Solo Storage Skulduggery

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A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

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Storage Skulduggery

Postby Alric Lysane on November 5th, 2021, 1:00 pm


40th Fall 521 AV - Storage Houses - Night

Alric sighed into the night, not really wanting to do what he planned to do but knowing that there were few choices in the city for someone who made a living off of odd jobs and a certain amount of thievery. He tried to cycle the places and times that he worked the latter, hence why he was standing upon the edge of the Storage Houses. He wasn’t fool enough to be attempting to get into the warehouses, though that would likely be more lucrative. As well as being more deadly. No, he was after a few stray dogs of the small-time gangs that called the area home.

Easier to steal from the already criminal than from the…upstanding citizens he told himself with a frown, amusement tickling him but the seriousness of the night winning out.

There was little else to do except step into the first alley of the night and get on with it. He kept to the side where possible, stepping over broken crates and smaller barrels, trying with all his not too high level of skill to keep his back to the walls so as not to face surprise. His footfalls were not fully silent, instead small crackles with each slow step were dull and not easily heard but still present – he needed more practise. He didn’t mind slowing himself down though, so long as he didn’t die, and he had all night…he hoped. The first corner came with multiple directions and he crouched down, pulling his cloak about him and listened. He glanced around the tightest corner cautiously and saw nothing, the darkness across the others wasn’t broken with torchlight and so he knew not what they held.

Keeping a watch out and his breath as shallow and quiet as possible he listened for a time and eventually caught what he wanted to catch, footsteps. It didn’t matter which ones they were – guard or gang – because either way he got what he wanted. He strained his hearing, tracking it as best he could as it grew closer, realising it was coming from the tightest corner and hurriedly shuffling back with no grace and some small noise against his will. He was a few feet back from the corner now, but the footsteps had stopped their squelching.

He waited. After some chimes they started up again, getting louder until they burst into the crossroads and paused. Alric watched as the darker shape turned and twisted – looking for what it had heard. It seemed to look at him directly through the darkness and he held his breath involuntarily. After what seemed like too long it left down another alley and he breathed again, pushing himself up to start the task of following the figure that he now knew was from a gang or unaffiliated. Guards would have not cared about being caught, they had weapons and armour.

The figure was still barely visible as a darker shade of black as Alric followed, trying to keep his footfalls silent and again his back against the walls of wooden shacks, stone warehouses and whatever else had been cobbled together for some purpose or other. As he went he tried to match footfalls with the stranger where possible to disguise himself further. He was slightly out of sync however as he also had to try to catch up. It was a slow and laborious task as he crept closer, a half-foot every so often, pausing when the figure paused. He wasn’t stealthy to be true but the one he followed seemed to be even less so for which he thanked Yshul. It was as another crossroads seemed to loom up that he found himself within the right distance and he dashed forwards.

Surprise and speed counted for more than tactics in this sort of fight. He closed the distance within a few strides and just as the figure turned around to see what the noise was. Alric rammed into them, shoulder dipping at the last moment to plant itself into the stranger’s sternum, arms coming around to scoop the legs and pick them up before smacking them back-first into a wall behind them. Or that was the idea at least, the execution left a lot to be desired, only getting one leg and then forcing a sort of high-speed hop to the wall.

Either way the result was the same, the stranger hit it hard enough to drive the breath from them and create the opening. Alric let go, half-stepped back and hit them three times with straight blows – jab, cross, cross – to the face and they fell into him, sliding off and to the floor as he stepped aside and grabbed their jacket to ease the landing somewhat. They still hit hard and he froze.

For a chime all was still and he listened, ready to run if backup seemed imminent. There was none it seemed and the sprawled lump of a figure didn’t seem to be getting back up.

Crouching down he searched and frisked as quickly as he could, he wanted to be away as soon as possible. He felt a pouch and undid the leather belt, simply pulling it off and putting it around his own waist, not stopping to search the contents more deeply and leaving it to Ovek to decide. He found little else of interest and so dragged the body to lie flush against the wall and made his way off at a quick walk for a chime or two before stopping once more to catch his breath.

He took a few chimes to let his heart stop racing and his breath to return back to normal from the quicker breathing after the charge. His legs had already begun to ache with the effort or careful stepping and a lot of crouching. His knuckles ached from their impacts and he rubbed them a few times to ease them. At least he hadn’t had his arms wrenched with the falling body.

Last edited by Alric Lysane on November 12th, 2021, 7:45 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Alric Lysane
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Storage Skulduggery

Postby Alric Lysane on November 5th, 2021, 1:55 pm

He found a corner to hunker down in and tried to settle himself. Just because the first encounter had been more successful than had been hoped for that didn’t mean that he was out of the woods yet. Truthfully he didn’t expect to make much on this outing, not enough to change the status of his life. A handful of copper, and if he were lucky silver, was all he really hoped for. Still it’d keep his hearth warm and his clothing in reasonable repair and if that was all he got then he would call it a success. His chest stopped heaving as much before his heart came back to a more reasonable rhythm and his ears stopped rushing. His gloved hands before him trembled slightly, they always did when he was going about Larceny.

