Of Thievery and Honest Work

[Verona]

The thought that there was honor among thieves was only true in a sense. Separate thieves would cut anyone's throat for the right score. A band of thieves come together, though - there lies the honor and loyalty of tales of old. Once together, committing terrible deeds separate or together, on their own or for hire, no one and nothing could wiggle their way between a bond so strong. And no one should ever try to get between thieves. Attempting to pick off one, knowingly or unknowingly, is a very dangerous game.

Camellia was small and weak and kind, and when some men thought that her a tiny, fragile lamb to their wolves, they often found themselves in hard straits. Such was the case in the city Halm, of the kingdom of Jorrel. Far from a child needing constant watching, Camellia had been sent off to pick out from the market whichever foods or herbs she desired to take with them in their travels, while the others were off gathering their own supplies as per usual. It was there that she was set upon by a lecherous man intent on taking her home with him, through intimidation rather than the broken charm he tried to possess. If Archer hadn't shown up to declare he'd been looking for her forever and walked her away, perhaps he would have dragged her off after all.

And yet, as quiet an affair as it was, it was far from over. He had only touched the tip of a very frigid iceberg.

The next day, in the middle of a sparsely populated but still lively enough market square, while the man was speaking to some of his compatriots, a small, unassuming 'woman' appeared behind him as if out of thin air, and cracked the handle of a dagger against the back of his neck before he could so much as follow the gaze of his companions behind him.

Wist watched expressionlessly as the man collapsed slowly and then all at once to the ground, sliding his knife back into concealment. ". . . Gotcha."

Ignoring the protests of the man's compatriots, Wist knelt to tie a length of cloth around the man's eyes for whenever he should wake, fully expecting Kappali to show up and shove the others aside, as he did. Just that show of strength was enough to make them pause, and by the time they'd gathered themselves and thought to make another attempt at stopping the strange pair, the blindfolded man was already over Kappali's shoulder, and Wist was holding his knife again. It was only a second after the first sword was drawn that the potential attacker's hand was sliced open at the palm, with hardly a flicker of visible motion on Wist's part.

They walked away without further interference after that, and after waiting a moment or two for the commotion to start Archer slid away from the crowd where he'd been watching. It was easy work crossing through unused streets and back alleys to get ahead of Kappali, Wist, and their burden, and meet them near the edge of town.

"Smoothly done!" He said with a grin as they approached, clapping his hands a few times as if to praise them when he'd known the job would go exactly as planned. He'd made the plan, after all. "Now. Let's go while he's still sleeping like a hairy, disgusting baby."

 

[Cicatrix]

Catri rested his head on the table before him with a sigh. He sat in the private library of his mentors, where he had spent the day digging through the collection, but to no avail. Each book contained no more than a few relevant sentences at most. Although the library was quite full, it would offer him no help that day.

Of the rooms within Catri's new home, the library was his favorite. It was full of texts collected by the five mages that built the haven. With so few magic users in the area, upon finding each other the five mages decided to establish a place where they could mentor those with the gift of magic. Catri was one of the students they had taken in.

The home sat high upon a hill, overlooking the city just a few miles away. Catri had moved in with his mentors the previous month, eager to seriously study magic with instructors and books around him constantly. His room was humble, one of three built with live-in apprentices in mind. Along with those there were five larger, more decorated rooms, in which the mentors lived. They had a kitchen area as well, and a large dining space. Behind the building there was a large courtyard where the apprentices often practiced, alone or with each other. Near this, there was the garden in which they grew most of their food.

Just beyond this area was the stable and pastures. Three of the mages, Catri, and one other apprentice had their own horses, which lived there. The stable had ten stalls and opened up to the fields, which covered just over twenty acres. Just outside the doors facing the open land was a water trough, and in the valley below there was a small pond.

"Auuuuuugh." Catri moaned. He adjusted his arms, sending a pile of books toppling to the floor. The impacts rattled his brain. With a sigh, he made his way to the floor to pick them up and carefully return them to the desk. His head throbbing, he sat himself back at his desk and looked out the window.

"Oh gods, it can't really be that late, can it?" Taking a deep breath, he shuffled over to the window to investigate, and found that it was dusk. He looked back at his books with dismay, his eyelids heavy.

"An entire day, wasted." He said, frowning at the books.

"Catri?" The voice made him jump, "Don't tell me you've been here all day." It was his fellow apprentice, Renna. Big brown eyes stared at him, and he couldn't tell if she was concerned or amused.

"I think I have." He replied, stretching.

"Did you even eat?" Renna made her way to the piles of books he had amassed and began to pick them up, holding them as if they might shatter in her arms. As she put them each away, she kept glancing back at him.

"I… uh… no, I do not think I did… oops." Catri was suddenly aware of his empty stomach. He had gotten so caught up in his reading that he had not stopped to think of food or water.

"Well then," Renna remarked, "you should probably go do that." Smiling softly, she brought his bag to him.

"I think that would be best."

"And then go to bed, you look like death."

"I will," he said with a weary smile, "thank you, Renna."

"You are welcome." She began to shoo him out of the library. "Now go take care of yourself, you will never improve your skills if you keep forgetting to eat and sleep!"

"Right." He stopped in the door frame, "what about Fawn?" He suddenly remembered his mare.

"Do not worry about her, I asked Alinar if he could while he was out there with his stallion, and he was happy to. Now go, don't make me walk you all the way out myself!"

"Alright, alright. Good night, Renna."

"Good night, Catri. I will see you tomorrow."

 

[Verona]

It was a short trip into the thick of the woods from the edge of town, and Archer didn't stop walking until they were far enough that even screams wouldn't carry far enough for others to hear. Carefully and quietly, Archer got down to the unconscious man's level and slowly and methodically broke six of his ten fingers, and one of his wrists. The pain woke him, a fourth of the way through, but gagged as he was his screams didn't carry far. Archer spoke to him lowly and warningly, and told him that if he ever tried to take advantage of a woman ever again he would be back to cut off the limbs and phalanges he had broken.

As frowned upon as using magic for 'nefarious' purposes was, Archer almost didn't let Wist do anything at all, but when the tied man only spat at them in defiant response Archer relented. He and Kappali stepped away, and Wist moved silently closer to leave the man waking nightmares that would haunt him for weeks to come. Only when the man was well and truly subdued did they untie him and leave him there, with warnings not to come back to town.

Back in town, the group of three and their wolf companion met up with Mora and Camelia again, the green-haired mage smiling and pleasant as always despite the terrible things that had almost happened to her. They reconvened and discussed what supplies they would need, and how long they would stay in town to see if there was any work.

Wist was quiet and observant when they were looking through shops and stalls. Silent and light on his feet as he was, he was often ignored, and for the most part it was just his nature, not anything with intention. In this moment, though, there was more intentional observations going on.

Archer turned at the sound of a startled shout to see the small, for the most part unimposing Wist holding the tip of a knife right up again the front of a man's neck, eyes narrowed and promising blood should the man move. "He was stealing." The small mage said, quiet but intense. "His inner jacket pockets."

Archer only smiled and walked up with an expansive shrug, as if to tell the man he couldn't do much about the knife. "Perhaps you should empty your pockets, sir. It would be a shame if he were to do it for you."