Solo Troublesome Ring

[Brandon Blackwing]

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The 36th of Summer – Dawnrest

The hooded figure strode through the streets, his pace fast but silent, the leather soles of his boots complementing the man’s quiet way of walking, the sounds produced were near to none, though there were some that could be heard. The ruffle of his cloak, the soft creaking of his newly bought and not yet supple leather outfit, his own breathing and very softly the beating of his own heart… Small things, but they sounded loud to the figure’s keen ears, though the sound of his heart working could only be heard due to the silence that cloaked the streets. Still, it was quite certain that most people would not notice the nearly silent signs that someone was marching through the sleeping city. The black of his outfit camouflaged him well in the shadows and not even Leth’s light seemed to be able to make the man visible. Of course, that was not true, the sneak was just quite adept at staying within the shadows, they were his friends, his shelter.

The only thing about the man that was not black was the mask he wore, which was white and featureless, only two eye-shaped holes had been made so the wearer could see. One of which was adorned with black swirls and curls, and a long black mark that seemed to depict a tear rolling from that eye, gently caressing the cheek. Pale it was indeed, and yet it did not stand out in the darkness, the hood that the man wore covered the upper half of the face, efficiently concealing the white forehead of the mask, the shadow the hood cast hiding the rest. By doing this, the man had successfully erased his identity, swallowed up by the darkness that embraced all. The man was anonymous, he was incognito, there was no way he could be identified by someone else than himself and his employer, for he had just bought this disguise from that man.

Under the mask, Brandon Of The Black Wings had taken shelter, heading towards his goal with focused senses and swift pace. Despite the mask having a lack of openings other than the eyes, the bat had no trouble breathing, however, his face was sweating, the heat of wearing the object was annoying, though it did not hinder him, he just had to get used to it. He had to admit that wearing the mask did make him feel safe, the rest of his disguise did as well. There had been plenty of times where he had almost been discovered breaking and entering, unable to complete his job unless he wanted to risk having his face being known by the Shinya or his victim. Now though, he did not really have to worry about that, his face was covered and by day he would wear a different set of clothes, no recognition possible, even should he be spotted.

His target on his first assignment was a vendor of jewelry that sold his wares at the Azure Market, his mission was to retrieve a ring. While the bat usually would have been really psyched about a job such as this one, a job with a lot of risk, trespassing in a house that was probably secured and protected by one or other system. Right now though, the thief was not that excited. The reason why was really obvious: he would be helping a man he hated, a man that had control of him, who could end Engghaen’s life with a word if he did not as asked. Not to mention that he wouldn’t get paid for this. Of course, he could always take some money with from the vendor, or some jewelry… still, there was something about it he was not happy with. He did not feel like himself, he was kept on a leash, observed and evaluated. His score would determine whether his … sister –Enggy was a sister to him, but calling her that did not feel entirely right- would determine Enggy’s survival. There was a certain pressure, a burden weighing down on his shoulders, a fear. He was forced to do this job, he was Kriegsfelt’s servant- no, servants were paid, he wasn’t- he was a slave. Brandon felt that he should get to choose his targets, that he should be allowed to turn a job offer down, but he wasn’t. He did not choose, he did not act for himself. He did not receive anything in return. He didn’t even feel like himself right now.

The mask, the clothes… it was a good idea to hide his identity better, indeed, but these too were forced upon him. He had no choice at all, he was not allowed to have an opinion, he was but a pawn in Kriegsfelt game, expendable. Just like Dimitri had been. He was a nobody, he never had been much to begin with, but right now he felt as if he was of no importance, of no value, he was a speck of dust on the surface of Mizahar, one of the many, one that could not be identified, one without identity, a nobody. Heh, that is actually quite depressing… the bat sighed But it is reality… my reality.

Funny, he had introduced himself to Sal Mander as Djas when that man had recognized him as a thief and had asked for his name, wanting to hire him for a job he found important. Djas… Brandon had but little knowledge of the Ancient Tongue, been taught by Gallan, who had known not very much of it either, but the bat knew what it meant. Djas; I, oneself… It meant he was himself, he had introduced himself as being Himself, it had become his thief name later on, having used it a couple more times. Djas, what a joke! Right now he wasn’t himself at all, he was but a puppet, a faceless being without identity. He was the exact opposite of who he had been when he had introduced himself as Djas. Indeed, right now he was nor Brandon Of The Black Wings, nor Djas. He was neither Kelvic, human, animal or any other race that walked the land. He had no face, no gender, no race, no identity. Yes, he was Incognito, the faceless thief, a phantom that walked the streets of Lhavit. He was Incognito, a being that existed only when Solomon Kriegsefelt willed it, a being that was without his own will, without identity, without a true existence.