Stress I suppose he told himself as he crossed his arms and cloak about himself.

He didn’t see a reason to stay where he was but as always caution was best and he listened for a fifty count before pushing himself up and making his was further down the dingy alleyway and towards the next crossing of the warrens that were the heart of Sunberth. He kept his eyes open, searching this way and that, and his ears strained. Each step seemed to take an age as he made his way slowly, trying not to make a noise. At least he was getting his money’s worth from Itzen, she had taught him to move on the balls of his toes to fight. He had discovered that at times it could make your step softer too.

Perhaps he had been too preoccupied with his footsteps, or perhaps he had just been foolish, but as he peeked around the next corner all he saw was blackness. The blackness of a figure. He looked up a bit and as he did so what he thought were their eyes met his from behind its hood.

Shyke was all he thought as he jumped back and stepped back a couple of paces. There was just laughter, from more than one voice.

Shykeshykeshyke he thought as he turned and went to run but his knee smacked into a crate he had passed and there was splintering of wood.

He desperately pulled at the wood, a piece coming off in his hands, and when free of the cursed blockage ran anyway. He knew that he was probably going to be caught and he could hear even over his laboured breathing that the footsteps behind him were closing. But he was a Sunberthian and survival was in his blood. He rounded a corner, skidding a bit before putting his back to it, readying the wood and waiting…waiting…lashing it out at head height into the first figure. They went sliding and Alric was triumphant for a tick before a second figure smashed into him and they both went sprawling into the dirt.

There was no real skill to what they did, it was mostly about who could knee, elbow, slap, bite and whatever else the best. He wasn’t a warrior but he knew how to fight dirty and knew it was impossible to not get hurt. He just made sure the other couldn’t use a weapon if they had them. He headbutt, kneed the groin and grabbed at the wrists to try to hold them away. In turn he got a good headbutt back himself and a knee to the ribs. As they rolled and his back found the ground he bridged up and used the leverage to throw the figure off of him. He pushed himself up with a groan and shook his head, he would feel his forehead in the morning but at least his nose wasn’t broken. He’d have bruises for days though. The other figure was up now though a bit slower and walking funny from the groin pain – Alric had been lucky there, it was a man and he winced at that walk.

Still the man came on as thankfully his partner still lay slumped on the ground from the blow to the head. That was lucky as he was already feeling his breathing get harder and his body aching with the pains of the fight. Adrenaline masked much of it but he knew he’d feel it later.

This was the part when they both fought properly, initial lucky blows over and skill now in play – or lack thereof. The man closed with a growl and Alric backed away, hitting the wall and then rolling away just in time to miss a fist and the yelp of the man. He kicked out at the man’s knee – a harsh target he knew but he had little in the way of time and survival beat fair play. The man’s leg buckled slightly as Alric’s heel stamped into it but he still lashed out as he whirled around, fist blocked by Alric’s left forearm at the last minute, but still forcing him back with the rage and power. He felt his forearm numbing slightly and his fingers flexed experimentally, they were slightly tingling and a bit sluggish.

Shyke

Last edited by Alric Lysane on November 12th, 2021, 8:03 pm, edited 1 time in total.
~ Thanks to Gossamer/Shiress for post Boxcodes ~
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Alric Lysane
Carry On My Wayward Son
 
Posts: 763
Words: 1010203
Joined roleplay: October 29th, 2021, 5:41 pm
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Storage Skulduggery

Postby Alric Lysane on November 5th, 2021, 2:40 pm



It was a scrappy affair after that, the alley was not that large and left little room to manoeuvre about each other. Which left just a hard slog and the last one standing. The man was slightly bigger but he was slower, that much was clear after he lunged and struck out with a right that Alric moved under and stepped aside.

He didn’t really want to get inside the man’s reach but he knew also that showing his back would be suicide. The man looked down towards his belt and his hand moved just before Alric dived forwards, knocking the incoming jab aside and grabbing at the other wrist. He shoved and the mud gave way, sending them both into the side of the alley as Alric tried to get whatever weapon the man had gone for out of his grip, fingers grabbing at the man's wrists and forcing it down to stop the draw.

A broadsword it turned out to be, which was a bad thing as swords couldn’t be grabbed. There was a wrestle and they each blocked and hit out with their free arm as best they could. Both got in some hits but the tangle continued. They were moving about the alley now, step by jerky step, muscles straining. This was why he hated weapons, they just weren’t fair. He spat in the man’s eyes as a last ditch effort as he felt his grip weakening and the man shouted and was distracted long enough that a punch to the forearm helped release the grip on the sword hilt.

