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Oleander's heart sank as he watched the figure continue up the stairs out of the corner of his eye. He waited until the silhouette had disappeared from his periphery before creeping slowly towards the staircase and up the steps after them. The second floor was draped in shadows, since the royal family was downstairs mingling with their party guests rather than resting in their chambers. A few candles lining the walls were lit, casting a dim orange glow onto the floor below them. Oleander watched as the silhouette wove in and out of the circles of light, ensuring that they remained hidden safely in the darkness. Oleander wanted desperately to shout after them, order them to stop, but he knew his best bet was to wait until they were occupied with whatever they were after to strike. He trailed after them slowly, following their weaving path through the light of the candles as he kept a safe distance between them. The figure paused suddenly. Oleander had to squint through the darkness to see what they were looking at: the door to the princess's chambers. Luckily Princess Sonnet was a floor below, enjoying the party's festivities. This intruder had to know that; Oleander assumed they were after one of the princess's belongings, then. The figure placed a hand on the doorknob and pushed the door open silently. Oleander was impressed with their stealth; he wouldn't have noticed them sneaking upstairs if he hadn't been positioned directly next to the staircase. They slipped inside, and Oleander followed swiftly, lingering by the doorway as he peered inside. The princess's room was cast entirely in shadow, but the figure moved about as if they could see perfectly well. They crossed immediately to her vanity - so they were after jewelry, then. Oleander knew that the royals were in possession of a small fortune in jewelry; he was surprised that they had never dealt with a burglar before. The silhouette slid open the vanity drawer, and Oleander decided it was time to step in. He shoved open the door to the room and marched in, hand on the hilt of his sword. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked, deepening his voice as he tried to sound as imposing and intimidating as possible. The thief had several of the princess's jewels in hand, but Oleander didn't even notice. He was studying the figure before him instead, trying to figure out why they looked so familiar. They were incredibly tall, and though the room was dark, he thought he could make out the silhouette of horns and a tail. The thief shifted slightly, and a sliver of light from the hallway fell across their purple skin. Oleander's chest clenched. It was the half-demon from the tavern the previous night, the one he'd played cards with - Sorren, if he was remembering correctly. His hand fell away from the hilt of his sword. "What are you doing here?" he hissed. He wondered if the man had known of his identity as a royal guard all along. Had he sought him out at the tavern for that reason? Their meeting had seemed incidental, but Oleander wondered now if the man had been trying to get more information on the masquerade ball. He didn't think he'd given him any details, but he'd been drunk; he could have easily let something vital slip. He shook the thoughts away and pointed at the jewels in Sorren's grip. "Put them back. Now." His voice was high-pitched and uneven, but he was too shaken to care. "You're under arrest." He sounded almost uncertain, and he cursed himself for his shaking voice. He pointed to the door with a trembling finger. "Outside. We'll talk." Once they stood in the hallway, Oleander returned his palm to the hilt of his sword. "Why are you stealing from the royals?" He did his best to imbue his voice with the gruff confidence he'd so easily possessed earlier. "Are you working with anyone else?"
Oleander and the rest of the guard knew of the crime syndicates in the underbelly of the city; they didn't exactly try to hide their presence. There was nothing they could do, however, unless they caught their members committing a crime. If Sorren was working for one of these syndicates, his arrest would likely mean that the entire group would collapse under pressure from the royal guard. Oleander crossed his arms and eyed Sorren, waiting for his response.
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Sorren’s eyes flitted around the room, there was some valuable stuff in here. His pupils were blown wide to take in as much light as he possibly could in the dim lit room. Finding is way towards the side table, he slid it open carefully. Some kind of golden and ruby red necklace is what he was after, useless tat really. He lifted a few of the bejeweled items with one hand, using the other to search the back of the drawer. It better be in here or else he was screwed. There she was, he began pulling it from its hiding spot when he froze.
His head snapped up, jerking towards the door when a guard stood, hand on his sword. Great. Sorren’s tail tip flicked back and forth behind him, could be make a break for it? He had longer legs than this guard, perhaps he could…How did he know his name? Sorren’s startlement must have been written across his face. It was the man from last night, Sorren’s eyes narrowed, unsure of how this would go. He was a guard, a royal one no doubt. Gods, he wished he had mentioned it last night. This had just become a lot more complicated.
Then Oleander’s hand left his sword. Curious. Sorren perked up, straightening his spine.
