious in his voice that was never there in polite company. Truth be told, most people who knew him in this town wouldn't have believed it of him, and he liked it that way.

What to do, what to do...

"Get down on the ground," he hissed, "face down. What a petching waste," he said, pulling the knife away from the old man's face and shoving him to the floor. "Keep your eyes closed and you'll get out of this in time to get home for dinner."

[Doctor Percival Mertyl]

The Doctor fell forward, turning slightly as he did so looking through squinted eyes. In the dim light of the room it was difficult for the Doctor to make out his assailants face. He tried to make out what he could remember every possible detail. The Doctor was hoping someone caught this menace before he did some real damage and if the Doctor could assist with information he would be more than willing to do so. Although the Doctor was a kindly soul he believed everybody had their place, and a thief's place was locked away far from him.

Percival was going to get out of this, and ensure this thief was dealt with appropriate authority.

The Doctor shut his eyes and breathing heavily kept his face to the floor.

[Murdoch]

There was almost no light in the room since the old man had snuffed the candle, and he wouldn't see much of anything besides the shape of a man.

"Petching useless," he growled under his breath. No use taking any of the property - with the owner alerted, there was no way he'd be able to sell it without being caught. This wasn't Sunberth, with reputable fences who didn't care where the property came from.

Better to cut his losses. "Stay where you are," he hissed. Useless, that's what this whole night was. He backed slowly away on almost silent feet, and then bolted for the door and out into the night.

OOC NoteIf you want to keep playing this and have the Doctor go to the Knights, just send Jen a PM and let her know this thread needs to be modded from here on out. Doc's gonna get in trouble..... *giggles*