Alric threw it away as hard as he could just in time to get a punch to the jaw that sent him back a step with blood in his spit from a cut lip. He shook his head and turned, pushing the man away as he tried to finish him off, the momentum giving some breathing space. He spat at the ground and promised himself he wouldn’t be doing this again this season. He waited, blinking away a watery eyes, and after a few ticks the man charged again. Alric dropped and tangled their legs together, both of them sprawling as he scrambled to jump atop the man and smacked his elbow down as many times as it took to bring some stillness.

After a chime waiting to see if it was over Alric slumped to the side and rolled off of the man, groaning all the while. Speed was essential but he didn’t feel very fast. He felt aching and tired. He pushed himself up and searched them both – he might as well get something out of the suffering – and after stuffing whatever little solid objects came to his hands into the pouches or belts he made his way away from the scene, grabbing the sword that had been flung away and limping slightly, propping himself up against the wall every so often. There would be no more larceny this night, or fighting, it had been proven that when it came to being a fighter he still had some way to go and his mistake with sneaking had cost him in the first place.


Last edited by Alric Lysane on December 5th, 2021, 12:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.
~ Thanks to Gossamer/Shiress for post Boxcodes ~
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Alric Lysane
Carry On My Wayward Son
 
Posts: 763
Words: 1010203
Joined roleplay: October 29th, 2021, 5:41 pm
Race: Human
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Medals: 2
Mizahar Grader (1) Overlored (1)

Storage Skulduggery

Postby Alric Lysane on November 5th, 2021, 4:23 pm



It was a slow journey as he made his way towards what he thought was the ends of the Storage Houses, again keeping to the sides and trying to make as little noise as possible. Made more difficult by his aches and pains it took him twice as long to make the same distance. Still, he would rather live and he was not in the best shape for another fight. He thankfully heard no pursuit or alerted discovery of the scene he had left behind and so felt reasonably happy about not having another bout on his hands.

He took corners far more cautiously now, picking up a handful of pebbles as he went and listening for twice as long before throwing a pebble in the opposite direction to see if there were any reactions. He had managed four corners without incident before he saw light glowing at the end of one alley. Dropping the rest of the tiny stones he waited for a few chimes with no activity before hurrying towards the light and stepped into the Castle Commons.

“Thank the gods for that. Yshul, Akajia and Ovek may you ever smile upon me” he muttered to himself as he looked around to get his bearings and started to pace to his right, realising where he was and where home would be
.
It was a slow but uneventful journey. As he walked properly and loosened up his muscles and had no need to bend over for concealment, he found that life started to come back to most of his body. Some area still had pain after the numbness had passed but not as much as he had feared and not enough to mean he would be unable to do anything in the coming days. He would rest anyway, it was best to leave time between excursions so as not to bring too much ire to one’s self. His jaw hurt the most but that was expected. His tongue probed the teeth on that sides and at least found that they were all present and seemed to be okay.

Blessed indeed he thought as he made his way through the streets and at last found his door and entered his shack abode.

Pulling up a floorboard he dumped everything but the belt below, which he kept on, and replaced the board. He would check it all tomorrow. It was best not to keep too much of an eye upon what he ‘found’ too often anyway as it tempted him to spend it. Added to which was the fact that often it took several excursions to even scrape enough together that would interest a fence or shopkeeper for purchase or exchange. No, it would take a little more of the season to make the hoard below him worth properly investigating beyond the bulky and difficult items – not that he remembered any being down there at present but there had been before.

“One day, if the gods allow, I’ll be more successful and less injured,” he sighed, “but not this day”

He sat for a time in dingy darkness, frowning at a future that seemed too far away before barking a laugh and beginning to lay out wood and kindling for a fire. If he was going to be miserable, he might as well be warm whilst doing it he reasoned. Besides which he could do with a smoke.


~ Thanks to Gossamer/Shiress for post Boxcodes ~
User avatar
Alric Lysane
Carry On My Wayward Son
 
Posts: 763
Words: 1010203
Joined roleplay: October 29th, 2021, 5:41 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
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Medals: 2
Mizahar Grader (1) Overlored (1)

Storage Skulduggery

Postby Alric Lysane on January 6th, 2022, 7:44 am



Your Grades


Alric Lysane

Skills

Brawling – 2
Endurance - 2
Observation – 3
Running - 2
Stealth – 3
Weapon: Unarmed - 2

Lores

Brawling: The Dump Tackle
Brawling: The Headbutt
Stealth: Crouched Movement
Stealth: Keep Breath Shallow
Stealth: Matching Footsteps
Sunberth: Storage Houses

Items Gained

Leather Belt & Pouch – 15gm value added to Ledger
Broadsword & Scabbard

Various Cuts, Scrapes & Bruises - 10 days to fully heal



~ Thanks to Gossamer/Shiress for post Boxcodes ~
User avatar
Alric Lysane
Carry On My Wayward Son
 
Posts: 763
Words: 1010203
Joined roleplay: October 29th, 2021, 5:41 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Journal
Plotnotes
Medals: 2
Mizahar Grader (1) Overlored (1)


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