x

credit goes to Euthisa

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

However depressing it may seem, and it was a bit in fact, the man hiding under the mask was still Brandon, and even though he had indeed no identity while wearing his disguise, Incognito still had Brandon’s character and habits. So even while he still wasn’t as excited as he should have been, he was still a bit thrilled, he could not help it, stealing was his passion and usually managed to cheer him up. Like it did now, and there was no place for unnecessary worry and other problems, Kriegsfelt and identity crises. It was just him and his target, and annoying burdens like patrolling Shinya, the rest did not exist.

Kriegsfelt or no, he could still do what he loved doing, though he’d have to adapt to Mr. Black’s attitude, and annoying habit of summoning the Kelvic when said Kelvic did not want to see the merchant’s face. And of course he’d have to fulfill each and any request Solomon Kriegsfelt wanted him to complete. It sucked, yes, but at least the man had not chosen to batnap him and demand his bodyguards to torture him for the rest of his short life as payback for all Brandon had done, like burning down one of his properties. Luckily, Kriegsfelt had probably figured that he’d need someone with Brandon’s skills sooner or later, why the bat did not know, but the bat knew he could have met a worse fate.

And needed he had been, only six days had passed since the bat had been summoned for the first time, tasked with the retrieval of Solomon’s favorite ring. And while the bruises and blue marks still covered his body and hurt when touched, the bat had had no choice but to do as asked, for else Engghaen would suffer the consequences. Brandon could only hope that she had no idea what danger lied in wait for her. But yeah, stealing the ring… On the way home, just chimes ago, Dragha had led him through the street the vendor of jewelry lived and had pointed him the place to be. Unfortunately, the Azure Market salesman was quite rich, and his residence was located in a street that was frequently patrolled by the Shinya, so the front door would not be the way in this time, but the backdoor would.

If the thief remembered correctly, the street parallel to the one he was walking on now was but a small alley, with a lot of shadows at night and a lot less Shinya too. That was where he’d go, sharply turning a corner twice, a chime of walking and there he was, right in front of the back of the house he needed to break into. It was indeed quite dark in the alley, and the Shinya patrol had just passed him when he’d entered it, so he did not have to worry about that for a while. With a sigh the thief crouched in front of the door and produced his lockpicks, hand reaching in his belt-pouch. Annoyingly, the gauntlets he wore hindered the efficiency of his fingers, so, frustrated the Kelvic put them off and laid both on the stones. “How am I supposed to work wearing these?” he muttered in complaint while considering cutting the tips of the fingers off, but decided against it. He could use a pair of gloves when it was cold… he’d have to buy some fingerless ones when he was done with this job. He sighed at the prospect and stuck the gloves under his belt.

Now he could work. First, the thief tried to get a feel of the lock by inserting his lockpick, the tip stroking all sides of the inside of the lock, telling Brandon exactly what he needed to know. It was a better lock than the ones he had picked before, there were more pins holding it in place, making it more complicated and much more of a drag to get open. Brandon redrew his tool and inserted another, his tension wrench that made up the second part of his gear to pick locks. It fitted snugly in the bottom of the lock, and the thief applied a little bit of torque, the pins keeping the lock from rotating however. No matter, the lockpick itself would take care of that. Once more the bat inserted his tool, pushing it as far as the furthest pin, which he found without much trouble. What did make some problems arise was pushing the pin back in its cylinder, which took longer than he had imagined it would, but eventually, he succeeded, the torque making sure the pin stayed where it was.

Still, there were six more pins, and while the next ones went in a lot smoother now he had regained the hang of it, some managed to frustrate him quite a bit. There were but two that had to resist, the torque failed him and whenever he stopped pushing the pins upwards with his lockpick, they slid back out again. The problem was that he had to adjust the tension applied on the lock with his wrench, all while the chance existed the other pins would fall back out again. Unfortunately, the last pin made that happen and Brandon cursed, whispering in frustration as he had to start all over again. Fortunately though, the rebelling pins of his previous attempt had stopped their struggle and cooperated, just like the rest, and before he knew he was done, the torque rotated the lock, as if a key had been inserted. A sigh of satisfaction escaped the bat’s lips, but the mask he wore displayed no emotion.

