[Great Bazaar, Solo Training Thread] Count Some Coin...

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This shining population center is considered the jewel of The Sylira Region. Home of the vast majority of Mizahar's population, Syliras is nestled in a quiet, sprawling valley on the shores of the Suvan Sea. [Lore]

[Great Bazaar, Solo Training Thread] Count Some Coin...

Postby Paltra Immuran on August 20th, 2010, 1:14 am

510 AV, 79th Day, Summer--Fourth Floor, Bazaar

The Bazaar. A burgeoning place filled to the brim with people. If ever there was a place where one could find almost anything to buy--slaves, exotic toxins, weapons, or food(or perhaps a combination of all four if you went to the right place)--provided you had the weight of pocket to pay for such commodities. While Paltra wasn’t dirt poor, he wasn’t filthy rich either. He didn’t like being so far from either end, too much uncertainty in life. Such things made him uneasy, often distracting him from his pursuits… made him do some pretty crazy things too.

For example, trying to pick-pocket in a dense and crowded area in the Syliras Capital city, which was entirely sealed in. Normally, being in a dense and crowded place was good, easy to escape. But here, it was almost suicidal to do it, since there weren’t as many places to run to. You couldn’t keep going in one direction and know that you’d find a patch of dense wilderness or the desert and be safe. Paltra hadn’t fathomed that such a thing could be achieved, housing as many as 50,000 people in a castle. But, as unlikely and daunting as the notion was… well… all one had to do would be to look around at the stony walls and know that it was no joke, nor an exaggeration. He sighed, rolling his shoulders back and forth slowly, working out the muscles a bit in case he needed to run.

Paltra stepped slowly into the river of clothes and haggling beings. His hood was pulled close down upon his head, wearing the cloak that he had bought before his journey had begun. The Sash, wrapped at the shoulders and then going down and wrapping the waist, was pulled up slightly to help conceal his features. He recalled that he had a mask in his pack, not that he’d be dumb enough to try to put it on without invoking even more suspicion. He guessed that if someone was seen wearing a mask as well as having a sword on his hip, then they would likely be reported to the guard. He probably was already, which was exactly why he was trying to remain fluid, ever moving. He couldn’t fathom the movements of the guards, but he could guess at what they were like. The mind of Paltra Immuran was a sharp one, after all, otherwise he would have died a great deal of time ago. Nevertheless, he was hardly there long enough to have really done any real research on the Knights, nor to begin to grasp their values, the way they operated. If he could obtain that, then maybe he could manage to figure them out, and wage his own personal picking-spree right under their noses and not be caught…

If they didn’t have people that were similar to him, heck, he pondered that if anything, he’d be the one cornered if he wasn’t careful. As he walked though, he made sure to mentally note where he could turn, a predestined path that he could take to flee from a Knight, or to escape from sight if he managed to pick-pocket someone. Or if he failed, either one…

One left, one right, forward once, sharp right into side path, minimal light… perfect hiding place… He recounted the path back to the alleyway, pleased that he remembered it so well. He looked around though, knowing that the Bazaar was a strange place to be within, paths created by the merchants and their customers made an ever shifting crowd. Even so though, one could usually put their arms out half-way and not risk hitting someone, or even be able to spin and still not hit someone. Though, in more crowded areas it was another story. People just trying to get by, some impatient. Bumping was an ordinary occurrence, and when distracted, or when tempers were high already, people tended no to notice the little things, like a few fingers dipping into your pocket…

Paltra began moving with a large crowd, seeing the crowd squeeze together, blending with those that were going in another direction. He let out a breath, leaning his head down as though he were hanging his head in shame. Paltra let his motions flow, his body feeling loose as he looked up briefly, mentally marking a target. A slight smirk laid upon his face as they neared one another.

Just a few more steps… He thought smugly to himself. In a second, they were side-by-side, and Paltra nudged against the man, trying to dip his fingers into his pocket…

Paltra came away from it after a single try though, having missed the pocket. His smug look and grin had vanished to reveal a look of utter irritation.

“Damn-it… so close…” he whispered to himself, continuing his walk, now picking up speed slightly in case the man may have noticed the attempt for his belongings. It was a failed attempt, but there were plenty of targets abound. Paltra breathed a sigh, continuing his pace to make another round to reset the trap without turning around out-right. It would be too suspicious if he did it, at least to him. And with more time, it would be unlikely that anyone would realize that he’d passed once already. Plus, he noticed a few others with similar cloaks, drawn hoods to prevent from being seen. They weren’t likely Human though, that might have been their reason. It was his own cover he supposed, the people of the Bazaar acting as a visage of flesh and color to hide behind.