“Look, I don’t want to be here. This is ridiculous.” He lifted a hand with the jewels to emphasize his point. Starting to crack a half smile when the unnerved voice scolded him. Carefully, Sorren lowered his hand and let all the jewelry fall out between his fingers. Still clutching the golden and ruby necklace in his other hand. He tensed his shoulders at the proclaim that he was under arrest, eyes wide and pupils narrowing. He could be totally screwed. Sorren debated his choices, eventually placing the necklace on the top of the side table. Sorren figured he could run by and grab it before leaping out of a window or something if it came to that.
Reluctantly, Sorren followed Oleander out of the room and into the hallway. The height difference gave him enough of an advantage in this situation, but that sword could be a problem. He had to duck to make it through the door frame, he made a point to stay close, a side step away from the room.
A strangled scoff came from Sorren’s throat, a hand lifting to remove the mask from his face. He waved it around. “Who do you think I’m working for?” He asked sarcastically. “It’s not like I have a choice.” Sorren gritted his teeth, the guard had even asked about his mark the night before.
“Do you think I would really risk being executed or imprisoned for a stupid necklace by my own free will?” Sorren tried to soften his tone but it wasn’t happening, instead it came out scathing, his annoyance and anger towards his master leaking through into his words. His tail lashed behind him, lip curling in a snarl, dipping his torso down to bring his head level to Oleanders. Keeping a few centimeters away, he started daggers at the man. But Oleander’s eyes weren’t angry at him, he looked almost..panicked and scared. Oleander hadn’t called out to other guards. Wait, why hadn’t he? Curiouser and curiouser.
“Cazador wants it for some reason, a petty noble drama.” Sorren tossed his head to the side before retreating his head a little further away. He took in a deep breath and pressed two fingers to his temple, eyebrows furrowed and eyes scrunched. Sorren looked back to Oleander, his hand dropping, his free hand hanging limply at his side. “If I don’t bring it to them, they’ll have my neck on a chopping block before day break.” Sorren’s eyes hollowed as he finished his sentence. Tail drooping so the fluff grazed the floor, no charismatic smile or quip followed, it was the truth. It may not be death, torture maybe, enslavement, worse labour, science testing subject. Who knew, each house threw their disobedient and disappointing marked in all directions, anywhere they could earn a pretty penny from their chain to their house.
“Locking me up is preferred to being dragged back to that house without it.” He sighed, lifting his torso back up to his full height. “Sorry, I can’t say no to them.” A hand raised and rubbed at his neck where his mark should be if not for his glamoured vial. |
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Oleander pursued his lips as Sorren spoke. He wasn't sure if he believed the man, but if he was being truthful... Oleander would be responsible for whatever consequences he faced. He flinched as Sorren whipped off his mask and leaned in closer to him. He knew the man was trying to intimidate him, but the pure fear and anxiety rippling off him did nothing to help in that regard. Oleander glanced back into the princess's room, where the necklace on the vanity glinted in the low light. It may have been priceless and worth more than he would ever comprehend, but he knew that there were a dozen more just like it sitting in the vanity drawer. He turned back to Sorren slowly. "Listen to me carefully. On the other end of this hallway is a spiral staircase. It will take you straight to a wooden door leading out the back of the castle; it should dump you out right by the moat. Follow the moat to the south, and it'll lead you back into the city without having to get too close to the castle and its guards." He paused and darted back into the princess's room, scooping the necklace off of her vanity. It was cool to the touch and quite heavy, the massive ruby pendant dangling from the golden chain at least as weighty as a small rock. He hurried back out into the hallway and pressed the necklace into Sorren's palm; their fingers brushed, and Oleander did his best to not think about how he was colluding with a thief to steal the priceless jewels of the princess he was sworn to protect. "Remember: follow the stairs. Good luck." He paused again, biting his lip. "And be safe." Oleander turned on his heel and strode down the hallway, listening intently as Sorren's footsteps faded away slowly. As soon as the sound of the other man's movement was inaudible, his knees began to shake. He slumped against the shadowy wall, heart thumping painfully against his ribs. He'd just helped a thief steal a royal jewel, and had given him explicit instructions on how to escape. He could have ordered him to leave empty-handed, but he had been the one to march back into Princess Sonnet's room, retireve the necklace, and hand it off to its thief. His head swam, and for a moment he considered sprinting after Sorren and putting a stop to the burglary. No. Sorren had told him plainly what would happen if he returned to Cazador without the jewels. Imprisonment, torture, maybe even