Slowly but steadily, the bat unlocked the door, making sure the lock would not retract with a loud click, but with a soft one instead. Then, the door could be opened, a hand turned the knob. The door was pushed open carefully and slowly as well, but its swing was halted by Brandon himself, who decided to take a peek inside through the small gap first. Maybe the jeweler had placed some traps.

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credit goes to Euthisa

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

The thief’s concern was unneeded, so it seemed, as there were no traps placed near the back door, his dark attuned eyes saw nothing that even looked slightly like one. Entering appeared to be safe enough, the door was pushed open so the bat could pass and Brandon closed it behind him once inside. It was quite dark in the house, and while Brandon was quite used to having but little light to work with and he did not need that much, even he had a bit of trouble discerning the objects scattered across the room he had just invaded.

A solution presented itself almost immediately though, as the Kelvic noticed a strip of light coming from the windows. If he’d just open the curtains, Leth’s light would help him. The decision was made instantly, and soon the pale moonlight flowed through the room, illuminating the chamber enough so Bran could see what he was doing. Instead of complete darkness, twilight now ruled, something that the thief appreciated. His eyes shot back and forth, scanning the room he was in quickly, searching for the place that the jewels would be stored. It wouldn’t be here though, seeing as this was a kitchen.

Onwards then, sneakily stalked the masked trespasser through an empty doorframe, which led him into a bigger room, which was in turn darker than the previous one. No matter though, the light emitted by Leth that still fell through the windows was quite enough to see. He did not need as much light to see as humans did, though he had noticed cats had an even better night-vision. Well, it wasn’t like he needed his eyes that much when in bat form, echolocation was quite a neat trick, sadly, it couldn’t be used when human. Imagine how easily he’d find his way through all but the darkest places, hindered by nothing, ‘seeing’ as clearly as if it was midday.

This room seemed to be the living room, there were some tables, chairs and even a sofa, not to mention the lot of closets and vases that were littered everywhere. Selling jewelry paid well, it appeared, there even clung some artwork to the walls here and there. Still, that was not the place to be, he needed to find something like a vault or so, something that was different than the rest, a heavily protected area. It shouldn’t be that hard to find, it was probably around here somewhere…

Truly it was indeed not that far away, while traversing further into the room, Brandon’s black orbs noticed a heavy-looking metal door, right next to the door that probably led to the hallway. A quick examination revealed it was made of steel, bolts keeping it together, looking quite durable and probably highly resistant to any and all attempts to open it by using brute force, Bran guessed. No matter, it was still a door and how sturdy it may be, it had one big weakness: the lock. Though, it might be quite a challenging lock, if it needed to protect something important…

A challenge huh? Might be fun. A flourish of a hand produced a lock pick and a tension wrench, the former was used to get the feel of the lock first, examine it a bit before he’d start, so he’d know what he was up against. Well, what he found out was quite disappointing really, it seemed to have just an ordinary lock, a weak one at that, only three pins. Hm, ridiculous! And that had to stop him? Don’t make him laugh, such a disgrace for all of lock-kind couldn’t even stop a thief with the worst skills ever seen! Yshul, was this a joke? Oh well then, best get to work.

While the bat worked on the lock, pushing the pins in one by one, in relatively quick succession, he felt as if the lock hadn’t been smeared for years, the gears inside rusted and budging only with great effort. That wasn’t all though, as soon as the last pin had been pushed back into its cylinder, and the bat tried to open the lock by using his tension wrench, something strange and rather disturbing happened. Rotating it became even harder and as soon as he reached a halfway point, the lock started interfering even more, ceasing its movement instantly and started turning to the other side instead, relocking itself. Surprised, Brandon blinked twice rapidly and retracted his wrench from the keyhole, fearing it might break if he let it in. A sharp click sounded and when Brandon inserted his lock pick again, the pins had reclaimed their original positions.

Well, this was something new, a lock that refused to be opened… wait, could it be that this was one of those …. Animated locks? He had heard of those, locks that locked themselves automatically or that only opened when they were opened with a key… Hm, this was annoying situation, if he’d have to find the key, he’d have to search and that would take a while. No, maybe he should just try to imitate a key… What he did with by picking a lock was in fact cheating, pushing the pegs of the lock up one by one and then open it. A key, however, pushed them into their cylinders in very quick succession, and then turned the lock. The pins could not fall down due to the key being inserted, whereas with lock picking they could. But, he had a way to do pretty much the same.