His mind focused, eyes and ears trying to capture the stray information that hung about, hear-say, idle talk, exchanges of money. He didn’t want to know everything, but he did need to pass judgment on everything. What was important? What was in correlation to him? Was there black-mail/slander/offensive material to be used against officials? Anything could be gleaned from a crowd, information-wise… though, there wasn’t much useful things to be had at any one time. In fact, to just listen and find something useful was a miracle…

The Rogue sighed, moving forward and back into position, squeezing into the crowd and seeking the target. He approached, the motion of the crowd and his own motion matching, easily helping to make him blend into the background and fore-ground that was a river of people. The world came into a clear and sharp focus, the scents of pepper and the scent of baked bread wafting in amongst the mild tones of bodily odor--luckily it wasn’t overpowering--and the smell of baking flesh from some of the Bazaar’s stands. He approached, once more his hand making it’s way into a fold of the cloak… only to feel silk beneath it…

Paltra pulled off, yet again, even though he knew he’d hit the pocket that time. He glanced back, meeting the glare of a woman, who’s fiery red eyes seemed to punch holes in whatever integrity he’d had. Paltra paused for a moment, watching as the woman did the same. Then, almost with an apologetic look, the Rogue offered a wry smile, hidden by the sash wrapped around the lower half of his face, but meeting his rust-colored eyes. The gesture seemed to be a surprise, as the woman’s stern gaze ceased, replaced by a shocked expression, portrayed by the way her eyes contracted and the tensing of her face. The flooding of her cheeks to a rose-colored red also hinted at what Paltra though she had assumed.

That’s the first time I’ve been taken as a molester… he thought, making a mental note to figure out how people would most likely react to different gestures, or the ilk, in stressed situations… Though, when he remembered that he’d once more failed in getting even a Copper Miza, a grim, almost macabre gleam writhed in his eyes. He wasn’t much for failure, twice in a row. Nor was he for accidentally targeting a woman. He was a thief by all rights, but he was a chivalrous thief. He sighed, walking forward and continuing his path, once more taking in his surroundings, though far less interested in them than before. He figured that he’d have a few more goes at this particular section, two or three more times, before he’d move on to a completely new area.

This time, Paltra watched carefully as he moved forward, his attention now almost completely devised around finding a target, and then getting in fast and controlled. He wasn’t about to alert target like the last one, nor was he going to miss like before. His eyes were like narrow daggers, already sifting through the plundering of what would be his next catch. He fell in line, once more moving through the crowd in an effort to fully blend once more. Slowly, step by step, he felt as though his body were becoming one with the jumble of the Bazaar. It was different somehow, more full. He imagined it was because he was so angry, and that he was taking this so seriously. His hand moved forth, directed by his mind almost like a dancer would their body. A simultaneous movement of body and mind, the sliding of a hand, the feeling of someone else’s pocket that was warm and heavy, and finally, the fluid motion as the arm was drawn back slightly, keeping the pressure low as the item or items were drawn from the pocket. Paltra dared not draw more than one item at a time from the pocket of a person. He had no illusions about him that provoked him to take unnecessary risks.

Silently, he pulled his arm forward, shielding his catch in a layer of his cloak, hands gently and specifically caressing the small pouch as the small, circular objects within became apparent. He grinned wildly, the thought of so many Mizas delighting him to no end. The mere fact that normal people didn’t usually carry many Gold Miza had no meaning to him. He’d succeeded finally, and had obtained something that would hopefully keep him going for a while. Paltra turned his head, a cruel smile upon his face, concealed behind the sash, as he looked to see if the person had noticed…

His smile vanished in a flash though, seeing four Knights coming toward the street, led by the woman that he’s failed to pick-pocket earlier--more out of principal than anything else. The man he’d just snatched the money from also realized that he was now shy a bag of Miza.

