Post by Japic on Mar 9, 2006 15:59:42 GMT -5
Perched in the shadows of a chimney a lone figure sits watching; waiting for the chance he needs to get inside. A decent sized mansion sits opposite his location where he’s observed the rotation of the guards for the last three nights. The house itself would be easy to access; a terrace on the west side would be his way in. The balcony connected to the study he needed; and the hardest part would be bypassing the guards.
Glancing towards the sky his eyes seek out the sliver of moon hanging above the thin clouds. Yes, it was just about time. Though his eyes were fairly adjusted to the darkness he makes one final preparation before heading in. From a hidden pocket he withdraws a small vile and applies a single drop of the silvery liquid to his eyes. Blinking rapidly to apply the liquid evenly he feels the familiar tingle that once he’d found uncomfortable. With the pain comes something invaluable on a night like this; night eyes… What once was cloaked in shadow now is as clear as daylight to him. The colors are smeared and gone; but the shapes remain. Turning his new eyes towards the guards once more the figure stands and levels his crossbow at the wooden gatepost opposite him. With a thrum the bolt is away trailing a stout but thin cord behind it. With a soft :thunk: the barbed bolt finds its mark and he ties the other end to the fireplace he’d been using for his reconnaissance. Nimble as a cat he steps up onto the rope and begins his descent from the rooftop. Though on a thin bit of rope twenty feet in the air the man strides confidently forward, quickly crossing the cobbled street below.
Safely across he pauses by the post, molding his body to the shadows thereof while watching for the guards. Good; exactly where they should be. Stepping ‘round the post he vaults off the rod iron fence and tumbles to his feet running silently across the turf. Reaching the side of the building he ducks behind a well trimmed shrub as a pair of guards marches past in their chainmaille armor; the blades of their halberds glinting in the faint moonlight. Moving quietly away again he reaches the trellis and scuttles up it dropping lightly onto the balcony. Safely away from the guard’s eyes he moves closer to the glass paneled doors and peers inward for signs of life. The study is a massive two storied room with books lining every wall. The hearth is dark, the doors closed; this was going to be easy. Before trying anything foolish he turns his attention to the door, searching for telltale signs of traps. There was no external lock, only a latch accessible only from the inside; apparently people were concerned about security these days; go figure. Finding nothing awry the man produces a small prybar from his suit and sets to work removing the molding that holds the one of a glass panels to the frame. The nails squeal a little in protest; but he doesn’t hear anything suggesting the guards heard.
With the woodwork damaged the piece of glass comes out in the thief’s nimble hands in a solid piece and he sets it aside gingerly. Reaching through the open pane he unfastens the latch and pushes the door open long enough to slip inside. The floor is mostly covered in plush carpets imported from another city; there was no one in Brazleton who could do such fine work, he was sure. Situated near the hearth a framed portrait rests on the wall; he takes a moment to assess the chubby man therein. This man called himself a merchant; though the thief would call him a crook. There were well hidden hinges on the portrait, allowing it to swing aside and give access to what he came for; a wall safe, though safe isn’t what he’d call its contents. Applying an expert’s touch he manipulates the lock trying to crack its secrets. It takes a few tense minutes but finally there’s a click and the thief turns the handle smiling triumphantly. Within is more treasure than he’d earned from this man; though if you cheat a thief, you can expect to be cheated in kind.
Un-strapping the special bag he kept for just this he quickly began to unload the objects therein. One item was particularly interesting, though he did not know what it was. Gems he had a plenty; notes for gold; even a couple property deeds for small shops across town. Nothing was safe from his touch; and all went into the bag; the last being the only object of intrigue in the damnable place. A small metallic cube; though only an inch square, looked made of mithril perhaps. Picking it up to look over the thief’s ears were assaulted with a brain piercing shriek. Fumbling the item in his haste to be rid of it the thief quickly secured the bag as the wailing went on. Kicking the cube across the room he peered outside and could see guards running from every quarter of the grounds. Damn; he’d gotten in so easily; out would be another matter. Outside the door he heard shouts as men pounded up the stairs. Running outside he made ready to go over the edge but halted when three crossbow bolts ricocheted of the stone nearby. They were already down that way; going through them would bring naught but suffering. Thinking quickly he dodged back inside and crossed to the study door. Locking the bolt he shoved a nearby chair up against it to help deter his pursuit and then turned his attentions to escaping.
