Afternoon of the 90th of Fall, 511 AV.
"Another day in Sunberth. A beautiful day. Those should be enjoyed while they last, after all, winter is on the verge of arrival," the thoughts crossed Prustian's mind whilst observing the market and looking for his next victim. He had, after all, to put some food on the table and alcohol down his throat. "It's a beautiful day for pickpocketing. I can't wait to feel these pockets heavy with shiny metal." He was wearing his usual outfit, good enough to blend into the crowd and move swiftly at the same time. Both of those were a requirement for this job, at least with Lievdarg's limitations on his ability. He knew he was not perfect in his ability of a pickpocket, but he could work on improving it. Many had perfected this art before him, he could get there someday as well.
And a bustling day in the market it was, the stench of fish was strong in the air, shops were once again open after the fighting from a few days prior, and everything was back to usual. It was a perfect setting for his endeavors, easy to get away from the view if necessary. His eyes quickly spotted some potential victims: A man wearing a mantle with pockets standing in a corner, a woman in a not-so-fancy dress observing the goods in a stand and a taller man wearing rags walking amidst the crowd. "A mantle, the joy of winter came early this year! The more straps they wear, the easier it is to steal and not be noticed. But he's hard to reach, maybe I could wait for him to leave his spot. Or perhaps I could try stealing from that woman, she seems distracted enough. But this other man..." he silenced his thoughts and began observing the tall man and started to notice something curious about him, "He is always groping his right pocket." It's hard to get too good loot in Sunberth, as most people already expect to be stolen from anyways. There was true potential on carefully choosing a victim, this is something Lievdarg knew too well, and this man seemed promising to him, "He has something in there, I know he does! But still, he dresses so poorly. Maybe he believes that it's possible to draw away the attention from thieves by dressing poorly? That'd be folly." His feet swiftly moved among the passers-by to get closer to the man. He hoped he was right, as the other targets were clearly easier to steal from.
Reaching him was not quite easy still. Lievdarg had to dodge quite a few individuals before getting close enough, and that required some heavy footwork, something he still did quite poorly. It took him quite a while to get within the reach to grab his precious treasure from the man's pocket, but how would he do it? He needed some distraction, something to draw away the man's attention. He clearly seemed to be quite worried about the contents of his pocket, it would not be so easy to get him to focus somewhere else for a change. Lievdarg needed luck. Thieves need luck above all, there is always the chance something will go wrong, or perhaps the treasure turns out not to be so worthy of his efforts at all. Lievdarg was not master of larceny, he needed the distraction, and the sun shone on his favor that day.
Suddenly a whole pile of iron pans fell down on the floor from a stand to the west, making a horrible noise. The man got quite surprised. Lievdarg did not know what had happened, and nor did he care. All that he knew is that it was exactly what he needed to grab whatever was in that pocket and get away as soon as possible. His fingers moved swiftly and a pouch quickly slipped from the pocket into his hands. He then disappeared into the crowd, and could hear the man yelling about having lost his pouch just a few moments later. Gladly Lievdarg was out of view already, and by opening the pouch and tossing its contents on his palm he could feel the cold touch of coin. "There is nothing like the feeling of some heavy coin in the palm." After checking on the coins, he threw them back into the pouch and placed it into his own pocket. Maybe that would pay for his lunch and perhaps a few drinks in the tavern.
He kept on walking, looking for more victims. There were plenty indeed, and many drawing Lievdarg's attention. "Attention...isn't that what thieves seek? Distracted people, like I currently am." And while the whole idea crossed his mind he realized that sometimes the predator becomes the prey. His pocket was empty once more. But the thief stealing from his was not successful, at least not wholly, as he had been noticed by Lievdarg before getting away. He was running, not trying to hide. "What an amateur," Lievdarg thought, and he then remembered something about an old proverb his father once told him about those who steal from thieves. He could not quite remember how it was, and he certainly could not afford to spend time there daydreaming about it. His feet began moving, it was time to chase this thief and get what rightfully belonged to Liev back in his pockets.
Once more, watching the footwork, dodging people, "What a terrible location to be stolen from!" Wasn't that the whole reason Lievdarg had come there in the first place? He was foolish not to pay attention, but now he had to correct his mistake while it was still possible. The thief hardly expects to become the one stolen from, but in Sunberth all was possible. "What a terrific city," he thought, while running after the cutpurse. And after a couple minutes he was still running after the thief. Perhaps it would have been more profitable to stop and just keep looking for more people to steal from, but that's something his pride certainly would never allow. This was now a competition, between the two pickpockets. "May the best one win."