• Common • Rakahi • Gravokian
"A greedy father has thieves for children."
1st of Ymiden, 717
The door creaked open as a dark shadow slipped inside, with eyes that glowed hauntingly in the dim room. On the far wall, a lantern burned and she moved around a dining table, her shadow form slithering across the room until the light began to touch her. From the darkness emerged a woman dressed in black, hand stretching from the shadows to distinguish the light. With a quick puff of her breath, the flame vanished and she grinned, replacing the light source where she found it. It was time to get to work.
She moved first to the windows, making sure to stay out of their purview and kept her back pressed against the wall, only sparing a quick glance towards the glass pane to see if there were any stray wanderers on the street this time of night. No one stirred, save for a drunk that bumbled around up the street; everything else was strangely quiet. This pleased her, as it meant fewer witnesses if she were to be caught. Perched on a lamp post was Curio, her owl companion, and look out. His head swiveled to and fro, deep orbs looking for signs of disturbance.
Navyri moved quickly, doing her best to keep her footsteps light. She alternated the weight distribution of her feet, but as she headed up the first few flights of stairs to the second story, the floorboards protested her ascension. The sound was aching and sudden - a trenchant groan that struck the silence abruptly.
(Ashan's tits!)
She had forgotten to revert back to her shadow form, still solidified and heavy. Ears straining to hear anyone getting out of bed to investigate the sound, she blended into the shadows, shedding her whole form and exchanging it for the lithe nightmare. Her arms elongated and her nails turned into talons. She darted up the stairs, finding a dark corner at the top of the balcony and huddled there, closing her eyes so that their glow would not give her away, and listened.
There was a moment of silence, and then the rustling of covers, followed by a steady sigh of someone sleeping. Navyri relaxed slightly and then glided forward, carefully approaching the closed door. She pressed her ear to the wood, trying to detect any movement, and when she heard nothing, she twisted the knob and held it steady, using her other palm to eerily push the door open.
Moonlight illuminated the worn floor and bounced off the walls. A figure lay peacefully upon a stuffed mattress, draped in a quilt that looked pastel blue. Navyri paid attention to the empty spot beside the petite body - guessing it was a woman without a husband, or lover - or at least one that preferred staying out late. Even still, she was pleased to see this. The common woman outside of Augiery was weak - preferring to send men to protect them. With a proper scaring, most were just about useless.
It have her pause as the old memory of heartache made her chest tighten as she tried to remember her home land. So much time had passed that she had begun to forget details of her home - of her mother, of her room, of her language. After all this time and so much effort blending in with the humans around her - was she still a Naer in more than just physicality? Were the customs still ingrained in her? If she was capable of returning home, would she fit in, or be an outsider forever an always?
The Naerrik crept further into the room, immediately assessing what would be the easiest and quickest item to take. On the right wall was a large wardrobe. Old. Likely made by some great grandfather and passed on through the generations. Navyri moved carefully towards it, thin figures reaching out to brush against the old oak. A few designs were etched into the doors, and there was a small latch, which she undid with a quick twist of her fingers. Navyri slipped her hand inside, feeling the kiss of complete darkness brush against her hand and the skin of her fingertips pulsing, merging with the shadows.
Navyri sighed wistfully, closing her eyes as she brushed against the fabrics hanging inside. There were a number of fabrics - rough ones with a texture that scratched against her, fuzzy warm ones with fur, and finally - the one she liked the most - a silky delight, that felt like cool water against her touch. The Naer opened the door further, watching as light crept in and her hand solidified once more. In it, was a fine scarf - thin and small, but made of a fluid material, like silk or satin. Navyri believed it to the second, and brought it closer to her face, eying the minimal, yet decorative stitching along its hems. The thread was also made of a shiny thread, the black matching almost seamlessly together. This... This was very nice quality indeed. Much better than some of the other things in there, and judging by the house, one of the nicer items here, perhaps from a dowry.
Unable to resist, she gave a flourish of her wrist and the scarf was wrapped around her neck and shoulders, the Naer taking a moment to pose with the fabric and eye her reflection in the vanity mirror along the far wall. She nodded in approval and closed the wardrobe quickly, stuffing the scarf into the bag that hung from her shoulder and turned back to the sleeping figure. Still no stirring. A good sign, but perhaps of luck that was too good. She was prepared to move on, to slip out the open window when she gave one last look at her target.
Something possessed the thief to step closer, to see the type of woman she was stealing from, but when she saw her, it was not her face that caught the Naerikk's attention, but the medallion around her neck. A circular locket made of gold shimmered, drawing her in. Navyri was enraptured and her hands moved on their own accord as she prowled closer, eyes fixated on the treasure. She began reaching into her bag, withdrawing the scarf and wrapping it around her head and then the lower half of her face, tying it in place. If things went south, it was best if she stayed unrecognizable.