“Help!” The man shouted, incurring the attention of a few people around him. The Knights, however, noticed immediately…

Paltra could barely hear what they were saying from the distance he was at. But, what he could hear was the report that the man had been pick-pocketed. Much to Paltra’s relief though, he didn’t seem to know who did it, or what the person even looked like. Heck, he’d even admitted--after some gentle prodding by the Knights‘ questions--that he might have been pick-pocketed earlier in the day, perhaps even an hour ago. Paltra smiled, chuckling to himself, the intensity that the situation had wrought upon Paltra vanishing immediately. He began to turn… until he saw the woman look right at him…

That’s not good… and I’ve been standing here gawking like an idiot… He gritted his teeth, turning around and walking forward, trying to look inconspicuous. He spared a glance back… just in time to see the woman point him out of the crowd. The Rogue turned back, his pulse racing and his body immediately wanted to run flat-out. He knew that he wouldn’t get far without a decoy though…

He looked to the pouch in his hands, giving it a mournful glance as he opened it up, dumping a little bit more than half of the bag into his hand. He closed his eyes while doing so, avoiding having to know if he threw away several Gold Miza, or just some Copper ones. He clasped his hands tightly, and then threw the coins he had up into the air, high enough to get a good spread on them, but low enough that they would come down quickly. As soon as he did so, he tied the small pouch tightly, slipping it into the folds of his clothes as he gently pushed his way through the crowd. A moment later, a number of coins, not many, but still enough--he hoped--to distract the crowd and form a barrier between he and the Knights. As he expected, people immediately reacted, surprise, grasping for the coin on the ground. Surely enough, others began to crowd around, just as Paltra escaped the thick of it and escaped into the less dense outer ring. Without seeing how many went up, the people would have no choice but to assume that there were more waiting for them…

Simply sacrificing that many though was an effort for the Rogue…

“You! Halt! Get back here!” The loud voice of one of the Knights came forth, largely drowned out by the clamor of the people seeking free money. Paltra looked back, one last time, seeing the Knights draw their weapons forward and warn the crowd, trying to get past without hurting anyone. Contrary to what he expected, the people began to part, not worrying that they were after the money on the ground… such honorable guards was unheard of to the Rogue…

“Damn!” He cursed aloud, springing into action as his muscles urged, feeling like he’d been charged with lightning. Rapid foot-steps met the ground, followed in suite by the heavy foot-steps of the Knights. Every so often he would glance over his shoulder, trying to follow the path that he had laid out for himself prior to this, and assess how close they were too him. The irony of it all was that, despite all their armor and heaviness that came with it, and as cumbersome as it was, they were all just as fast as he was… and he also found himself wondering if perhaps he was just slow, or they were really just that good at their jobs…

Doesn’t matter either way I suppose, he thought grimly, if they catch me, nothing will, ‘cept for maybe if they ship me back to Sunberth prison or execute me… A chill ran up his spine, urging him onward ever so slightly faster. It wasn’t enough though, all he needed to do was lose them somehow, otherwise the alleyway that was just up ahead would be useless…

He looked around, his lungs burning and his muscles urging for more air. In this moment, he happened upon a stand that was just next to his path… filled with cooking wares and sacks…

“Get out of the way!” Paltra shouted, directed toward two people that were in the way of his path, standing just in front of the stand. As though to accent his demand, Paltra withdrew his Scimitar, the blade shining viciously in the light that was available. They backed up quickly, one of them falling before being pulled back in panic, away from the obvious criminal psychopath. In a sense he was sorry to them, but he was more sorry to the store-keeper…

As he ran by, Paltra slashed upon the front halves of several bags, three in a row, resting atop a fragile looking stand. Rather than stop there, Paltra grabbed hold of the last one, pulling it hard, moving the entire display for the bags themselves. White baking soda was all that he could see behind him, like an explosion of sorts. He slashed open the bag he held as well, spinning with it twice before throwing it as hard as he could back ward, toward the Knights. A hard, soft smack met his ears, and the tumbling of the Knights as they struggled to get their balance. Paltra grinned, turning and running, before entering the alley way, noticing the white that was upon his cloak. Without pause, he took it off, wrapping it up as he tore it off of him.

He ran forward, still holding the cloak as he rounded a corner… and then almost tripped over someone’s feet. Paltra stumbled forth a bit, half catching himself, and half slamming into a wall to stop his motion. He turned around, fearing that a Knight had somehow predicted that he’d take this exact path, out of three from the alleyway he just took…

“Hey, watch where your goin’ will ya?” The groggy voice of the lump of a man came to him, seeming almost gravely. The Rogue scanned him for a moment, his racing heart and labored breath pausing slightly as he looked at the bottle, likely only a quarter full, next to him, resting against the wall to keep from spilling. He had a ragged, tattered cloak, one that smelled as bad as it looked…

“How much do you want for the cloak?…” Paltra asked, gesturing impatiently to the one that the man wore.