There were two doors out of the room, both with guards at the ready. The ones inside were pounding on the door, trying o break it down, while it sounded like the others were trying to climb as he had. There were three skylights far above; but all were too far away for him to reach. The windows presented the same problem as the trellis; there were guards out there, and jumping through a window would certainly grab their attention. Then his eyes focused in on the fireplace; desperately he ducked under the mantle to study his chance of escape. Grimacing at the tight shaft he pulled a potion from his belt and swilled the contents down and began his climb. Thankfully whoever had built it had left it plenty rough in here and the going was easy. He braced himself against the walls as the potion kicked in and his body began to shrink. Once he was certain that the change was done he began to shimmy once more. Up and up he climbed a full eighty feet till he got to the top. From below he could hear muffled shouts of soldiers as they tore apart the study searching for him. Turning his attention back to his escape he noted that the opening was too small for him to fit easily through but he knew he could do it. He’d been through worse. Pulling one arm up front he grabbed hold of the outer edge and used his toes to push him upward. The spot was small, but his body bent as need be and after a minutes struggle got his torso out of the flu. Pulling his legs quickly out he lowered himself to the tiled roof and once again tucked himself into the shadows.
Guards were milling about everywhere and lighting torches every ten feet along the outer wall. This would not be easy at all. Atop the six story mansion he sat and waited; hoping for another opportunity to present itself. Within a few minutes his body returned to its normal size and a plan began to form within his mind. Creeping carefully down the roof he was careful not to break any loose and give away his position. Once at the edge he lay on his belly and peered over the gutter to the yard below. There was one guard standing at attention by the servant’s door; while the others ran to and fro following the orders of their commander. Wasting no time he pulled a dagger from his boot and gripped it between his teeth. He glanced to the sky again and noticed that it was lightening; if he didn’t get out soon; he might not have the opportunity.
Gripping the gutter with both hands he swung his legs off and into the open air. Taking just a moment to re-adjust his soot covered hands grabbed the drainpipe and he began his descent. He paused whenever a guard marched past, lest the movement catch their eye. Finally on the ground the thief waited for one more guard to pass before slinking along the building towards his target. He knew this was going to hurt; but he also knew that this was the only way he was going to get out.
Creeping up right behind the rigid door guard the thief reached up to cover his mouth while slicing the man’s throat. In instant response he flinched at the pain of his own making and grimaced at what must be done. The Maiden exacted her tribute; though uncomfortable it wasn’t like he’d never experienced her touch before.
Pulling the struggling man into the bushes the thief quickly donned his bloodied surcoat and helm. The fellows shield went into his hand and he stood quickly back into his victim’s place as another soldier went past. Once he was gone the thief grabbed a nearby torch and turned towards the wall. He marched with a purpose; as though his commander had sent him this way in search of something. Other soldiers noted his presence, but did nothing to halt his progress. This was going to work out yet. As he neared the place he’d entered he extinguished his torch and grabbed the next nearest one doing the same to it. Acting quickly he donned his toe spikes and pulled on the matching handgrips. Looking back he could see a pair of soldiers walking towards him; obviously curious what their fellow was doing.
Without further hesitation the thief leaped up the pole, his spiked gloves and toes making short work of the pole. The guards were now shouting as the thief dropped the surcoat and gear and bowed before leaping calmly to the street below. Once there he made a mad dash into the nearest alley; quickly losing himself to the chaos of the waking city.
And there you have it. A short story that doubles as an intro to my Thieves Game. I've talked about it before, but I'm getting closer to trying it out. I'm thinking about running one in the Shorts section with fresh PCs built for the occasion. Feel free to comment either on the story itsself or the game potential; I'm all ears.
