Day 23, Summer 500 AV
work alone, he was brought into what he did by his parents who
taught him the tricks of the trade since birth. His mother and father
almost always participated with medium to high risk jobs, and even
took the time to oversee the easier type of work. There was a bit of
fun involved, but with such a hazardous profession they all had to
keep a serious demeanor to keep safe.
society. His father, lean and strong, always pushed Syndre to be
physically capable in all their activities. It was very important
that he was able to outrun anyone that may be chasing him. His father
would also educate him on fighting techniques, stealing pieces of
many martial arts and combining them together in his lessons. Knives
and daggers were a priority as well, for if you couldn't outrun your
pursuers, you had to get thru them.
hide in the shadows, and actually schooled him in basic mathematics.
She also showed him how to work the crowds. Syndre's favorite thing
to watch was when his mother would tell people their fortunes. She
used a set of playing cards and instead of numbers and designs, they
had a variety of pictures that she would decipher to her customer.
deeply but in measured amounts so as not to suffer from cramps. There
was a man chasing him from the shop he had just stolen from and he
wasn't far behind Syndre. Adrenaline dumped into his lengthy frame and
though the shop employee was fast, the boy was weighted less and was
more sure footed. They both sprinted down a crowded street, zipping by
people going about their daily lives.
detour sent him down a thin alley and he could hear the man behind him
cursing as he stumbled from the misdirection. The alley was short and
the young thief would burst out onto the next street over, crossing it
swiftly while dodging unknowing citizens. Directly across the street
stood his mother dressed in the filthy clothes of a beggar. She watched
the event taking place out of the corner of her eye, disguising her
intentions as she peddled for coin.
alley directly across the street, yet this one did not open into another
adjacent street, it was a dead end. This was all part of the plan that
his parents devised earlier that day. A coiled cloth rope was stationary
at the end of the closed gap, hanging unnoticed along the length of a
stone wall that blocked the exit. A shadowy figure clung to the apex of
the wall, holding himself up with corded arms near the draping rope.
the opening of the alley her son had slipped into. The two collided
roughly and his mother was thrown onto the street, the man chasing him
stumbled again and drove a shoulder painfully into an alley wall. He fell
with some force onto the dirty floor and lifted his head, angrily
watching the youthful thief. A dislocated shoulder kept the man from
pursuing any further, a vicious gleam in his eyes while taking in the
thought-out escape.
with Mizas and then reached down, offering the boy a welcoming hand.
Syndre's shoes planted against the stone as his small fingers caught hold
of the cloth rope. It was knotted every so many feet, which made for an
easier climb up the fifteen foot wall. He used all of his straining
limbs to work his way up the rope, eventually nearing the top where he
took hold of the offered hand. His father pulled helped him up and over
the edge of the wall, and they both dropped down the opposite side.
He was ten years old and was already working for a living, whereas
other children were stilling enjoying their youth. Syndre didn't work alone, he was brought into what he did by his parents who
taught him the tricks of the trade since birth. His mother and father
almost always participated with medium to high risk jobs, and even
took the time to oversee the easier type of work. There was a bit of
fun involved, but with such a hazardous profession they all had to
keep a serious demeanor to keep safe.
They were a family of thieves. Not just your typical pickpockets
though, they were all talented in many nontraditional aspects of society. His father, lean and strong, always pushed Syndre to be
physically capable in all their activities. It was very important
that he was able to outrun anyone that may be chasing him. His father
would also educate him on fighting techniques, stealing pieces of
many martial arts and combining them together in his lessons. Knives
and daggers were a priority as well, for if you couldn't outrun your
pursuers, you had to get thru them.
His mother, so beautiful and smart, taught him how to escape from
certain rope ties, fiddle with locks, wear darker clothing to hide in the shadows, and actually schooled him in basic mathematics.
She also showed him how to work the crowds. Syndre's favorite thing
to watch was when his mother would tell people their fortunes. She
used a set of playing cards and instead of numbers and designs, they
had a variety of pictures that she would decipher to her customer.
At the current moment, the young boy was using what both parents had
etched into his ever expanding mind. He was in a dead run, breathingdeeply but in measured amounts so as not to suffer from cramps. There
was a man chasing him from the shop he had just stolen from and he
wasn't far behind Syndre. Adrenaline dumped into his lengthy frame and
though the shop employee was fast, the boy was weighted less and was
more sure footed. They both sprinted down a crowded street, zipping by
people going about their daily lives.
Syndre counted the buildings on his right as he ran, suddenly planting
his foot and changing direction when reaching the twelfth shop. The detour sent him down a thin alley and he could hear the man behind him
cursing as he stumbled from the misdirection. The alley was short and
the young thief would burst out onto the next street over, crossing it
swiftly while dodging unknowing citizens. Directly across the street
stood his mother dressed in the filthy clothes of a beggar. She watched
the event taking place out of the corner of her eye, disguising her
intentions as she peddled for coin.
Her son slipped by just seconds after she had noticed him and she hid
her smile as her son offered a quick wink. He disappeared into the alley directly across the street, yet this one did not open into another
adjacent street, it was a dead end. This was all part of the plan that
his parents devised earlier that day. A coiled cloth rope was stationary
at the end of the closed gap, hanging unnoticed along the length of a
stone wall that blocked the exit. A shadowy figure clung to the apex of
the wall, holding himself up with corded arms near the draping rope.
"Sir.. sir.. help a struggling...," his mother didn't get to finish her
sentence, purposely stepping in front of the shop employee as he neared the opening of the alley her son had slipped into. The two collided
roughly and his mother was thrown onto the street, the man chasing him
stumbled again and drove a shoulder painfully into an alley wall. He fell
with some force onto the dirty floor and lifted his head, angrily
watching the youthful thief. A dislocated shoulder kept the man from
pursuing any further, a vicious gleam in his eyes while taking in the
thought-out escape.
Syndre tossed a woven sack up to the darkly clothed figure atop the wall
just before leaping upward. The shadow easily snatched the pouch filledwith Mizas and then reached down, offering the boy a welcoming hand.
Syndre's shoes planted against the stone as his small fingers caught hold
of the cloth rope. It was knotted every so many feet, which made for an
easier climb up the fifteen foot wall. He used all of his straining
limbs to work his way up the rope, eventually nearing the top where he
took hold of the offered hand. His father pulled helped him up and over
the edge of the wall, and they both dropped down the opposite side.
