Open Chronicles A fistful of coins

[Caits]

It was a job like any other. Dark alleys, private residence, acclaimed jewelled sceptre.
Lord Ballfort was one of the more ostentatious nobles of Elbion the kind who spent more of socks than some people earned in a year.
So morally, this was fine.
Least Caits thought so.

It took less time than he thought getting help with the job. It helped that he plumbed the most dismal dives in the city for only the most desperate or foolhardy of folk to take with him.

He stepped from shadow to shadow, his one eye darting about looking for any danger. Ears listening to two half drunk guards talk about how bear fights ain't as good as they used to be.
The goal was the back entrance. Lightly guarded, only one and they were... They were sleeping?
He couldn't believe his luck as he turned around and spoke in hushed tones to the shadows.
"The Powers are with us. The lout is sleeping. So, do you remember what we're after?"
It was the jewelled sceptre of course but it never hurt to keep people's eye on the prize.


Mathlyn Mordacht

 

[Mathlyn Mordacht]

"A stick," Mathlyn rumbled bluntly, eyes focusing past the thief in a weary stare. "An expensive stick."

The Half-Elf tugged the makeshift mask back over the bridge of her nose as she waited, hunched behind Caits with a hand hovering over the handle of her sword. The pedantic prancing from patch to patch of gloom had made her somewhat antsy, though now that the back entrance was in sight it basically meant the job was half-done already, right?

Mathlyn picked at a ball of lint on her hood before rolling her shoulders, desperate to pop the joints to alleviate the mounting pressure within them. If it weren't for the desperate need for cash, she might've just done so. "I guess I'm ready when you are." She murmured, tapping the thief's shoulder gently and huffing through her nose.

 

[Caits]

"It's not just an expensive stick. It's a REALLY expensive stick ya ken?"
She did, or didn't. He couldn't tell and it didn't matter.
With the tap on his shoulder he slipped out and over to the sleeping guard. The Key was on a ring on his belt.
Caits thanked the Powers for drunken fools and slipped the ring key from the sleeping guard taking time to not disturb them.
Key secured he turned and held it up in triumph just as the sleeping guard let out a loud snort and grumble.
Caits froze, it all turned on this moment. Being seen now stopped the whole show.
He waited a tense moment then let out a breath as the guard resumed their slumbering.
"See? Easy."
He said to Mathlyn as he unlocked the side gate entrance to the manor.
The garden was dark and only the trickle of water from some unseen water feature broke the silence.
He smiled at his companion and led her to the manor house through tall hedges pruned into all manner of shapes.
The entrance was a no go of course but the windows.
"Can you see any open windows?" He asked quietly as he peered at the house through the thicket.

Mathlyn Mordacht

 

[Mathlyn Mordacht]

With a keen, if not disinterested-looking gaze, Mathlyn observed the plucky thief from her post. She'd barely moved a muscle whilst he swiped the key, mostly due to inexperience and laziness. Of course, two pointed ears listened out for any impending guards or witnesses, but when the ambient drone of night's chorus met her senses she took action and followed suit of Caits, slinking through the now opened gate and into the garden.

Mathlyn had to hold back an impressed whistle when she caught sight of the fancy decorum scattered over the grounds, pupils darting up once directed to do so. Her eyes narrowed, focusing on the reflections of panes until...

"That one. Second floor. Second most right," She mumbled, a boney digit pointing at the opening in question.

"Here's hoping they're all asleep too, aye?"

 

[Imad Awain]

They sure were talkative for a scene that required a more surreptitious approach. Watching their luck dwindle from the get go didn't sit well with him. He wasn't superstitious by any means, but to be smug towards forces unseen and unknown wasn't a game he wanted a hand in. The prize was the stick, but he brought empty pockets, and they required enrichment. "Our escape route is secured." He looked up to see what she was pointing at. "Ah, hopefully you lot stretched." He took a deep breathe, steeling himself for the worst.

 

[Caits]

"The fu...??"
Caits had almost forgotten about Imad, the third member of their troupe. He didn't know what to expect from him but beggars couldn't be choosers.
He hushed himself into serenity again.
"Yes, thank you Imad. We were there when we secured it."
Caits pointed back the way they had come for emphasis.
"Now let's get up to that window... And hope that they really are all asleep."
Scuttling over to a section of wall that conveniently had a thick knotted ivy growth climbing up it he spat on his hands, rubbed them together and hoisted himself up onto the natural ladder it created.
"Come on!"
He whispered as loud as he could and began to ascend.

Mathlyn Mordacht Imad Awain

 

[Imad Awain]

Ah, he must've blacked out from when they saw the sleeping guard til now. He had a terrible habit of doing that. Many voices kept him from focusing half the time. He needed to get a hold of himself or he'd lose out on yet another profitable venture. "Er, correct, apologies, Caits." He tipped his hat and followed suit. He clambered after Caits, the ivy straining to hold his weight. He swore he heard singing from coming from the window. Humming? A whistled tune? Focus, Imad.

Caits
Mathlyn Mordacht