Missteps and Pilfered Pride (Gaelin)

Old Rose Harbor is Anaxas' main trade port; it is also the nation's criminal headquarters, home to the Bad Brothers and Silas Hawke, King of the Underworld.
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Tawni Nahmet
Posts: 12
Joined: Thu Mar 14, 2019 8:42 pm
Topics: 5
Location: Old Rose Harbour
Race: Wick
: Look into the Future
Character Sheet: Tawni's Character Sheet
Post Templates: Tawni's Templates
Writer: Euphoria
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Sun Apr 07, 2019 6:52 pm

32nd Day of Intas, 2719
Snow was falling in the Trader’s Market, but merchants and patrons alike didn’t seem to care; the harbor was still bustling with activity. A young wick by the name of Tawni was among them, cloak wrapped tight around a slightly shivering frame. The witch was a creature of warm sun and balmy breezes, and these freezing temperatures were doing nothing for her mood. She resented the snow more and more with each step she took.

In spite of the weather, she still had to eat, so here she was, outside in her torn cloak and red nose cursing the slush that pulled at her feet and threatened to topple her at any second. Jingling the coin purse at her belt, she made a face. It was much closer to empty than she liked, and business was rather slow since she’d arrived in Old Rose. Tapping her chin thoughtfully, Tawni looked around. A busy market with plenty of distracted drunkards… Maybe she could refill it a bit, after all.

Calculating hazel eyes swept the crowd, shuffling slowly and absently enough that none would take notice of the way her gaze assessed each person she passed. Too young, too old, too alert, too poor… At last, her lips curled in a smile, adjusting her hood a little more securely to conceal it. There. A middle-aged man in well-tailored garb with the distinct gait of a kov who’s thrown back a few too many ales for the time of day. He’s perfect.

Slowly, the wick meandered in her target’s direction, stopping at a few stalls here and there to browse their wares with half an eye, all the while keeping careful track of the man’s location. Over the span of several minutes, she drifted closer and closer until she was mere steps away from the oblivious fellow. Another smile crossed her face, dropping her eyes to the ground while she prepared to pounce.

Here we go.

Straightening up, she strode toward him, “accidentally” slipping over a patch of ice and stumbling right into the man’s hefty form. Her arms flailed out to catch herself, one ever so conveniently landing at his belt while the other took hold of his shoulder. Eyes wide and expression bewildered, she looked up into his face, her hand groping along his waist for the purse she knew was there as she “fought” to regain her balance.

“Epaemo!” she gasped in apology, the man’s face just as confused as hers pretended to be. “This damn ice, I swear!”

Beefy hands moved to help her, Tawni’s fingers finding his purse at last and deftly relieving him of it. “O-oh, tha’s al’right,” was the unsuspecting man’s slurred response, the witch’s arm sliding back behind her cloak and tucking the small bag under her own belt. “Slipped a few times t’day, meself,” he hastened to reassure her, clumsily patting her on the shoulder. “Just got to keep yer eyes on yer feet, lass.”

“Of course, of course,” she breathed in reply, using his arms to steady herself and step away. A charming smile was flicked his way, playfully tapping his cheek with a wink. “I’ll make sure to be more careful, aye.”

The discomfited man guffawed into his beard, clearing his throat and ducking his head to hide the flush that crept to his cheeks. “Indeed, ye uh… Ye make sure to do that.” With a flustered cough, he offered a brusque nod and did a little stumbling himself. “Ma’am.” That seemed to be his form of farewell, promptly turning on his heel and walking off and leaving a gleeful Tawni giggling softly in his wake.

