06-27-2018, 09:55 AM
[font=trebuchet ms]Percy, so far as he knew, was merely human. In a world of dragons, drow, and dwarves, some would argue that that put him at a disadvantage- but what he lacked in animal features, he made up for in adaptability. Being a rogue wasn't an especially glamorous or honorable job, but there was little one wasn't capable of doing with a stroke of cleverness and a little ingenuity, and rogues had both in generous supply.
Frequenting this tavern, he’d heard from the grapevine, was a certain high-ranking individual who was known for being a bit too careless about flaunting their wealth. It wasn’t yet “happy hour,” as it was often dubbed by the lower classes, but getting there early would allow him to plan a better route. If he could map out his starting point, his mark, and his exit, he could accomplish the heist in a minute tops, assuming no unforeseen circumstances- and he’d be out of this town and on the way to the next in no time.
As he passed by the fae, however, Percy halted and glanced back at her. What was a twelve-year-old doing near the tavern? Then again, perhaps he could make use of that. Taking off his black cloak, and removing four gray scarves from his bag, he silently passed them to the fae. He jerked a thumb towards the entrance and winked his blue eye at her, then casually walked in without so much as a glance at the guards.
Once he entered, he maneuvered around the drunken guests and long-suffering hosts within, and stopped by the far wall. Leaning against it, he watched the entrance, waiting for the arrival of his mark.
Frequenting this tavern, he’d heard from the grapevine, was a certain high-ranking individual who was known for being a bit too careless about flaunting their wealth. It wasn’t yet “happy hour,” as it was often dubbed by the lower classes, but getting there early would allow him to plan a better route. If he could map out his starting point, his mark, and his exit, he could accomplish the heist in a minute tops, assuming no unforeseen circumstances- and he’d be out of this town and on the way to the next in no time.
As he passed by the fae, however, Percy halted and glanced back at her. What was a twelve-year-old doing near the tavern? Then again, perhaps he could make use of that. Taking off his black cloak, and removing four gray scarves from his bag, he silently passed them to the fae. He jerked a thumb towards the entrance and winked his blue eye at her, then casually walked in without so much as a glance at the guards.
Once he entered, he maneuvered around the drunken guests and long-suffering hosts within, and stopped by the far wall. Leaning against it, he watched the entrance, waiting for the arrival of his mark.
[font=trebuchet ms]some weirdo