It was a technique that he had learned quite a while ago, but rarely used because it did not always work, especially not when it was a complicated lock. Here, it might just do the trick, since it was but a simple locking system, only fortified by animation, but a simple lock nonetheless. Okay then, it was worth a shot. Once again the thief positioned his wrench at the bottom of the animated lock, applied a bit of torque, and penetrated the keyhole with his lock pick, pushing it all the way to the back, stopping right behind the last peg. Then, he retracted it, raking all the pins in quick succession, pushing them upwards and into the cylinders, the torque making sure they stayed there. However, like stated before, it did not always work. There was one pin that had fallen out immediately, and thus the door could not be opened. Restart and try again, multiple times in fact, but eventually, after something of a dozen attempts he finally succeeded and the lock allowed for it to be opened without struggle. Great, he was inside!

x

credit goes to Euthisa

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

Though he was happy to have reached the inside of the vault, he wasn’t so glad to see what awaited him in there. Or rather, what he would see, right now, he saw nothing, Leth’s light did not reach there, so the darkness refused to reveal anything. Brandon sighed, stepped out of the doorframe and turned around scanning the room for the closest window. His attention was drawn away from that task when he heard the hinges of the metal vault door quietly creak and instinctually knew it was closing itself with a swing. He didn’t doubt the door was closing itself, with a whirl he spun on his heels and quickly stuck his foot between door and frame, thus blocking the closure.

The bat pulled the door back open, his foot not leaving its place while he let the door swing back to its original, closed position, Brandon’s foot preventing it again. Crouching, the thief reached for his wedge, wriggling it under the door so it wouldn’t be able to move a bit. Good, now he could leave here without having to pick the lock again. Still though, he made sure to check first before he strode to the window and shove the curtains aside, inviting Leth’s light inside. Then he returned, going into the vault and saw something dismaying.

Now that the pale silvery moonlight snuck inside the vault like Brandon did, the inside was clearly visible. There was a metal box placed against the back wall, it was about half as tall as Brandon was, but four times as wide. Further examination revealed no lock, but a hole which –after studying the inside with a lockpick- was just that, a hole, about as long as a key, but with no pegs, nor other mechanic. Also, just below the hole, he could discern a slight indentation with a pattern, about as large as a knuckle.

However, there was a handle, or a knob if you will, attached to the door, yet even though Brandon used all his strength in an attempt to open the smaller vault, it did not budge. A conclusion was reached: the hole and the circular dentation were the mechanism to open the vault, he should find some sort of stave and a round or cylindrical object. How exactly that would work he did not know, it was just a gut feeling he had, the same feeling that told him the vendor would keep those keys close to him, the bedroom is where he should find him.

Once more, the bat left the larger vault, and headed into the hallway, through the door right next to the vault. Inside the hall, a stairway led to the first floor where the thief was met by four doors, four different rooms. The third of which he tried brought him to the bedroom where he found a large bed, one where two sleeping figures were rested upon. Tiptoeing, the masked thief snuck closer, his leather boots making but soft noises, sounds barely audible. Before long he stood beside the bed, the body of a sleeping man turning in his slumber, under Brandon’s black gaze.

Onyx orbs darted, scanning, studying and observing until he found something that might be what he was looking for: a ring with a round top, engraved with some sort of seal. A finger stroked the surface lightly, affirming that the size and the symbol matched those of the vault, Brandon grinned underneath his mask. Both hands shot out, one grabbed the finger the ring was fitted around, the other using two fingers to pinch the jewel. The man didn’t wake up, though he grunted a bit and started snoring. The thief proceeded, slowly trying to wriggle the metal object off the jeweler’s finger, but to no avail, whether the fit was too tight or it had just attached itself to the finger, it refused to move at all. Frustrated, Brandon let go of the man’s hand, deciding to go back to the kitchen, there would be some oil there.

While the bat moved with a certain level of quietness, the stairs were not his favorite choice to descend with, the reason why was simple. Stairs were made of wood, wood sometimes creaked when one stepped on it, he had been lucky when ascending, but he didn’t want to force his luck. Instead, he decided he’d jump down. Within ticks he stood on the rail, balancing with relative ease and without thinking about it he just jumped, making sure he jumped forwards and not just down, if he just dropped from the rail he wouldn’t be able to roll, and even though bending his knees at the landing would lessen the impact, it would hurt. So he jumped forward, bending his knees upon touching down, but also bowing forward and as a result he tumbled through the hallway.