Glowing with the satisfaction of a job well done, the witch walked back off toward one of the food stalls with her pilfered loot jingling at her side. That was almost too easy, she thought, offering the merchant a sweet smile before she started browsing his wares. Maybe I can even snag a few more before I get out of here…


Last edited by Tawni Nahmet on Sat Apr 13, 2019 5:09 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 704

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Gaelin
Posts: 22
Joined: Fri Mar 22, 2019 1:15 pm
Topics: 6
Race: Galdor
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Post Templates: Gaelin's Templates
Plot Notes: Plot Notes
Writer: Thaumaturgy
Contact:

Fri Apr 12, 2019 12:51 am

Trader's Market• Old Rose Harbor
on the 32nd of Intas, 2719
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Dressed in his gray winter outfit and encapsulated in his black winter cloak, Gaelin was wandering through the Trader’s Market, adding his footprints to the countless other left in the snow. Another dusting from the sky was descending on the harbor, this time without the wind. The recruit wished he knew where a good vantage point of the entire harbor was. He imagined that the fresh layer of snow would do well to disguise the cut-throat tendencies of the criminals that had made the place their home. It would not be long before the purity of it was stained by the Bad Brothers, or some other uncivilized soul. Thus far, Gaelin had been proven wrong in that regard. No stains of red had been formed in any of the streets he had wandered.

For a good deal of the day, he had been wandering the city. To the point that his feet were craving exposure to fresh air and his shins were burning from the sloped streets. After nearly a month of residing here, Gaelin was just beginning to feel confident in his memorization of the harbor’s layout. Enough to really understand that the Vineyard was strategically placed to be in the most inconvenient location for the Seventen to do their jobs. In an outlying part of the city on the other side of the canal. It was discouraging, but not enough to stop Gaelin from being outside every day.

The trader’s market was only on the opposite side of the canal from both the Vineyard and his home. Since he was out here, he started aimlessly moving from vendor to vendor, looking for a heavier set of clothes for a human female to wear during the winter. Alara was whining each day about having to venture out into the cold. Some days she could not be convinced to tolerate the discomfort, whether he tried swaying her with words or with punishment. So, he finally caved, and was first looking for another winter cloak that she could use.

While he was looking over someone’s supply, he heard an exclamation in tek. Gaelin looked over his shoulder to see a heavier set galdor speaking with a wick. All he had heard was the apology, but nothing else as they were too far to be overheard properly. Nothing appeared wrong, and there were no raised voices following suit to indicate some kind of altercation. Everything was fine. Gaelin looked back at the dark, fur lined cloak he had been considering a few moments ago. Alara was only his human servant, but she was his only one. Her quality of health and appearance reflected on him. The cloak wasn’t luxurious, but it was just a bit opulent while providing the necessary function. And, it would make the girl happy while ridding her of any more excuses about the cold. “I’ll take this one.”

After the transaction was done, Gaelin was putting the cloak away in his pack when he heard a small commotion. Following the noise to its source, the pudgy galdor was grumbly loudly and searching through his pockets. “I tell you, I ‘ad it ‘ere!” he shouted at the vendor. The man’s face was growing red as he renewed his search. It looked as though it was only going to get a bit worse. The man was swaying on his feet to indicate how much alcohol he had ingested already. With a sigh, he approached the galdor who was stammering some nonsense. He adjusted his high collar to show his single Snap, indicating his rank among the Seventen.

“Is everything alright?” The galdor, who appeared older than him, stopped and rounded his bloodshot eyes on him. Eyes that were out of focus but eventually noticed the Snap on his collar. “No, sir! It’s not! Someberdy robbed me!” he boomed unnecessarily. “An’ now I can’ pay fer me food.” A thick finger jabbed Gaelin in the chest. “Yer the one that needs ta find my money. Dat’s what yer job is, right?” Gaelin refrained from sighing in exasperation. Finding a drunk man’s money was not exactly a thrilling pastime. “Yes, sir. Do you remember the last time you handled your money?”

The red cheeked galdor wheezed as he reflected through the recent memory he still had. Wine stained breath laced with a stench of used tobacco clogged Gaelin’s nose; making him cough once through his nostrils to expel the foul air. “Tha tavern. ‘cause I paid my fee, then walked ‘ere. Had a nice chat with a perty lass that fell inta me,” the man slowly recalled. While he continued to ramble on, Gaeling turned his head to scan for the woman he had seen the fellow “talking” to. Either the man had left his coin purse at the tavern, or someone had pick-pocketed him. The red-haired recruit turned his attention back to the drunkard.

