A new beginning (Sam)

[Nyahna Sasin]

Timestamp: 82nd of Summer, 510 AV

Midday was always the best. With so many pickpockets around, there was no way for a victim who had been robbed to determine who had stolen his purse, as there were too many people "bumping" into him. On a particularly fat target, there would be several thieves following, and it was always a competition to see who'd get it first. Sasin loved it when that happened, as he could always follow and steal from the thief.

Unfortunately, this was not midday. This was in the morning, so he had to be careful. Which was why he was wearing clothes and a headband that were, to anyone who knew him, distinctly not him. He had a change of clothes in his bag, and planned on ducking into an empty alley and changing after a theft.

He found his target, a tall youngster, gazing longingly at the weapons stall while a woman, presumably his mother, was dragging him along. It was the same actions as always. Get around them, get the knife ready, walk by them, slit, catch, and volia. Instant purse.

He knew that he had a good few seconds before they would discover the theft. He had timed it so that they were just leaving the stall when he took their money. He didn't run. He walked, slowly and calmly towards an alley he knew would be deserted at this time. The second he was out of sight, he started jogging to the back alley. He knew better than to run by now. Humans were terribly slow, and the whole point was to blend in.

[Samuel Blackwell]

Even in the morning the crowds seemed too thick for Samuel's likings. She had hoped if she got to the bazaar early enough she could avoid squeezing between the sea of faceless people. Carefully she made her way through the crowds. She turned left, then right. She looked around for the the tea vendor the directions she got earlier were suppose to lead her too.

She was lost. Again.

'I don't think I'll ever get used to this place.' Sam thought in despair to herself. She began to scan the crowd for someone who wasn't too busy. Almost everyone seemed actively engaged with some vendor haggling or some company talking. Finally she saw a man with dark hair and a headband that seemed to be standing around waiting for someone. Pursing her lips in resolve Sam readjusted the pack on her back thinking how she should ask him for directions.

Suddenly the man walked by some people leaving a weapon vendor and cut their purse. If Sam hadn't had so much practice at sleight of hand she would have missed his deft hands snip the victim's strings and calmly snatch up the bag.

Not knowing what to do Sam continued on her path to the the cutpurse. She slowly crept along behind him like a shy child might. As the man began to jog lightly Sam was about to give up when she noticed he ducked into an alley. Sam's head was swirling with images of the honorable rogues her father used to tell her tales of. Her small frame tiptoed to the edge of the alley and her youthful hazel eyes peeked around the corner. Her naive mind half expected the thief to be handing over the money to some poor destitute vagabonds.

[Nyahna Sasin]

(A viper's jog is more like a human's sprint)

Poor Samuel would have been very disappointed, if she wasn't going to be so frightened. He had only just realized that he had been followed. The instance she poked her head around the corner, she found a knife at her throat.

"Don't breath a word." He hissed. He tugged her into the alley, and, keeping his knife at her throat, backed her into the wall.

"Who are you, and why were you following me?"

[Samuel Blackwell]

Her eyes went wide and her pupils shrank as she felt the cold steel at her soft neck. Samuel parted her lips as if do gasp in surprise but no sound came out. Thud - it would have hurt being pressed into the wall like that if she wasn't so surprised and distracted. Beneath her, her legs felt like noodles that would give at any moment. Her forehead began to sweat beneath her hood. Samuel contemplated if the man could tell she was a girl or not, and whether that revelation would help or hinder her situation. The man's sudden words shook her back to the harsh reality of the situation.

"Who are you, and why were you following me?"

The words entered her ears but as they did she looked into his eyes. Her dark green eyes were filled with wild fear. A reply formed itself in her head, but her throat would not cooperate. She tried for what seemed a short eternity to get the words out.

"I - I - I needed - dir -directions."

[Nyahna Sasin]

"I - I - I needed - dir -directions."

He narrowed his eyes. She sounded sincere enough, but there was no real way to tell. For all he knew, she could be a knight, a fellow thief, a rival, anything. He looked her over. She was female, that much was obvious. A human, with hair the wrong shade to be Inarta, with neither the bravery of the Myrians or the animalism of a kelvic. Her clothes were somewhat cheap and tattered. She had a tube of sorts around her back. He doubted she was anyone important. Just another human who would never be missed, if he was to kill her. Still. Information came first.

"You're not answering my question. Who are you?" He hesitated, then pressed on. He already had a knife to her throat. It didn't really matter if he incriminated himself of theft."And what have you seen?"

