The Case

Lucky stood across the street from the Blaskens Gem shop in Brit. The sun hung low in the sky and allowed him to stand in the shadows of a building, his black elven robe made it very hard for passer byes to see him. The fake nose slipped a bit on his face and he knew that his disguise would need to be re-applied soon, but hopefully he would not be here much longer. He knew the general lay out and thanks to his disguise he was able to case the inside of the shop earlier. His job now was to see exactly what time the shopkeeper left and if he cast any spells on the doors or locks that might cause Lucky problems later. The sun slipped another notch closer to the horizon and Lucky held up three fingers in the air counting them from the edge of the horizon till they touched the bottom of the sun. Every three fingers meant 10 more minutes before the sun would set. Macyle had taught that to Lucky many years ago. Lucky heard the jingle of bells and watched as the elderly shopkeeper exited his store. The shopkeeper turned the lock with a brass key and pushed once on the door to make sure it was secure and then started off down the street to what Lucky could only assume was home. Home, the thought brought a pain to Luckys chest and more confusion to his head. Where was his home. Was it with his foster mothers at the Brothel? They had always cared for Lucky when he was young. Was it with the thieves, they had taught him to survive? Was it with the elves, who had shown him love, trust and caring? �I gotta make up my mind� Luck said to himself under his breathe as he started walking back towards the Thieves Guild. His thoughts raced every time he called one place home he felt like he was lying because another place was equally part of him. He wasn�t just the nice little half elf bastard boy that the girls took care of when he was scared or gave him a sweet when he was good, he wasn�t just a cold hearted thief, and he wasn�t just a happy go lucky silly elf. No, one knew who he was; he was a fake to everyone. The problem was that he was so good at being fake that along with everyone who thought they know Lucky he had fooled himself also. As Luck wandered along he caught the sight of a boy around 12 years old standing off to the side in an ally, sticking close to the shadows. A dark hood pulled over his eyes. Lucky had a nagging feeling in his gut. Setting his own thoughts aside for the moment, Lucky thought back through the day. �Yes� that�s it he thought to himself. �That boy was outside the Brit bank today when I was there hugging the shadows as he was now, and I can almost swear I saw him when I left the sewer entrance today also.� Lucky turned fast on his heels and pulled his dagger out from his sleeve ready to throw if necessary but the boy was gone and only a cute squirrel was in its place that scampered up a drain pipe and onto the roof.

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> Lucky stood across the street from the Blaskens Gem shop in Brit. The sun hung low in the sky and allowed him to stand in the shadows of a building, his black elven robe made it very hard for passer byes to see him. The fake nose slipped a bit on his face and he knew that his disguise would need to be re-applied soon, but hopefully he would not be here much longer. He knew the general lay out and thanks to his disguise he was able to case the inside of the shop earlier. His job now was to see exactly what time the shopkeeper left and if he cast any spells on the doors or locks that might cause Lucky problems later. The sun slipped another notch closer to the horizon and Lucky held up three fingers in the air counting them from the edge of the horizon till they touched the bottom of the sun. Every three fingers meant 10 more minutes before the sun would set. Macyle had taught that to Lucky many years ago. Lucky heard the jingle of bells and watched as the elderly shopkeeper exited his store. The shopkeeper turned the lock with a brass key and pushed once on the door to make sure it was secure and then started off down the street to what Lucky could only assume was home. Home, the thought brought a pain to Luckys chest and more confusion to his head. Where was his home. Was it with his foster mothers at the Brothel? They had always cared for Lucky when he was young. Was it with the thieves, they had taught him to survive? Was it with the elves, who had shown him love, trust and caring? �I gotta make up my mind� Luck said to himself under his breathe as he started walking back towards the Thieves Guild. His thoughts raced every time he called one place home he felt like he was lying because another place was equally part of him. He wasn�t just the nice little half elf bastard boy that the girls took care of when he was scared or gave him a sweet when he was good, he wasn�t just a cold hearted thief, and he wasn�t just a happy go lucky silly elf. No, one knew who he was; he was a fake to everyone. The problem was that he was so good at being fake that along with everyone who thought they know Lucky he had fooled himself also. As Luck wandered along he caught the sight of a boy around 12 years old standing off to the side in an ally, sticking close to the shadows. A dark hood pulled over his eyes. Lucky had a nagging feeling in his gut. Setting his own thoughts aside for the moment, Lucky thought back through the day. �Yes� that�s it he thought to himself. �That boy was outside the Brit bank today when I was there hugging the shadows as he was now, and I can almost swear I saw him when I left the sewer entrance today also.� Lucky turned fast on his heels and pulled his dagger out from his sleeve ready to throw if necessary but the boy was gone and only a cute squirrel was in its place that scampered up a drain pipe and onto the roof.
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