I've got flavor text for the world, but it's not important for the story. Catch you guys later.
Glancing towards the sky his eyes seek out the sliver of moon hanging above the thin clouds. Yes, it was just about time. Though his eyes were fairly adjusted to the darkness he makes one final preparation before heading in. From a hidden pocket he withdraws a small vile and applies a single drop of the silvery liquid to his eyes. Blinking rapidly to apply the liquid evenly he feels the familiar tingle that once he’d found uncomfortable. With the pain comes something invaluable on a night like this; night eyes… What once was cloaked in shadow now is as clear as daylight to him. The colors are smeared and gone; but the shapes remain. Turning his new eyes towards the guards once more the figure stands and levels his crossbow at the wooden gatepost opposite him. With a thrum the bolt is away trailing a stout but thin cord behind it. With a soft :thunk: the barbed bolt finds its mark and he ties the other end to the fireplace he’d been using for his reconnaissance. Nimble as a cat he steps up onto the rope and begins his descent from the rooftop. Though on a thin bit of rope twenty feet in the air the man strides confidently forward, quickly crossing the cobbled street below.
Safely across he pauses by the post, molding his body to the shadows thereof while watching for the guards. Good; exactly where they should be. Stepping ‘round the post he vaults off the rod iron fence and tumbles to his feet running silently across the turf. Reaching the side of the building he ducks behind a well trimmed shrub as a pair of guards marches past in their chainmaille armor; the blades of their halberds glinting in the faint moonlight. Moving quietly away again he reaches the trellis and scuttles up it dropping lightly onto the balcony. Safely away from the guard’s eyes he moves closer to the glass paneled doors and peers inward for signs of life. The study is a massive two storied room with books lining every wall. The hearth is dark, the doors closed; this was going to be easy. Before trying anything foolish he turns his attention to the door, searching for telltale signs of traps. There was no external lock, only a latch accessible only from the inside; apparently people were concerned about security these days; go figure. Finding nothing awry the man produces a small prybar from his suit and sets to work removing the molding that holds the one of a glass panels to the frame. The nails squeal a little in protest; but he doesn’t hear anything suggesting the guards heard.
With the woodwork damaged the piece of glass comes out in the thief’s nimble hands in a solid piece and he sets it aside gingerly. Reaching through the open pane he unfastens the latch and pushes the door open long enough to slip inside. The floor is mostly covered in plush carpets imported from another city; there was no one in Brazleton who could do such fine work, he was sure. Situated near the hearth a framed portrait rests on the wall; he takes a moment to assess the chubby man therein. This man called himself a merchant; though the thief would call him a crook. There were well hidden hinges on the portrait, allowing it to swing aside and give access to what he came for; a wall safe, though safe isn’t what he’d call its contents. Applying an expert’s touch he manipulates the lock trying to crack its secrets. It takes a few tense minutes but finally there’s a click and the thief turns the handle smiling triumphantly. Within is more treasure than he’d earned from this man; though if you cheat a thief, you can expect to be cheated in kind.
Un-strapping the special bag he kept for just this he quickly began to unload the objects therein. One item was particularly interesting, though he did not know what it was. Gems he had a plenty; notes for gold; even a couple property deeds for small shops across town. Nothing was safe from his touch; and all went into the bag; the last being the only object of intrigue in the damnable place. A small metallic cube; though only an inch square, looked made of mithril perhaps. Picking it up to look over the thief’s ears were assaulted with a brain piercing shriek. Fumbling the item in his haste to be rid of it the thief quickly secured the bag as the wailing went on. Kicking the cube across the room he peered outside and could see guards running from every quarter of the grounds. Damn; he’d gotten in so easily; out would be another matter. Outside the door he heard shouts as men pounded up the stairs. Running outside he made ready to go over the edge but halted when three crossbow bolts ricocheted of the stone nearby. They were already down that way; going through them would bring naught but suffering. Thinking quickly he dodged back inside and crossed to the study door. Locking the bolt he shoved a nearby chair up against it to help deter his pursuit and then turned his attentions to escaping.
