Open Finding a Thief

[Erekez]

10th Day of Spring, 513 AV "By the looks of it, you know how to throw a punch." The log had more signs of weapon damage than Erekez had in scars. The shopkeeper kept at least one lying around in the back of the store, as well as one show item of everything in his store. Apparently, he never believed that anyone could ever know if they were happy with a weapon without giving it a try first. So he usually took the worst-looking ones out of a bunch and offered them to people as a test piece. The log was so you had something to hit and get an idea of what it would feel like. Living things were softer than logs, but they'd also try and defend themselves. Chances were you'd hit something other than your target, most of the time, and that might cause problems for the wielder of the weapon. Such as losing feeling in your arm after a sword bounced off a shield. Erekez liked this storekeeper's thinking. Pulling the punch dagger out of the log, Erekez turned to the store owner. "Nice little weapon. Light, quick, deadly, effective. I'll take it." Erekez followed the owner back into the front of the store, placing the punch dagger down on the table where it had been handed to him. "You seem to appreciate the quality of a weapon." The owner noted, indicating the composite bow Erekez had slung over his shoulders, as he returned the show dagger to its rightful place. "Anything that has been built with quality is sure to last longer than anything that has been thrown together." Erekez replied, watching as the owner turned back to him. He was well-built, probably from training with his own weapons. What else is there to do to pass the time in a weapon's store? "True, very true." He tapped his fingers on the tabletop, looking as if he were considering something quite heavily. "At the cost of sounding like a proper businessman, and trying to scrounge more money out of you, how would you prefer the material to be cold iron, rather than normal steel?" He gave Erekez a weighted look, almost as if he was trying to guess his answer. Erekez responded with mild confusion. "Isn't iron worse than steel? They're likely to rust and become unusable very quickly." Why would the owner suggest a worse weapon when he'd already shown he was happy with a better weapon. Erekez thought back over his question. It's implied that cold iron is better than steel, but iron is actually worse than steel. Is there a difference between iron and cold iron? The owner smiled at him. "Ordinary iron is, you are quite right. Cold iron is also called 'cold steel'. I'm not too sure why it's called iron but it is. Cold iron, or steel if you prefer, holds its edge longer than ordinary steel, and is more durable because of that. It's a better material in every aspect, not considering price. People also say that it does more damage against the undead. The only better, practical material, is Isurian steel. Unfortunately, that is very hard to come by, and I don't have any Isurian steel weapons at all." "Cold iron can still be used on the living with better performance than steel?" The owner nodded. "Then more damage to undead is a bonus. I don't really intend on crossing an undead any time soon. How much extra?" The owner pursed his lips. It seemed it always went very well up until the price was mentioned. "Cold iron triples the price." He said very quickly. "So a two-gold punch dagger would become a six-gold dagger. You're looking at an extra four gold mizas." Erekez shrugged his shoulders. He didn't see the problem. It wasn't as bad as he'd thought. "Any tool is worth its price if it does its job properly. I'll take a cold iron punch dagger, if you don't mind." The owner smiled at him again as he went round back to fetch the weapon. --- How long has this been out of sunlight? Erekez kept running his fingers over the blade. All heat seemed to be sucked out of his fingertips, leaving an icy feel to the metal. It didn't seem to matter how much sun it got, the dagger always seemed to stay cold to the touch. Probably why it's called cold iron. It was his mistake to walk down a city's streets without paying attention. Erekez felt a sharp pull on his bow from behind, dragging him into an alley. He spun to get a look at the one who grabbed him, only momentarily catching a glimpse before his assailant threw something into his eyes. Whatever it was, it started to burn, causing them to water heavily as it glazed his vision over completely. Erekez grunted. Some had gotten in his mouth from how it was thrown. Salt! Erekez brought his fist up, still holding the punch dagger. He couldn't see anything, but he felt something being hit and ripped. Erekez barged forward, feeling his shoulder connect with something or someone, and threw it backwards. He could hear something in the background crashing. Now, he stood still, blinking and rubbing his eyes, trying to get the salt out of them. The sound of somebody running at him made Erekez stop, only to to be punched in the stomach and have his dagger ripped from his hand. The guy ran away as Erekez fell over, gasping for air. The attack confused Erekez. Why go through the trouble of stealing a six-gold punch dagger? Probably because my bow was secure and he didn't want to leave empty handed. Erekez slowly pulled himself up off the ground. His eyes still burned from the salt. That was a clever trick. Slowly, they started to clear up, and Erekez became more annoyed at the realisation that his new dagger had just been stolen. This is why I hate cities. You always need to be on your guard at every turn. The first thing Erekez recognised as his vision cleared was the pool of blood that was slowly seeping into the stonework of the floor. He ran his fingers through it, letting Lykata read what it could. Erekez smiled as luck appeared to be with him today. This theft was an initiation into something, so it didn't look like what he stole was important, just that he showed he could. Even more valuable was the name the Lykata revealed. Nayro Vawn.

[Ohirin]

Ohirin was walking down the streets of Zeltiva, past one of the weapons shops, when he was shoved by a man running out of an alleyway. Unusual, why would he be running? Ohirin thought as the man ran off, bumping into a few people as he went. The man he saw was acting like a man who had done something wrong. It took Ohirin a minute to notice a small spot of blood on the ground where the man had been running, very fresh blood. It didn’t take long for Ohirin to lose sight of the man. Defiantly weird, Ohirin thought.

When Ohirin took a look down the alleyway he saw a man low to the ground next to a puddle of what looked like blood. Oh, oh God. Ohirin thought and took off at a run to the man, reaching him in a few seconds.

“Are you okay?”

Ohirin yelled when he was half way down the alley. Ohirin took a look around the alley but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Ohirin quickly knelt down beside the man, not waiting for a reply, and avoided the blood. The blood here was practically the same as the spot on the road.

[Erekez]

Erekez looked up at the voice calling to him, watching as the man ran over and crouched beside him. "I'm fine thanks, but I need to get moving quickly. Sorry." Lykata had already revealed everything it could to him. If this thief was acting under some sort of initiation, it was safe to assume that he was working as part of a group. The best place to start would be the home of thieves then, East Street. Pushing himself to his feet, Erekez began to make his way to the end of the alleyway. He had a name, but he doubted it was going to be easy to find someone who would know the name, let alone give away details about him if they did. This was going to be an interesting hunt. He was unaware if the big man who came to his aid would want to follow him, neither did Erekez care really. He had something he needed to do, and he was going to do it, regardless of who tagged along. The extra help might be useful, but it also meant there would be one more person Erekez would need to keep his eye on. He wouldn't turn away help, but he'd be cautious of it. Neither was he going to ask for any help. Wiping the blood from his fingers along the wall of the building, Erekez check to see if his bow and quiver were securely attached. Once he was satisfied they were, he believed himself ready to make a start for East Street.