“What I need, sir, is your name, and the name of the tavern that you had gone to. I’ll investigate where your money’s gone and return it to you at home once I find it.” Half coherent thanks were sputtered before the man identified himself and where he had been earlier. Part of Gaelin hoped that all the man’s pennies had been spent on alcohol, or simply left behind on accident. But he was fairly certain that that wasn’t what actually happened. Before the man could walk away, Gaelin stopped him for one last question. “What do you remember about this ‘pretty lass’ that bumped into you?”

“Oh… uh… she was perty. And… uh… she jingled with each movement.” Gaelin gave the man his thanks for the details, despite how there was only one helpful detail, before turning away. His eyes swept the faces of those present still in the market. Also, he kept an ear out for the sound of this “jingling” that she made.


Code Credit to Graf!
word count: 1049
User avatar
Tawni Nahmet
Posts: 12
Joined: Thu Mar 14, 2019 8:42 pm
Topics: 5
Location: Old Rose Harbour
Race: Wick
: Look into the Future
Character Sheet: Tawni's Character Sheet
Post Templates: Tawni's Templates
Writer: Euphoria
Contact:

Fri Apr 12, 2019 6:28 pm


“Mujo ma,” Tawni murmured sweetly to the food merchant, pressing a bird into his hand and accepting her purchases with a smile. “Until next time!” The man returned her smile with a tip of his hat, the witch wiggling her fingers in farewell, turning on her heel, and meandering off in the other direction.

A merry whistle joined the tinkle of her jewelry while she walked, this time approaching a clothier’s stall. With her newfound wealth, she was sure she could pick up a new cloak and finally lay her old, worn garment to rest. Another smile accompanied Tawni’s cheerful, “Hesta!” The tailor offered only a nod in response, watching carefully as the wick started browsing through his wares.

It was a rare occasion that Tawni even considered buying clothing in a more human style, but cloaks were fairly universal in their functionality. Besides, it wasn’t as if she couldn’t sew a more exciting pattern into it later, but for the time being, she needed something a bit warmer than her current sad, patched affair. All of these colors are so boring, she thought with an inward roll of her eyes, slender fingers rifling through her choices until she found one made in a deep maroon wool. It was not as ostentatious nor as bright as the clothing she generally preferred, but it was better than the plain black or brown of most of the others. Humans have so little imagination, she thought before taking her choice over to the stall’s netche.

It was only a minute or two before the wick was striding away, new cloak thrown over her shoulders right atop the old. With a sack of food firm in hand and the cloak on her back, she had accomplished what she came for, but her stolen loot was almost drained because of it. Frowning, she pushed her finger into the nearly empty purse and shook her head. Technically, she didn’t need anything else, but with the first bag of coin acquired so easily, perhaps she ought to try for a second. Besides, Tawni always did enjoy a challenge…

She didn’t think for long before deciding that’s what she would do, slipping the one remaining coin into her own satchel and letting the man’s flutter to the ground. She’d stolen it for the money, not the purse, after all, and it was never a good idea to hold onto unnecessary incriminating evidence. Tawni was young and impulsive, but she wasn’t stupid, and she’d been caught before. All it had taken was once for her to learn her lesson.

Tawni took on an unassuming stance, leaning against a wall and casually looking over the crowd again for her next (and final) target. Once more, it didn’t take her long to find one, spotting the perfect person a few stalls down the line. There. An older woman about fifty paces away, carrying a few too many bags for how small she was. The wick doubted she would even notice if one was gone.

Here we go again.

Pushing herself forward, she wandered in the direction of her prey, zigzagging a few times as not to make her path too obvious. When she got within reaching distance of the woman, she stopped, turning to look up at the sky. Behaving as if entranced with the cloud formations overhead, she started walking again, casually bumping into the nattle she’d set her sights on. Instead of her stumbling this time, Tawni had caused the other to do so, throwing her arms out as if to catch her.

“Oh, aren’t you kind,” the oblivious woman exclaimed, holding onto the witch’s outstretched hand in order to steady herself. “Can’t seem to keep my balance for anything these days.”