Now, for the fun part...
Hovering over the bed, she watched the woman's chest shift with steady breath and the way the locket rested between the small slope of her breasts. Navyri reached forward, her sharp nail barely scraping against the metal when the rise and fall stopped and she looked up to see brown eyes peering up at her. The woman was frozen in bed, but her mouth dropped and eyes widened, readying for a shrill scream. The Naer reacted without thinking, rearing back and sending a wicked backhand across her face, cutting any budding scream short. Then, she snatched at the chain and tore the necklace from the woman's throat, the chain snapping, as she darted towards the window.
An unexpected obstacle that required quick thinking. Stealing often relied on such instincts, as getting caught was a very real possibility every day she sought out the riches of another. But even with her confidence, the woman waking had shocked Navyri. It ruined the easy night she had imagined, and her excitement started to pick up as she looked for the closest escape route. (There.) she thought, honing in on her target. She moved quickly and efficiently, wasting no time as the woman she had attacked recovered.
The Naer was climbing out the window and scrambling down the wall when a scream tore through the night air. Navyri cursed and darted down the closest alley, hoping that when guards came, she would be long gone. Tangling with them would be unfortunate. Unfamiliar with the town, she pulled the scarf back down around her neck, hoping it didn't look too suspicious in the warmer weather and gulped as adrenaline poured through her limbs. She gave a mental command to Curio and glimpsed over her shoulder, keeping her feet moving until the Tarouz familiar found her.
"There you are," she breathed, hiding behind a barrel when she heard footsteps sounding down the street. She dipped into an alley and tucked the necklace's chain into the owl's talons, "Take this home. I'll meet you." And then, when she watched her friend fly away with her new jewelry Navyri smiled, confident she had gotten away with the crime and enjoyed the excitement that poured through her. Delroth blessed or not, the Naerikk found herself loving the steal, each success building upon the last as she grew confident in her own abilities. How long could she keep this up, snatching valuables from homes and pockets? An image of her, lounging upon a bed of jewels filled her mind, and she sighed wistfully. Tonight had just been a sliver of the wealth she craved, barely a drop in the bucket. Even then, how long would she have to gather her fortune before she was expected to give it up?
How long could she enjoy such a turmutulous career?
The door creaked open as a dark shadow slipped inside, with eyes that glowed hauntingly in the dim room. On the far wall, a lantern burned and she moved around a dining table, her shadow form slithering across the room until the light began to touch her. From the darkness emerged a woman dressed in black, hand stretching from the shadows to distinguish the light. With a quick puff of her breath, the flame vanished and she grinned, replacing the light source where she found it. It was time to get to work.
She moved first to the windows, making sure to stay out of their purview and kept her back pressed against the wall, only sparing a quick glance towards the glass pane to see if there were any stray wanderers on the street this time of night. No one stirred, save for a drunk that bumbled around up the street; everything else was strangely quiet. This pleased her, as it meant fewer witnesses if she were to be caught. Perched on a lamp post was Curio, her owl companion, and look out. His head swiveled to and fro, deep orbs looking for signs of disturbance.
Navyri moved quickly, doing her best to keep her footsteps light. She alternated the weight distribution of her feet, but as she headed up the first few flights of stairs to the second story, the floorboards protested her ascension. The sound was aching and sudden - a trenchant groan that struck the silence abruptly.
(Ashan's tits!)
She had forgotten to revert back to her shadow form, still solidified and heavy. Ears straining to hear anyone getting out of bed to investigate the sound, she blended into the shadows, shedding her whole form and exchanging it for the lithe nightmare. Her arms elongated and her nails turned into talons. She darted up the stairs, finding a dark corner at the top of the balcony and huddled there, closing her eyes so that their glow would not give her away, and listened.
There was a moment of silence, and then the rustling of covers, followed by a steady sigh of someone sleeping. Navyri relaxed slightly and then glided forward, carefully approaching the closed door. She pressed her ear to the wood, trying to detect any movement, and when she heard nothing, she twisted the knob and held it steady, using her other palm to eerily push the door open.
Moonlight illuminated the worn floor and bounced off the walls. A figure lay peacefully upon a stuffed mattress, draped in a quilt that looked pastel blue. Navyri paid attention to the empty spot beside the petite body - guessing it was a woman without a husband, or lover - or at least one that preferred staying out late. Even still, she was pleased to see this. The common woman outside of Augiery was weak - preferring to send men to protect them. With a proper scaring, most were just about useless.