A lazy eye looked up to Paltra, stopping on his own coat that was rolled up. It was a nice coat, or at least nicer than the one he had. He merely gestured, a single finger to the cloak, before he clumsily got out of his. Paltra could hear the echoed footsteps of the Knights already, thinking ahead as much as he could, he took of the Scabbard and Scimitar itself, accompanied by the bow and the arrows. As soon as he was done, he wrapped them up in the Sash. The man stood up, obviously a little tipsy as he reached out for the cloak, for as he did so, he nearly fell forward. Paltra took his own step forward, catching the man on his own shoulder… and then hearing and smelling a burp come from the drunkard…

That is the foulest thing I have ever smelled… Paltra thought, narrowly preventing himself from speaking it aloud. Instead, he held his breath while the man retained his balance and slowly pulled on the baking soda covered cloak--no doubt bettering the scent he wore in any case--while Paltra accomplished the task in half the time… though the stench was easily mortifying for him to be forced to wear. He looked back, seeing the man struggling with the last bit, idly, Paltra picked up the drink that he’d left upon the ground, hiding it in his cloak before the man turned around.

“How does it look?…” The man asked, though Paltra doubted he actually cared. He smiled courteously anyways though.

“It makes you look well versed in clean living,” he offered, hoping the man was too drunk to realize the meaning behind the comment itself. He nodded, obviously not understanding anything Paltra said, and then looked to the ground where he had put his drink. The Rogue wondered if for a moment he’d have yet another person chasing him, and held his breath as the man seemed lost in thought, accompanied by the ever growing marching feet of the Knights.

“Must have drank it all…” He sighed, walking off to the exit of the alleyway, likely to get more of his… beverage…

Paltra sat down in the man’s place, tucking the sash-wrapped weapons behind him, laying against them to minimize their visibility to anyone passing by. He quickly took a swig of the drink, letting it lace his breath, before covering part of the cloak with the same fluid, increasing the scent while not getting it on him directly…

Hope this works… he thought to himself, laying back after applying a small amount of mud to his face and covering his body amost completely in the dirty, grimy, shredded cloak, and acting like he was asleep with a flask leaning out, easily seen, in his hand…

Finally, two Knights came by, both of which stopping and examining him. One had even begun to move the hood back on the cloak with the tip of his sword, to which Paltra had groggily swat away with the flask in hand, before returning to his fake sleep. The two Knights moved quickly to the exit after that, concluding that the man was not the pick-pocketer.

Paltra grinned, shedding the cloak as he rose, grabbing up the sash and unfurling it, placing his weapons, bow, and arrows back on while wrapping the sash exclusively around his waist. His form disappeared slowly into the alleyway, leaving the disgusting heap of grime and stench behind as he left, looking to find a quite, secluded place to count his new coin…

Awaiting approval for official 'END'...
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Paltra Immuran
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[Great Bazaar, Solo Training Thread] Count Some Coin...

Postby Leviathan on August 23rd, 2010, 1:55 am

Thread Award!


Paltra
Exp +1 Observation, +3 Larceny, +3 Escape Tactics (Escape Artist if you prefer), +1 Running, +1 Intimidation, +1 Disguise, +1 Impersonation, +1 Acting
Lore Moving Through a Syliran Crowd, Distraction Tactic: Miza Tossing
Extra +5 GM, +3 SM (Theft); Several Knights Will be watching for the noted features of Paltra, such as the sash and weapons. Be warned that at any given moment and in ANY thread you are in, I may or may not introduce a knight that might recognize you, or at least be suspicious. This will end after a few IC days.

Additional Comments First off, at the beginning you mention the sale of slaves at the Bazaar, not that this mistake is going to cost any points or anything, but Syliras does not allow the sale, purchase, or ownership of slaves. Slavery is not supported in any way. Syliras is as close to a Lawful society as you can get. Just for future reference.

I would also like to say that you did wonderful in scaling your actions and successful/failed attempts with your skills. Making the results more realistic tends to get a few extra points, at least from me, so I say good job on that.

This thread was incredibly entertaining! I can tell you have plenty experience in roleplaying and you based your actions well with your character's abilities, congrats and keep up the good work. If you have any questions or comments, feel free to PM me and we can find a solution.
Bad News Everybody. School is picking up, Exams are beginning to happen, homework is growing time consuming, I may soon be evicted from my apartment, I'm dealing with severe and physical fights among several of my best friends, and I can't seem to find a time to get much needed sleep. I'm terribly sorry, but don't expect to see much of me for a long while.
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Leviathan
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