"So you're plan is to leave for days at a time and leave all of your accumulated wealth in a poorly defended shack--not to mention this shack is in one of the most crime-ridden cesspools this side of Evertrue?" Jagger's voice was laden with skepticism; he leaned against the wall, arms folded over his broad chest with one eyebrow raised in question.
"That's kind of the jist of it, yes. If you think I'm stupid enough to leave it all sitting out on the counter-top then you've not been paying attention for the past decade. Why do you care anyway? I would've thought you'd be happy to know there's a veritable bank in here." Aros was only half-joking: he would have no doubt that Jagger would make an attempt on the gold at some point. He didn't take it personally: old habits were hard to kick for street rats like them. Jagger stared at Aros; his eyes were wide with confusion, and more than a little bit of jealousy. It had been his dream to leave Eastway too when he was a boy, but those days had long passed.
"Well I figure its not me you'll have to worry about finding the stuff. Carla was always lighter on her feet than either of us, wasn't she?" Aros hadn't thought of the assassin until that moment, but the idea of her not knowing his new plan dampened his smile just a little bit. He would have to make sure to tell her. The thief absentmindedly played with the hilt of his antique rapier, tracing its jade embellishments with the tip of his finger. Jagger could tell something about what he had said struck a cord with Aros, as he knew disassociation to be a favorite method of his for hiding discomfort. He didn't have to ask though; he was aware that when they had last spoke, his two friends had thought themselves parting for good. "Look, when she comes back from her mission, I'll let her know how you're handling things. Might be a bit easier if I do it, eh?"
Aros smirked, "If you want to be the one to break it to her that she got all emotional for nothing, so be it." In response, Jagger clapped Aros upside the head, and made for the shack door. "You are right about one thing though, Jagger." Aros looked up at his friend, a familiar ambitious glint in his eyes.
"I certainly don't plan on leaving all my money in a poorly defended shack for very long. Soon I'll be rich enough to move to the north quarter. Then, street urchins will be stealing silverware from me! Ha!" Jagger cracked a smile, and pushed out of the door way. For the first time in a long time, he had begun to look at Aros with a different sort of respect. He wondered what he might've been if he had been so persistent.
***
30 Minutes Later
Aros felt the floor of the sewer wit his boot first, checkign to ensure there weren't any environmental hazards that might prompt an unwanted bath in the canal just a couple feet ahead. Sure that there weren't, and that he hadn't been followed, he made his way along the walls until he reached a familiar maintenance alcove that had been out of service since before his time in the city. Feeling his way through the dark, he peeled off one of the planks of wood to reveal a small lock-box. There was no key of course: he threw that away on purpose. Instead, anyone looking to open it would have to be as good a lock-pick as he was.
For a long time, the box had been empty. Memories of his youth came flooding back as he opened it: inside remained only a couple of dusty pennies and a couple of fake pearls. The sight of them was enough to cause him to wince. Not wanting to revisit the day that his team had split for their separate ways, Aros made quick work of depositing 500 of his 700 gold in the box, before resealing it and hiding it back behind the wall again.
To himself, Aros whispered, "I'm sorry, but I lied Jagger. I don't plan on keeping my money in an undefended shack at all."
***
1 Hour Later
For a time, he considered staying in the city. There was not much of anything for a man like him: a man unwilling to kill. That was the sad truth though: poverty begets desperation, and he knew all too well how tempting even a single meal could be in times of abject loss--tempting enough to change someone into something they weren't before. He knew he didn't have to fear Eastway's influence anymore so long as he continued to be successful in his journey. It only now became a matter of finding a place to go.
Earlier, Aros had met with some of the homeless children living in the Narrows. A far too dangerous place for childhood to blossom, but a good a place to squat as they were likely to find. Gangs ran the Narrows, which meant there was work for those willing to do it. Still, they were young enough to believe in a future outside the city walls, which was enough. He had found the smallest of them: matted-hair rascals wearing clothes two sizes too big, and covered int a fine layer of filth. The ones that had a light in their eyes and a smile on their faces despite their position. To those kids, he had spent the morning recounting the tale of the gorge, and after a time even the older kids--some of whom had already turned to crime to support their siblings--joined the discussion.
"Remember: I was much weaker than most of you when I was a kid, and not half so bright. You'll have to do what you can to keep each other safe, and I get that. Just don't lose sight of what you really want when you're out there picking pockets and swiping trinkets. If you want real shiny things, you need to get out and see the world." Aros paused, before pulling out 10g from the 200 he had kept in his inventory and giving one gold piece to each of the kids there. "I want your help too. My name is Aros, and I'm going to go all over the world until I make enough money to fix all this crap." He absentmindedly waved his hand towards the rest of the narrows as he spoke. "I need you little rats to go and listen for me. I frankly don't know where to go next, you see."
They had departed after that, and when they reconvened, many spoke to Aros of a merchant claiming to be from the northeast. The last survivor of a place known as the desecrated desert. A place of many lost caravans and expeditions that reportedly held many lost riches beneath its forgotten dunes.
"You've done well, kiddos." Standing, he brushed the dirt off his mail before handing out another 10g to the kids for their service. "While I'm gone, do me another favor, and spread the word that I'm an adventurer who's willing to take on any expedition. I don't care how dangerous or far the place may be." Aros smiled, tussled the hair of a couple of the cuter ones, and made for the north gate. He had a long day of travel, but to get as far as the desecrated desert he would need to travel by wagon. The best option, of course, would be to find the merchant the kids spoke of, and pay him to take him there.
***
Transactions:
-500g put into storage
-20g paid to urchins