It have her pause as the old memory of heartache made her chest tighten as she tried to remember her home land. So much time had passed that she had begun to forget details of her home - of her mother, of her room, of her language. After all this time and so much effort blending in with the humans around her - was she still a Naer in more than just physicality? Were the customs still ingrained in her? If she was capable of returning home, would she fit in, or be an outsider forever an always?
The Naerrik crept further into the room, immediately assessing what would be the easiest and quickest item to take. On the right wall was a large wardrobe. Old. Likely made by some great grandfather and passed on through the generations. Navyri moved carefully towards it, thin figures reaching out to brush against the old oak. A few designs were etched into the doors, and there was a small latch, which she undid with a quick twist of her fingers. Navyri slipped her hand inside, feeling the kiss of complete darkness brush against her hand and the skin of her fingertips pulsing, merging with the shadows.
Navyri sighed wistfully, closing her eyes as she brushed against the fabrics hanging inside. There were a number of fabrics - rough ones with a texture that scratched against her, fuzzy warm ones with fur, and finally - the one she liked the most - a silky delight, that felt like cool water against her touch. The Naer opened the door further, watching as light crept in and her hand solidified once more. In it, was a fine scarf - thin and small, but made of a fluid material, like silk or satin. Navyri believed it to the second, and brought it closer to her face, eying the minimal, yet decorative stitching along its hems. The thread was also made of a shiny thread, the black matching almost seamlessly together. This... This was very nice quality indeed. Much better than some of the other things in there, and judging by the house, one of the nicer items here, perhaps from a dowry.
Unable to resist, she gave a flourish of her wrist and the scarf was wrapped around her neck and shoulders, the Naer taking a moment to pose with the fabric and eye her reflection in the vanity mirror along the far wall. She nodded in approval and closed the wardrobe quickly, stuffing the scarf into the bag that hung from her shoulder and turned back to the sleeping figure. Still no stirring. A good sign, but perhaps of luck that was too good. She was prepared to move on, to slip out the open window when she gave one last look at her target.
Something possessed the thief to step closer, to see the type of woman she was stealing from, but when she saw her, it was not her face that caught the Naerikk's attention, but the medallion around her neck. A circular locket made of gold shimmered, drawing her in. Navyri was enraptured and her hands moved on their own accord as she prowled closer, eyes fixated on the treasure. She began reaching into her bag, withdrawing the scarf and wrapping it around her head and then the lower half of her face, tying it in place. If things went south, it was best if she stayed unrecognizable.
Now, for the fun part...
Hovering over the bed, she watched the woman's chest shift with steady breath and the way the locket rested between the small slope of her breasts. Navyri reached forward, her sharp nail barely scraping against the metal when the rise and fall stopped and she looked up to see brown eyes peering up at her. The woman was frozen in bed, but her mouth dropped and eyes widened, readying for a shrill scream. The Naer reacted without thinking, rearing back and sending a wicked backhand across her face, cutting any budding scream short. Then, she snatched at the chain and tore the necklace from the woman's throat, the chain snapping, as she darted towards the window.
An unexpected obstacle that required quick thinking. Stealing often relied on such instincts, as getting caught was a very real possibility every day she sought out the riches of another. But even with her confidence, the woman waking had shocked Navyri. It ruined the easy night she had imagined, and her excitement started to pick up as she looked for the closest escape route. (There.) she thought, honing in on her target. She moved quickly and efficiently, wasting no time as the woman she had attacked recovered.
The Naer was climbing out the window and scrambling down the wall when a scream tore through the night air. Navyri cursed and darted down the closest alley, hoping that when guards came, she would be long gone. Tangling with them would be unfortunate. Unfamiliar with the town, she pulled the scarf back down around her neck, hoping it didn't look too suspicious in the warmer weather and gulped as adrenaline poured through her limbs. She gave a mental command to Curio and glimpsed over her shoulder, keeping her feet moving until the Tarouz familiar found her.
"There you are," she breathed, hiding behind a barrel when she heard footsteps sounding down the street. She dipped into an alley and tucked the necklace's chain into the owl's talons, "Take this home. I'll meet you." And then, when she watched her friend fly away with her new jewelry Navyri smiled, confident she had gotten away with the crime and enjoyed the excitement that poured through her. Delroth blessed or not, the Naerikk found herself loving the steal, each success building upon the last as she grew confident in her own abilities. How long could she keep this up, snatching valuables from homes and pockets? An image of her, lounging upon a bed of jewels filled her mind, and she sighed wistfully. Tonight had just been a sliver of the wealth she craved, barely a drop in the bucket. Even then, how long would she have to gather her fortune before she was expected to give it up?
How long could she enjoy such a turmutulous career?