Though it wasn’t a silent action, it was quiet enough, no sleeping fellow would hear it, only those awake and focusing on the silence would. However, there was one thing he forgot to take into account. The jeweler was rich and collected artwork, there had been portraits of him hanging on the walls –so the bat had realized when seeing the man’s face- and even a couple of busts were scattered across the house. So too in the hallway, a half-length on a pedestal was installed, and it was that that Brandon knocked over with his roll. The stone jewelers stern face hit the floor with an awful crash!, splinters and shards scattering and hailing down everywhere. There was no way none of those two upstairs had heard, thus, concluded the bat, his cover was blown, he had to hide!

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credit goes to Euthisa

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

Back on his feet, Incognito’s head turned to and fro, searching for a place to remain unseen in, a place to hide for what would be coming down the stairs. The stairs! Of course! A quick dash that ended in a skid took him under them, the treads forming a surprisingly good location to shelter for stares. It was dark, he was out of immediate sight and he could climb up while clinging to the bottom of the treads, thus making people who’d look believe there was no-one hiding there. People usually forgot to look up, so those made the best spots to disappear to, though for others like him it was quite predictable.

However, for a random jeweler or his wife it would do nicely. Without wasting time, the bat grabbed on to the highest tread he could reach, and started climbing up, higher and higher. Though, it was easier said than done, since the next hold was located higher than the one he held onto now, he had to pull himself up a bit, let go with one hand and reach up. Doing that while trying to be quiet proved to be no easy task. For one he had to haul his body up with one arm momentarily, which he couldn’t do for long, and he couldn’t just throw his hand onto the next fulcrum since that would make too much noise. Instead, he had to carefully place it onto the tread, grabbing hold and swinging his other arm up. The last part was a lot less hard, luckily.

Arms felt like they were on fire, sweat formed on the inside of the mask, rolling down his face, but still he kept climbing upwards, he wasn’t high enough yet. More time he wouldn’t get though, loud steps resonated through the dwelling, the stairs shook under the violent stampede of feet, all caused by one person. Through the gaps between the treads, Brandon could discern a white nightgown rippling while a female figure rushed down the stairs. Time was up, he had to do something or else the woman would see a pair of boots dangling under the staircase when she decided to pay attention. Well, there was one thing he could do… if he could just get his toes through one of those gaps, he could hang parallel with the treads.

The thief kicked his legs forward, swinging a bit in that direction before the reversed action was taken, this repeated itself a couple of times until he was swinging in wide arcs, and then, when his feet reached close enough, he managed to stick the tips of his boots through one of the gaps, the black leather footwear lying on the tread and keeping the bat out of sight. And then he remembered his cape, the cloth would still be reaching for the floor, and though it was dark in the hallway, and his cape was black, there was a slight chance the jeweler’s wife would notice. That could become his demise, he should do something about it while the woman was bewilderedly staring at the broken bust. One hand let go of its hold and reached for the clothing, grabbing it and forcing part of it into his pants before returning to its high position. There, problem solved.

Meanwhile, the woman below him was quickly turning her head, scanning the hallway hastily, resembling a hunted animal, paranoid and fearing the hunter might be near. In fact, the hunter was near, but he hadn’t come to chase her. While she decided to have a look under the stairs, Brandon held his breath, not daring to make even the slightest of sounds while she stood directly below him, the top of her head but a couple of decimeters away from his feet. Naturally, she forgot to look up, thus being oblivious of the masked thief hanging there, and tiptoed into the living room, continuing her search there. Finally the bat dared to breathe again and he did so with pleasure before freeing his feet and letting go of the stairs, falling to the ground into a crouch, a dull thud signaling his landing.

Swiftly he moved to the doorframe, pressing himself against the wall directly next to it, the jeweler’s wife returned, hurrying to the spot where the sound came from, focusing on it and not looking around, giving the bat a chance to slip through the door and into the larger chamber, where he did exactly the same as a couple of ticks ago. There had been a small stave on a necklace hanging about her neck, a stave as long as a key. It had picked his interest, it had to be one of the keys to open that damned vault. During the woman’s slumber, the thin rope with the stave had shifted positions, now hanging down her back instead of at her chest. Next time she’d pass he’d try to get that stave, the best way to do that was probably by cutting the string and catching the stave before it reached the ground… No easy task when the target was moving… But it was a challenge, and adrenaline started seeping into his veins already, his heart started beating faster and his breath came out more rapidly as he unsheathed one of his daggers. Though he still wasn’t quite familiar in using them, he was able to recognize his blades by the feel of the hilt alone, and by using that knowledge he had picked a weapon that was suited for the current situation: a stark black blade.