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing,” Tawni told her unsuspecting companion, hands patting her arms and back as if to reassure her. “It’s me own fault. Should’ve watched where I was going!” Locating a strap that didn’t seem too entangled with the others, she quickly found the buckle keeping it in place and eased it away from its owner.

“Now, now, it’s fine,” the woman replied with a kindness that almost made the wick feel guilty. Almost was the key word, her prize already stowed under her cloak to be redeemed later. “We all get a bit distracted now and then, don’t we?”

“Of course,” Tawni replied warmly, the charming smile she was known for tugging at her lips. “But I am sorry still.”

The other shook her head, already moving off in the other direction. “Pay no mind. You have a good day now!” All she received in response was a friendly inclination of the witch’s head, turning and heading off her own way.

Tawni hadn’t gotten very far when she heard a cry of surprise, a high-pitched voice shouting, “I’ve been robbed!” Hazel eyes widened in alarm, her pace quickening even as she tried not to be too obvious about it. Shit. Shouldn’t have been so cocky.

Ducking and darting through the busy market, she tried to look calm, though the haste of her step belied the expression on her face. Better not be a bunch of spitch in this bag, she thought bitterly while she continued to push her way to the main thoroughfare leading away from the market. She didn’t dare take it out to examine it now; it would have to wait until she was back in her kint. No use in getting caught red-handed.

Just a few more steps, she thought, brushing past a tall galdor man with bright red hair—though, this time the collision actually was an accident. Bright hazel eyes glanced back to briefly catch blazing sapphire before she was gone again…

…Leaving a jingle in her wake.


word count: 996
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Gaelin
Posts: 22
Joined: Fri Mar 22, 2019 1:15 pm
Topics: 6
Race: Galdor
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Post Templates: Gaelin's Templates
Plot Notes: Plot Notes
Writer: Thaumaturgy
Contact:

Sun Apr 14, 2019 9:32 pm

Trader's Market • Old Rose Harbor
on the 32nd of Intas, 2719
Image
After a single sweeping examination of the people within eyesight, the situation began to feel daunting. Snow and ice were deterring people from being out unless they absolutely had to, or needed, to be out. Despite that, there were still a large number of people visiting the markets. Finding a single stranger, with nothing more than “she jingles” for a description, in this crowd was likely to be a pointless endeavor. Still, it was his job to try.

Hands clasped together behind his back as he squared his shoulders. Slow steps were taken as he continued to walk down the street, head swiveling from side to side. A woman, possibly wick. Had it been possible, Gaelin would’ve liked to have handed off the task to someone in the Patrol Division. Most of his training involved following well-informed leads rather than vague accounts from a drunkard. A sigh helped to purge his growing pessimism. Rather than continuing to wish for something different, he tried to imagine what he would do if he were the thief. What would be the first thing I’d want to spend the shills and tallies on?

It was difficult to imagine what he would do in that situation, because he had never been in it to understand the motivations. Then he thought about what his servant would likely spend the money on if she acquired an unexpected amount. Food and clothing were the first two things that came to mind. Everything else afterwards would depend more on the person holding the tallies, or pennies. Food and clothing were two universal needs regardless of race and wealth. The next question was, which one did the thief need more?

After a few minutes, something caught his eye. Turning to set his gaze on it, Gaelin lost sight of it as people crisscrossed in the space between. But then he saw it again for an instant. Marching over, he found a satchel abandoned on the ground. Kneeling, he picked it up to examine it. First thing he noticed is that it was light, probably empty. Opening the flap confirmed that suspicion. It didn’t stop a hand from feeling around the inside for anything that might have been missed. When he was done, he turned the satchel over in his hands.

The material was a dark stained leather with years of wear and tear on it. Holding up to his nose for a quick sniff sent a faint smell of spirits up his nostrils. Definitely the drunkard’s then. Standing up, he looked around in every direction. It was possible for the pick-pocket to have just taken the spoils and leave without spending them. As small of a consolation as it would’ve been, Gaelin held onto the satchel to be able to at least return that to its owner. The prospects of finding this mysterious woman were growing faint.