[Samuel Blackwell]

This was not the first time someone had pointed a weapon at Sam, however it is the first time her mortality had been so clearly defined. Paralyzed with fear the whole of her body pressed up against the wall as if hoping it would somehow swallow her. 'I'm too young to die,' she thought to herself, 'There's still so much I haven't done.' Her meek frame trembled at the image of her lying there dead as crimson poured from her neck.

Samuel swallowed to regain focus. Her eyes began to tear slightly. She somehow managed to speak with a soft meek voice through trembling lips. "I - I am Samuel Blackwell of Zeltiva, S - Sir. And I ain't seen n - nothing you didn't want me to see." She hoped her volunteering to keep her mouth shut would help her situation. Her chest rose and fell rapidly trying to keep pace with her constantly accelerating heart. She felt the large book shaped package against her back as she pressed into the wall. Knowing it was still there gave her an odd sort of comfort. Words came a little easier to her though her soft pink lips still trembled horribly, "If you're going to kill me do it. It's torture being pinned here and thinking about what I haven't yet done in life. The places I haven't scene. The people I haven't loved."

[Nyahna Sasin]

Sasin raised an eyebrow as she stammered. Smart girl. Still, they always said that, then went straight to the knights. Spending time in prison didn't appeal to him at all. A little more fear wouldn't hurt her. Much.

He chuckled darkly, letting a hint of a hiss into his voice. He had found his accent tended to unnerve people quite a bit, and he took advantage of that. His left hand settled on her shoulder, fingers resting over the sensitive area between arm and shoulder blade. "But of coursse. After all, there'ss nothing to sssee around here. No weaponss. No danger. Nothing." He grinned at her, showing his teeth. "On the other hand, if you happen to remember ccertain thingsss, and feel the pressssing need to tell ssomeone, do come and find me. It will make thingss a lot easier for you, believe me. I might even do it quickly. Even think of talking to the guardss, however, and there will be nothing left of you but a few smears, and a pile of bones. Maybe not even that."

Leaning in closer, he sqeezed her shoulder, digging his fingers. "Believe me, you don't want that to happen to you."

[Samuel Blackwell]

Pain shot through her nerves. Squeezing her eyes shut she threw back her head in pain with a sharp intake of breath. She was up on her tip toes now as flat as she could be against the wall. The faint hissing in his voice. It was an accent she was familiar with. Sam was a blind man groping in the dark for anything that might help her situation. She knew little of the snake tongue. Hopefully she could speak it well enough to not be insulting to him. It took all her concentration to speak snake-tongue as it wasn't a language built for her mouth. She began to hiss to the man in snake, "I am sorry lord. One thousand apologies I offer. Please - let me make up for my transgressions. I can offer skills you might find useful in an assistant or servant." She met his eyes for the first time, but this time her eyes were not filled with fear or terror. Just longing. Sam had yearned for something to change her life. An opportunity for her to shake off the dust of her boring safe existence. Her soft youthful hazel eyes looked into his pleading for him to do just that.

[Nyahna Sasin]

His eyes widened, then narrowed. A human, speaking the language of a snake? Was she really a human? Nothing in her demeanor had suggested anything else. And the way she addressed him as lord, there was no way she was from any of the nests. Still, a rouge, or a half blood.....

Loosening his grip on her shoulder, he sheathed his knife, and flipped her so she was facing the wall. "Closse your eyess, and don't move." He hissed. Glancing around, certain that no one else was there, he stripped, then shifted into his Dhani form.

"Turn" he told her. He came close to her, his tongue flicking out, tasting her. Scenting her. Nothing. She was human, through and through.

More interesting to him was her offer of assistance. He cocked his head to the side, wondering just how much she was hiding under that innocent demeanor of hers.

"And how, exactly, do you intend to assist me? What skills could you have that would make you useful to me?"

[Samuel Blackwell]

Sam winced when turned to face the wall. She half expect to feel a sharp stab or a blunt bludgeoning. Noticeable on her back was a large book shaped package wrapped in dusty and rough linen cloth. The book was enormous and seemed doubly so against her scrawny frame. When she was told to turn around she was only slightly surprised to see him now in his Dhani form. She could not help but flinch a bit at the flicker of his forked tongue. A lump formed in her throat as he spoke to her. Swallowing she took a moment to compose herself before answering. Sam then spoke with uncharacteristic confidence, "I have a basic grasp of the larcenous arts, I have a keen eye, I also know a little about the art of coded messages. If nothing else I could serve you as a personal courier and assistant." She hoped the facade of confidence would help her case. After a moment or two she added, "I know enough not to slow you down - and I am a fast enough learner I could be useful to you soon."