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credit goes to Euthisa

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

It turned out he did not have to wait at all, as soon as he had drawn his blade, the wife of the jeweler returned, obviously going to check the rest of the rooms. Brandon did not know where she had been already, but the windows did. The almost all the curtains had been closed once more, blocking Leth’s light with their cloth walls, locking the darkness inside. The thief smirked, quite glad she had done that, even in this dark he could see, albeit not very well. The female however, wouldn’t see a thing, he was quite sure of that, she had just made things easier for him.

However, it wasn’t like he could see like before, no, it was too dark, but not too dark to discern the overall shape, the silhouettes of objects and people alike. Details were out of the question, he couldn’t see that well in this darkness. Still there was one window where the light of the moon could intrude through, which was where the woman was headed to, with Brandon following in her footsteps, quietly, sneakily. The heart in his chest was racing like never before, adrenaline pumped a sense of aliveness into his body, he could feel the pulsing of blood through his veins… This was one of the moments he lived for, this was how it should be. It was a gamble, it all was a gamble, life itself was a gamble!

The stakes? One’s happiness, fortune and fame, family, limbs, health, everything a person owned was at stake in the great Game of Life. One was barraged with options and choices, if you chose a bad one it did not necessarily have to be that bad, maybe it was a good one, one that led to new choices and opportunities, and so it was for every choice. They branched out like the roots of a tree, each choice eventually leading to a different outcome, a different death, a different life, a different home, family, mind, body and all the rest. Whether the price was worth winning was another matter, but there wasn’t much one could do to resist. If one chose to do nothing, then they had made a choice too, one that would affect the outcome of the gamble.

Brandon was content with the choices he had made, he did not regret anything, he was alive –true, he wasn’t truly free anymore, but he was alive. And he would find a way to cut the strings that were deployed to control him, he would find a way to reclaim his freedom. Maybe not now, but someday he would for sure, that day would change his life too, be it for the better or for the worse, but it would change. He would have to live with the consequences of his choices, of his actions, if he couldn’t he would lose the wager, but if he won… Though all was irrelevant at this time, he had to focus on his objective and right now that was to obtain that stave.

They had reached the window by now, the female placed her hands on the windowsill and sighed, staring right into the eye of the moon god. Whatever she was pondering about, Brandon knew his chance had come, it was time to go all in. Slowly and carefully he raised his dagger, the black gleam camouflaged in the black of the night, the light of Leth showing him what he needed to see. The tip of the black blade wriggled under the cord, a hand grabbed it and pinched it into a little loop, the string of the makeshift necklace was long enough so she shouldn’t notice. Though small, the loop was big enough for the tip of the dagger to fit in and with a flick of his wrist, the wickedly sharp edge snapped the cord with little effort. Once the dagger was sheathed again, the bat let go of the loop, the stave sliding down the thin rope and fell right into his palm.

Somehow, the jeweler’s wife had noticed or felt something as her head made a sharp turn, glares cast over her shoulder. Brandon, however, had already taken a step back and now took another one, disappearing into the black. Not that she would know there had been someone there, staring into the light, even if it was just Leth’s, was enough to undo the dark-adaptedness of one’s eyes, the darkness looking darker than ever. It was no wonder she was unable to see Brandon while he stood just two meters away. Still, the bat held his breath, and stopped moving entirely, fearing discovery if he didn’t. Ticks that felt like bells passed before the woman decided it had been her imagination and returned her gaze skywards, allowing for the thief’s unnoticed escape to the hallway and back up the stairs.

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credit goes to Euthisa

[Brandon Blackwing]

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While the stairs did not scream out to the residents of the house after all, Brandon was somewhat frustrated since he noticed he had forgotten about the oil. Though, kitchens were not the only places to find oil, there were many kinds of oil, and one particular kind could be found in bathrooms. Usually though, the houses he broke into did not have a bathroom, not a large one anyway, but his target was rich this time, and he had already seen the bathroom when he had been looking for the bedroom. The second door on the left it was, he recalled, but doubting it a little.

No, he was right, memory served him well, and the door opened to reveal a lavish bathing chamber, walls and floor constructed out of marble entirely, it seemed. Fancy mirrors clung to the walls, as did a washing table, a rack for washcloths and towels, a cupboard filled with more towels, tubes with shampoo and scrubs. All kind of other stuff was stuffed in other closets; cosmetics, brushes, combs, crèmes and whatnot. A large tub carried by golden hands stood against the wall, a bath table standing near, its surface occupied with dozens of flacons, bottles and flasks, even some small pots that probably held some ointment of some sort. Brandon approached without hesitation, checking one of the pots first, because he was reminded of a certain swindler.

