Discovery

I'd slinked around Britain for most of the day after leaving Luck. I didn't want to think about him, he wasn't my responsibility, dammit.

The thieves were in a dither. I stole into their guildhall, listening as they fought amongst themselves. Luck had done a good job when he killed Patch. The rest of the thieves were at each other's throats, trying to succeed the dead Thief master.

They'd found what was left of Patch in the sewers, along with some very fat, well-fed rats. I almost laughed out loud when I heard them swearing vengeance on the elf who would kill so fine a man.

Fine man. Fine supper for rats was more like it.

I hated that my feet kept taking me back to that house. It hadn't been home since, well it hadn't been home to me for a very long time.

I stood at the door, still cloaked in my protective shadows. I kept arguing with myself, he was fine, I should check on him.

Compassion won out, curse my caring nature.

I cringed as the door protested being opened. Squeeeeeeeeak. How long had it been unused? I couldn't remember anymore, my years in the shadows had lost their meaning.

I hadn't brought Luck here through the front door and I hadn't left that way either, but my cautious eyes caught the disturbance in the dust coating the floor. Had someone found him? Kneeling to examine the tracks I find only one set of very small footprints. A child?

I knew the thieves employed children, but there was only one set of prints and they didn't leave, only entered. That meant the intruder was probably still here.

Drawing my dagger, I crept to the bedroom door and leaned my ear against it to listen. Nothing except the uneven breathing I heard when I left.

At least Luck was still breathing.

Easing the door open with another horribly loud squeak, I slip inside still cloaked in shadow. Keeping close to the wall, my eyes search the room for the other person I knew was still there.

Imagine my surprise when I nearly tripped over the bundle of little girl curled up in the corner. I knew immediately this was no thief. A farmer's daughter? What was she doing here?

Looking down at the little girl and then over at the wounded elf sprawled across the bed, I wondered what god I pissed off recently that my orderly little life was all of a sudden flipped on its ass.

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> I'd slinked around Britain for most of the day after leaving Luck. I didn't want to think about him, he wasn't my responsibility, dammit. > The thieves were in a dither. I stole into their guildhall, listening as they fought amongst themselves. Luck had done a good job when he killed Patch. The rest of the thieves were at each other's throats, trying to succeed the dead Thief master. > They'd found what was left of Patch in the sewers, along with some very fat, well-fed rats. I almost laughed out loud when I heard them swearing vengeance on the elf who would kill so fine a man. > Fine man. Fine supper for rats was more like it. > I hated that my feet kept taking me back to that house. It hadn't been home since, well it hadn't been home to me for a very long time. > I stood at the door, still cloaked in my protective shadows. I kept arguing with myself, he was fine, I should check on him. > Compassion won out, curse my caring nature. > I cringed as the door protested being opened. Squeeeeeeeeak. How long had it been unused? I couldn't remember anymore, my years in the shadows had lost their meaning. > I hadn't brought Luck here through the front door and I hadn't left that way either, but my cautious eyes caught the disturbance in the dust coating the floor. Had someone found him? Kneeling to examine the tracks I find only one set of very small footprints. A child? > I knew the thieves employed children, but there was only one set of prints and they didn't leave, only entered. That meant the intruder was probably still here. > Drawing my dagger, I crept to the bedroom door and leaned my ear against it to listen. Nothing except the uneven breathing I heard when I left. > At least Luck was still breathing. > Easing the door open with another horribly loud squeak, I slip inside still cloaked in shadow. Keeping close to the wall, my eyes search the room for the other person I knew was still there. > Imagine my surprise when I nearly tripped over the bundle of little girl curled up in the corner. I knew immediately this was no thief. A farmer's daughter? What was she doing here? > Looking down at the little girl and then over at the wounded elf sprawled across the bed, I wondered what god I pissed off recently that my orderly little life was all of a sudden flipped on its ass.
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