Solo Petty Larceny

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

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Petty Larceny

Postby Alric Lysane on November 1st, 2021, 9:30 am



4th Fall 521 AV - Various

Nerves were always present before any attempt to commit some petty larceny. It didn’t matter how many times he partook of the less reputable crafts there was always the tingling in the extremities, the tightness around the corners of his lips, the shifting eyes as if trying to take in the entire world. But, also the excitement and the feeling of walking that ragged edge, the knowledge that should something go wrong you could quite easily fall down that cliff. What if you got caught? What if you picked the wrong target to become entangled with?

That was what made it fun though, made it worth doing. That feeling of being truly and utterly alive…and hoping it wasn’t just for the next few Bells and no longer. Alric breathed deeply in through his nose and out through his mouth a few times, seeking to calm himself, clearing his mind as much as was possible and bringing momentary stillness to the butterflies, before he threw himself into the street. He had been lurking, leaning against the wall of a side alley and waiting for what he thought was the right victim to come along. The street was one that came off of the Castle Commons – the best grounds he had found so far.

This was largely because, if done right, the base assumption of the victim would be that it had happened in the market itself and seeing as Alric was hardly memorable as far as he was concerned it would usually leave him without any issues and none chasing him down with aught but a too general description to go by. He had thought about it quite carefully and changed the street each time so as not to be too set in place. Still, it was far from a fool-proof plan…and he could be quite foolish. Everyone had to go shopping eventually though and so it was a question of patience and not blind luck.

He grinned at his unusually smart idea, spotting a target some twenty paces away, stepping out into the street proper. The man was slightly better dressed than most and the pouch was obvious about the front of his belt – a mistake only a new arrival to Sunberth would make, and as such likely to have few allies worth noting. A simple mark and a simple plan that he put into motion, shifting his walking to be just a little bit of a stagger, suggestive of perhaps a slight intoxication. If he had thought ahead he’d have had a little drink to add the smell to his breath. He had not but he noted the idle thought for future consideration. The illusion needn’t be perfect, he was sure it likely wasn’t, it just needed to be good enough as he closed the distance, watching the man look off to the side and largely ignore him.

People make the illusions themselves, their own ignorance or perceptions filling in the blanks. Makes my life easier but still, need to be better next time he noted.

At the last moment he shifted his walk and pulled out his small eating knife – sharpened to a razor and hiding in the folds of his cloak – stumbling into his victim, hands darting out, cutting the strings and attempting to pocket the small pouch of whatever it was in the confusion. He missed it and it fell to the ground, hitting his foot hard. He winced slightly and adapted, positioning himself over it so that his cloak might obscure it from the man. The knife slipped back into hiding as profuse apologies were half-slurred and clothing smoothed and patted amiably, the man tutting distastefully at the ‘drunk’ before they both went their separate ways. Alric tensed and a few moments passed as he waited for the discovery and retribution.

Ovek was with him this time and the man seemed oblivious. He bent down, grabbed the pouch and ran for it, legs pumping and ears ringing by the time he stopped, feeling safer. His legs burned and his breathing was ragged, sweat sticking his clothing to his skin. He found somewhere to lean and breathe in deeply, getting the rhythm back to normal eventually as tired limbs complained but still had energy to give. He started to walk to his next planned destination, recovering his endurance and drying off as he went.

Last edited by Alric Lysane on November 12th, 2021, 7:07 pm, edited 4 times in total.
~ Thanks to Gossamer/Shiress for post Boxcodes ~
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Alric Lysane
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Petty Larceny

Postby Alric Lysane on November 1st, 2021, 10:42 am

That’s my purse snatch for the day done, dare I do another. Better to be alive than greedy he told himself as he paced down another side alley, leaving the street he had been in as far behind as possible before starting to make turns towards his next destination. Escape was more than half of the skill when it came to thievery, often it could be all of it.

Ducking down another ratty alley to his left, he bent under a fallen wooden beam, jumped over a few abandoned and rotting barrels and then ducked into another even grottier alley to his right, keeping a running note inside his head of the direction he was going and what his memory told him of this part of Sunberth’s warren of what laughably passed for streets. Eventually he came out on the other side of the Castle Commons, having circled the open space about a quarter and thus was safe – for a while. Sitting down upon a half-broken excuse for a wall he scratched his chin and wondered whether what he was doing was worth it. Could he really survive like this forever?

As he recovered from the dash he went through the next stage of his plan for the morning’s attempts to garner a little bit more coin to stash away for the coming winter. Operation pouch snatch was done and he would check what was gleaned later, when he was alone and behind closed doors. Operation Glad Hand was up next but for that he needed a different target, one with the sense of the peacock about them. Frustrating as it was he was out of the breaking and entering business for now and so had to fall back on the more simple – and less lucrative – measures available. As he waited he found some dirt and smeared his face and hands with it to enhance his dishevelled appearance. Thieves and beggars shared much and the dirt would lend him more of the latter and made him less recgonisable

His eyes scanned the crowd and the moving groups walking towards this side of the Commons, looking for a group this time instead of an individual as it upped the odds. Such groups were not too common but after around twenty chimes he spied one of four pacing towards the commons. He had a short window and a specific escape in mind so set about the work in the small window available. As they got close he stepped out, hands outstretched in a pleading manner.

“Please good people, help out a fellow Berther eh? Down on their luck?” he matched the pleading with steps closing the distance and trying to be beggar enough to be scorned.