The smell of lard met his nostrils, an embrace of unpleasant scent and sensitive nose, a smell that was not that bad, but not really great either. But yeah, lard. In a pot. An ointment. The pot was as large as his palm, that too fitted with the description Dimitri had provided. Also, the words ’Supple Joints Ointment’ that were painted on its side were quite suspicious. A grin. “Well, well,” the bat whispered softly, “so you decided to send me a little present huh, Dimitri? Thanks a lot, it’s exactly what I need.” Fingers grappled the small pot, and the bat made his way to the bedroom where the Jeweler was waiting to be freed from that ring of his.

Wasting time wasn’t really an option, he had already spent much more time inside than he would have liked, the biological clock told him Syna would rise soon, within half a bell at the very least, then Dawnrest would be over as well. To be safe he’d better make sure to leave within twenty chimes, and handle quickly, but not hastily. Brandon had always found it hard to work with deadlines like these, especially so when he could have been in here sooner, if he had been notified earlier…. Well, his own tardiness might have had something to do with it, but that was beside the point.

Brandon rubbed quite a bit lard on the man’s finger, making it as greasy as possible, so it would be easier to acquire the ring the jeweler wore. Of course, another possibility was to cut of the man’s finger, but that would make a mess and the man would certainly wake up, which wasn’t what he desired to happen. When he was done with the lard, he cleaned his own fingers on the bed-sheets, and pinched the ring between thumb and index finger for the second time and carefully pulled while rotating the band a bit, wriggling it to and fro. It helped, this time, the ring came off without much trouble, except for the fact that the finger must have felt a little hurt due to the bat’s hurried roughness… As his target muttered in his sleep, hauled himself upright and seemed to be waking up, Brandon dove under the bed, it being the best suitable hiding spot in the whole chamber.

The jeweler stared around, dazed from sleep, and noticed the empty space besides him, the sheets being thrown aside. A curse was thrown out and a pair of hairy legs placed feet on the floor, walking to the open door and into the upstairs hallway. Shouting and screaming, bare feet pounding on the wooden stairs as he descended, and Bran came out of his shelter. “Fiona! Where are you, petching shyke-bitch! Fiona! ” A shocked breath of air was inhaled, then a brief moment of silence followed while Brandon reached the end of the hallway and peeked down at the ground level hall, where the jeweler was staring in shock at the broken bust, hands clenched into fists, and steam practically spewing out of his ears. “Fioooooonaaaaaa!!!! What is the meaning of this! WHAT IS MY HALF-LENGTH DOING ON THE FLOOR? BROKEN? WHO DID THIS?! ANSWER ME, FIONA!”

Somehow, there was no response, the jeweler grew more and more angry, Brandon could see it, he was trembling in fury, and stomped through the doorframe and into the living room. The thief snuck down the stairs and followed suit, sensing some sort of secret was about to be revealed. The fuming jeweler stormed towards the window Fiona was still gazing through, obviously spacing out, and roughly pulled the collar of her nightgown. Startled she twists her head in his direction, wincing as she sees the raised fist ready to strike. “SO WHO WAS IT? WHO BROKE MY STATUE? WAS IT YOU? IT WAS YOU, WASN’T IT? ”

x

credit goes to Euthisa

[Brandon Blackwing]

x

The woman named Fiona raised her hands to defend her face, arms that were –so Brandon noticed only now- bruised. “No, Bartell! It wasn’t me, I swear!” Her efforts were in vein, the jeweler’s fist came down with an audible smack!, Fiona was thrown back by the impact, her nightgown ripped as she fell to the floor, a scrap of cloth still in Bartell’s hand. It did not stop there though, the jeweler kept yelling he did not believe her that she was responsible and grabbed the front of her gown, hauling her back on her feet only to crash his fist down on her features, blood spat out of her nose as she cried, begged him to stop, but to no avail.

Time and time again the fist found her face, beating it, pounding it and hurting it relentlessly, Fiona’s features showing the results of her husband’s temper, tears flowing desperately out of her eyes, he voice a soft sobbing. Alas, Bartell did not stop, he did not calm down, instead he just kept screaming in rage, and beat his wife with all his might. Even when she fell to the ground once more he did not stop, he started kicking her instead, her helpless body shocking, convulsing , arms protecting her head, but the feet aimed for her stomach instead.

There was nothing she could do, except curling up into a ball, knees at her chest, but the beating continued and so did her tears. Then he stopped, and filled with hope, Fiona sent her tear-filled gaze upwards, staring at her husband, but his face was still clouded with rage. One hand grappled her arm and jerked her up again, before throwing her aside with a mighty swing. Stumbling, she struggled not to fall, but while she tried her best, she failed after a step or three.