Until a woman screamed about being robbed that is. Gaelin’s head turned in the direction that it came from and started moving towards it. Slipping through the crowd silently instead of making his presence known. The new victim’s realization could’ve been just as late as the first victim. No need alerting the market to his proximity just yet. As he stepped into a small gap in the crowd, a witch was coming from the other direction in a bit of a haste. Her mind must have been elsewhere, for she brushed against him unnecessarily close. A quick glimpse caught the hazel eyes before she turned to disappear into the crowd. Gaelin nearly forgot about her until he realized she was jingling with each step.

Stopping suddenly, he whipped his gaze back around for the witch in her obviously new maroon cloak. Something in his gut told him to chase her even when he had no certified reason to do so. Changing his direction, he started after her in with a brisk walk. The woman appeared to be heading out of the market in the most direct way possible. After taking several more strides after her, he spoke up. “Excuse me!” If she turned to look back at him, he would raise the discarded satchel. “I believe you dropped this!”
Code Credit to Graf!
word count: 758
User avatar
Tawni Nahmet
Posts: 12
Joined: Thu Mar 14, 2019 8:42 pm
Topics: 5
Location: Old Rose Harbour
Race: Wick
: Look into the Future
Character Sheet: Tawni's Character Sheet
Post Templates: Tawni's Templates
Writer: Euphoria
Contact:

Tue Apr 16, 2019 7:25 pm


As soon as she heard that voice behind her, Tawni knew she had to make a decision—and fast. There was suspicion in his tone, suspicion bordering on outright accusing, which she would be rather indignant about if it wasn’t for the fact that she was guilty. She could turn around, deny it all, bat her eyelashes, and hope the galdor on her tail believed her. That seemed the simplest route and the least dangerous one… that is, if he took her at her word. But even if he did, could she bring herself to do it—to charm and beguile and flirt her way out of trouble? He was a galdor, a law-keeper, and already her mouth was filling with bile at the thought. And if he didn’t believe her… she shuddered. Tawni could hold her own in a casual fight, but she didn’t like her odds against a galdor. Ne, maybe not that, then.

Grimacing, she hesitated, casting a brief glance his way, then back toward the road in front of her. I could run, the witch considered, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. I’m smaller’n he is, and I’d wager a bit faster too. I could probably get him off me tail. Her teeth dug a little harder into her lip. Though nothin’ makes you look guiltier than fleein’ the scene o’the crime. Tawni snorted. Then again, I did do it.

Shaking her head, Tawni decided on the latter, hoping with a few tricks up her sleeve that she might be successful. Reaching into her purse, she gathered up a pinch of flash powder between sweaty fingers, nervously glancing toward her pursuer. “Never was any good at this,” she muttered, grimacing as she rolled the powder into a ball. “But one can hope…?” Uttering a silent prayer under her breath, she threw her little ball to the ground before launching into a sprint, though her tactic failed rather miserably. The little tendrils of smoke that erupted from her “bomb” were hardly more than what a cigarette might produce, Tawni shouting, “Vrunta!!” and propelling herself forward even faster.

Come on, y’silly chip, think! You’ve got more than that! The witch darted around the corner into a twisting alleyway, sparing another glance over her shoulder. Maybe, just maybe… Recalling the wild lights spell from her family’s old almanac, she started muttering softly in Monite, quietly enough that he might not overhear. A minute or so later, illusory patterns of shapes and color started filling the space between the dilapidated buildings, Tawni crossing her fingers that her magic might do better to conceal her position. Let’s make it a little more interesting, eh…?

Dipping around a corner and pressing her back against the wall, she took a deep breath, leaning in to pitch her call in the opposite direction. “Hey! Jent!” Letting out a shrill whistle, she threw her voice down the other end of the alley. “Over here!”

Tawni smirked, hearing her own voice echo as if it came from the mouth of where she’d entered. Let’s hope he ent too smart, she thought, pushing off from the wall and picking her pace back up. Slipping down another adjacent alley, her feet hardly made a sound against the pavement, eating the ground beneath her while she fought to ditch her quarry.


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