There were two doors out of the room, both with guards at the ready. The ones inside were pounding on the door, trying o break it down, while it sounded like the others were trying to climb as he had. There were three skylights far above; but all were too far away for him to reach. The windows presented the same problem as the trellis; there were guards out there, and jumping through a window would certainly grab their attention. Then his eyes focused in on the fireplace; desperately he ducked under the mantle to study his chance of escape. Grimacing at the tight shaft he pulled a potion from his belt and swilled the contents down and began his climb. Thankfully whoever had built it had left it plenty rough in here and the going was easy. He braced himself against the walls as the potion kicked in and his body began to shrink. Once he was certain that the change was done he began to shimmy once more. Up and up he climbed a full eighty feet till he got to the top. From below he could hear muffled shouts of soldiers as they tore apart the study searching for him. Turning his attention back to his escape he noted that the opening was too small for him to fit easily through but he knew he could do it. He’d been through worse. Pulling one arm up front he grabbed hold of the outer edge and used his toes to push him upward. The spot was small, but his body bent as need be and after a minutes struggle got his torso out of the flu. Pulling his legs quickly out he lowered himself to the tiled roof and once again tucked himself into the shadows.
Guards were milling about everywhere and lighting torches every ten feet along the outer wall. This would not be easy at all. Atop the six story mansion he sat and waited; hoping for another opportunity to present itself. Within a few minutes his body returned to its normal size and a plan began to form within his mind. Creeping carefully down the roof he was careful not to break any loose and give away his position. Once at the edge he lay on his belly and peered over the gutter to the yard below. There was one guard standing at attention by the servant’s door; while the others ran to and fro following the orders of their commander. Wasting no time he pulled a dagger from his boot and gripped it between his teeth. He glanced to the sky again and noticed that it was lightening; if he didn’t get out soon; he might not have the opportunity.
Gripping the gutter with both hands he swung his legs off and into the open air. Taking just a moment to re-adjust his soot covered hands grabbed the drainpipe and he began his descent. He paused whenever a guard marched past, lest the movement catch their eye. Finally on the ground the thief waited for one more guard to pass before slinking along the building towards his target. He knew this was going to hurt; but he also knew that this was the only way he was going to get out.
Creeping up right behind the rigid door guard the thief reached up to cover his mouth while slicing the man’s throat. In instant response he flinched at the pain of his own making and grimaced at what must be done. The Maiden exacted her tribute; though uncomfortable it wasn’t like he’d never experienced her touch before.
Pulling the struggling man into the bushes the thief quickly donned his bloodied surcoat and helm. The fellows shield went into his hand and he stood quickly back into his victim’s place as another soldier went past. Once he was gone the thief grabbed a nearby torch and turned towards the wall. He marched with a purpose; as though his commander had sent him this way in search of something. Other soldiers noted his presence, but did nothing to halt his progress. This was going to work out yet. As he neared the place he’d entered he extinguished his torch and grabbed the next nearest one doing the same to it. Acting quickly he donned his toe spikes and pulled on the matching handgrips. Looking back he could see a pair of soldiers walking towards him; obviously curious what their fellow was doing.
Without further hesitation the thief leaped up the pole, his spiked gloves and toes making short work of the pole. The guards were now shouting as the thief dropped the surcoat and gear and bowed before leaping calmly to the street below. Once there he made a mad dash into the nearest alley; quickly losing himself to the chaos of the waking city.
And there you have it. A short story that doubles as an intro to my Thieves Game. I've talked about it before, but I'm getting closer to trying it out. I'm thinking about running one in the Shorts section with fresh PCs built for the occasion. Feel free to comment either on the story itsself or the game potential; I'm all ears.
I've got flavor text for the world, but it's not important for the story. Catch you guys later.