However, a dweller of the darkness came to her aid, catching her mid-fall and gently placing her down. Brandon Of The Black Wings took a step forward, into the light and vision of the angry jeweler, having finally decided that this was not something he would allow to continue any longer. “Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my house?”
“You may refer to me as Incognito,” Brandon spoke calmly, “As for what I am doing here… that is none of your concern. I will say this however, I will not let you continue this senseless violence!”
“What I do in my own house to my own possessions is my own business, not yours!”
“Your possessions? Your wife is a sentient being just like you and me, this pointless beating is not something I will tolerate! No-one deserves such treatment! Not when they have done nothing wrong!”

Bartell replied by storming towards the bat, fist drawn back to strike. Uncontrolled was the punch and sloppy, the thief merely had to step aside to dodge, grabbed the jeweler’s upper arm and the collar of his pajama and turned his back towards him, without letting go. The same instant he bent his knees and pushed his shoulder under Bartell’s chest while getting back up, bending forward and swinging his arms down and let go of the arm and collar. Air was knocked out of the jeweler’s lungs, as his back hit the floor hard, but after a couple of ticks the now even more furious violent husband scrambled back up, shouting that he’d break every bone in the bat’s body. Said bat sighed and shook his masked and hooded head, stepped in and aimed a blow for the man’s forehead which was powered with all his strength behind it. A left hook pounded the jeweler right above his right eye, which rolled up and he collapsed as if all his bones had turned into jelly.

Fiona had taken a spot of the floor too, lying there as a ball again, sobbing. Brandon strode away towards the vault without giving the beaten wife another glance, opening the metal door, entering and sticking the wedge back under it. Then, he kneeled before the smaller vault, inserted the stave in the hole and pressed the ring against the indentation, watching with a smirk of satisfaction as the vault door opened by itself and revealed its treasures. Gems and jewels lied before his very eyes, glittering and sparkling in the pale moonlight. While Brandon was greedy, he decided not to take any extras with him, though jewelry had a high sell value, one had to find someone who was willing to buy it, and Brandon knew not such people. Though, he would do something else. Now he was forced to abandon his identity, he felt the need to create his own, to make a name for himself so no one could deny his existence. There was a way to do that, simple and effective. First he needed to find the ring in this pile of valuables though…

It took a few chimes to sift through the lots of jewels, but eventually he was able to find the ring he needed to retrieve and slipped it into his pouch. Brandon had now swapped locations, now having set foot in the office of the vendor, scribbling a note on a piece of paper.

Can you guess what I took?

- Incognito

The masked thief left the note inside the vault, which he closed again, left the ring and stave inside the larger vault and closed the heavy metal door behind him, his wedge being put back on his belt. Then, with a last glance at the unconscious jeweler and his sobbing wife, the masked thief left their residence and headed back into the night.

x

credit goes to Euthisa

[Raien Ironarm Pitrius]

XP Award!

Name: Brandon Blackwing

XP Award:
Stealth +5
Disguise +1
Larceny +5
Observation +4
Running +1
Acrobatics +1
Dagger +1
Unarmed Combat +1

Lore Award:
Disguise: Face Masks are Uncomfortable
Stealth: Sense of Safety through Disguise
Loss of Identity through Enslavement
"Incognito": The Faceless Shadow
Ignoring Problems through Larceny
Larceny: Gloves Hinder Lockpicking
Want: Fingerless Gloves
Larceny: Picking a Quality Lock
Bartell's House: Relatively Unprotected
Larceny: Opening a Window to find a Mark
Larceny: Sizing up a Lock
Larceny: Encountering an Animated Lock
Larceny: Determination will See you Through
Larceny: Picking an Animated Lock through Innovation
Larceny: Trusting a Gut Feeling
Larceny: Stealing a Ring from a Sleeping Man
Stealth: Breaking a Bust brings Disaster
Stealth: Hiding Under a Staircase
Life: The Great Wager
Dagger: A Tool for Delicate Tasks
Larceny: Lard is your Friend
Bartell: A Man with a Temper
Bartell: A Wife Beater
Incognito: Domestic Guardian!
Bartell: Unskilled in Unarmed Combat

Ledger/Items Received:
+ Mr. Black's Gold Ring

Grader Comments:
Another impressive piece of writing. I really enjoy reading about Bran and his development. This new "identity" could prove to be quite interesting indeed.