They didn’t step back at all, Sunberth didn’t care about others and had little fear of knocking people to the ground who got in the way. Alric’s eyes scanned them to anything of note and saw a few interesting things – copper pins and brooches, rings that were too bulky to get hold of even if hr could shake their hands. He settled for the pins on the first man’s jacket, waiting for the inevitable smack to his face as a method of dismissal but managing the grab the jacket long enough before using his falling away to disguise the pull of his fingers.

Or at least that had been the idea. Instead his wrist landed early, rebounding his fingers away from the pins he had been aiming for. He didn’t cry out the loss but he felt the sensation of failure ripple through him as he was shoved aside further by the rest of the crowd.

The stranger tugged at the hem of his jacket with a scowling sneer before continuing about his way. Alric pushed himself up, shaking his head and making his way towards the river nearby, and thus the bridge, rolling over the edge and onto a ragged little pier of wood below before slipping under the bridge to hide for a while and nurse his aching jaw.

“Things I do for miza” he sighed as he dumped himself down in a failure’s forlorn heap, noting the aching jaw achieved for nothing before setting about lighting his pipe.

The wait came now, the wait for things to be discovered, die down and then move on so that as clean a slate as was possible in Sunberth would bring him a new opportunity. He hoped he would be able to seize it the next time.

Last edited by Alric Lysane on November 12th, 2021, 7:17 pm, edited 2 times 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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Petty Larceny

Postby Alric Lysane on November 1st, 2021, 11:17 am

A Bell or so had passed between Alric’s puffing at his pipe and sighing to himself in boredom. He had spent about fifteen chimes under the bridge before coming back up for air into the streets and making his way towards Baroque Bay and the raucous calls of the more aquatic folk of Sunberth. At least as long as they were in Sunberth. The transience was what made them profitable, though the fact that most were armed usually made him second guess his need for get involved with them. That was why he was looking for a reasonably merry selection on unarmed sailors – or associates of sailors.

Not that they’re harmless without a sword of course he thought to himself as he wandered the alleys in his search. He had no specific destination in mind this time, he was just looking for an opportunity.

He found one after a while, a group of meandering drunks still intent on drinking even more. Two of them, which was no ideal he knew but their pouches called to him and they had no weapons that he could see. He went for the old purse snatch again, picking what he thought was the more staggering one of the two. This time, however, it didn’t go quite as planned and as his hand withdrew to try to pocket the pouch a hand slapped his wrist and his fingers jerked open involuntarily. His eyes darted up and locked with the other man’s and there was a slight pause before the anger replaced confusion.

“Shyke” he breathed before trying to start running. He was tripped by the second man and he sprawled forwards, hands outstretched to try to stop himself from falling but only managing to turn it into a very awkward and half-painful roll that merely brought him face to face with the pair once more.

He was resigned to the inevitable confrontation though he would have preferred to get away clean. He noted the gold mizas upon the floor, a shame that they would not be his now and the fists started to fly in angered charges.

Luckily for Alric, at least, they were drunk enough to have lost some of their fighting skill – assuming they had some to begin with. He blocked a round right with his left forearm before shoving them back with his right, forcing them into the chest of the second one. Stepping to the side to keep one behind the other for the moment he jabbed and crossed, blocked on the first attempt but landing the second and sending one man sprawling into the legs of the second.

He didn’t hesitate and took the luck had had been given and fled for his life. He ran and ran to the fading curses and calls of cowardice. He didn’t mind, he’d rather be a coward than dead. As he rounded the first corner he stumbled into someone but he didn’t stop to see who before continuing. He didn’t stop for anything until he had gotten across the river, slowing after to slip into a side street and make the journey home. His legs were truly dulled and heavy now, his lungs a web of fire and he didn’t even want to think upon how he could hear anyone sneaking up on him above the ringing in his skull. He felt lightheaded as he gulped in air and kept moving, he side beginning ache.

As he crossed the threshold of his home, almost fully recovered but hungry and wanting to lay down, his hand went for his taking for the day and came across…nothing. He threw his cloak off, patting his pockets as he became ever more confused and flustered. This continued for about five chimes until the miza dropped.

“The bump!” he stated to himself, finally realising, “little bugger” he sighed, slumping onto his bed knowing he had just wasted half a day and been hit for nothing.

A lesson to learn indeed, that it is easier and more profitable to take from someone who has done the work rather than do the work yourself. He tutted at his own carelessness, thankful that at least this time it did not cost him his life. He’d have to get more practise in to stay ahead he knew, he couldn’t afford too many failures before it might become desperate. He resolved to get it right next time.

~ 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
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Mizahar Grader (1) Overlored (1)

Petty Larceny

Postby Alric Lysane on January 6th, 2022, 6:02 am



Your Grades


Alric Lysane


Skills
Acrobatics - 1
Acting – 2
Endurance - 2
Larceny - 3
Meditation – 1
Observation - 3
Planning – 2
Running – 2
Weapon Skill: Unarmed - 1


Lores

Acting: Alcohol on Breath Fakes Drunkenness
Baroque Bay: Sailor’s Haven
Larceny: Change Locations Often
Larceny: The Purse Cut
Larceny: Mark – The Peacock
Unarmed: Keeping One Opponent Obstructing Others


Items Gained

Slightly Bruised Chin – Will heal fully after 4 days



~ 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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