death. Oleander couldn't - wouldn't, he supposed - be responsible for the death of a man who was clearly too far in over his head. He rubbed firmly at his eyes and straightened up, brushing at the front of his uniform. If Sorren managed to get out of the castle and back into the city, no one would ever know what Oleander had done. Perhaps, even if he was caught, he would keep his lips sealed, insisting that he had acted alone with no assistance from inside the palace. Oleander wouldn't call the man trustworthy, but he seemed like the kind of person to recognize when a debt was owed. Oleander made his way back to the stairs on shaky legs. The noise of the masquerade ball drifted up to him, and he nearly burst out laughing when he realized he'd completely abandoned his post. It would have been justified - he had been following a thief, after all - but it wasn't like he was planning on sharing that information with any of his fellow guards. Oleander descended the stairs and reemerged onto the balcony where he had been posted. The party was still in full swing, but everything seemed to be going well. Oleander marveled at how these partygoers could dance and drink and mingle, while upstairs, a man had been forced to steal a royal's possessions to avoid imprisonment or execution. He shook his head slightly and leaned against the marble railing overlooking the ballroom, surveyed the scene of swirling bodies. Fabric swirled and masks glittered beneath the crystal chandelier, and Oleander found himself nearly dozing off as he watched the rhythmic scene before him. |
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Sorren’s eyes flickered down towards Oleander again as he back to speak, slowly his brows lifted in surprise and pupils dilated. Was he telling him to take it and run? His bewilderment only deepened as he watched the man jump back into the bedroom to get the necklace himself. Sorren barely had the time register what was happening before the necklace was pushed into his hand, his claws grazed Oleander’s fingers as he withdrew. Looking down at the heavy chain, Sorren’s tail curled up towards his spine, a small smile beginning to spread across his lips, steadily growing in size.
“Thank you.” Sorren’s focused back on Oleander, what a strange man. His gaze flitted around Oleander’s face before he turned away. The pair of them heading in opposite directions, Sorren’s padded feet making the silent part a breeze. Clutching the necklace tightly in one hand, he vanished into the staircase, taking three steps at once with his long legs. His free hand stabilising him using the wall.His lips still split into a wide grin, eyes are big as saucers. How he managed to get away with this, only the Gods would know.
Reaching the bottom of the staircase quickly, the wooden door in his sights. Moving cautiously now, Sorren pushed the door, half expecting a group of guards to be waiting there ready for him But no, nothing, just what Oleander had told him. Simply the moat. Sticking his head out to check for any onlookers, he fled the scene. Realizing as he sprinted, that he had left the mask in the stairwell in his excitement at being free to go. Whatever, it would probably be fine.
FInally he reached the meeting point, necklace pushed into a small pouch that he held tightly in his grip. Outside of some clothing store in the middle ring of the city, Sorren’s heart pounded. He wasn’t usually in this area and he was certainly gaining a few stares and second glances. Eventually a small woman appeared, dressed in typical midwifery clothing.
“Oh thank you, I needed more of that poultice. I’ve been after some for days.” Her face was soften, smiling gently, but her eyes glinted. A Cazador worker, unmarked and being paid for this task. Sorren handed over the pouch.
“You’re welcome, ma’am.” He tried to give a good performance of a smile.He just wanted to get back to his room at the inn. As soon as he was able to, he began walking immediately to the tavern, avoiding questioning looks about his attire as he entered. Heading straight up to his room, sleep is all he wanted. He had enough excitement and terror for the day. |
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Oleander woke peacefully the next morning, rubbing at this eyes and yawning in the glow of the sun streaming in through his small window. For a moment, as he lay there, he had the strangest sensation that he'd forgotten to do something the night prior, that there was a task or event left unfinished. But that was impossible. He had been at the ball all last night, standing guard from the second floor balcony. Sorren. The necklace. Him pointing out how to leave the palace undetected. Oleander sat straight up in bed, his heart pounding in his ears. Not only had he helped a thief escape the castle loaded with the princess's priceless jewels, he had been the one to give them to him and insist that he take them. His fellow guards would be waiting outside of his room, swords at the ready, to drag him to the dungeons. He likely would be denied a trial, dragged to the headsman's block, and - Oleander thought for a moment about climbing from the window and running. He could leave the city, make a life for himself somewhere else in the kingdom. But running would imply guilt; everyone would assume that he had in fact committed the crime if he was so eager to get away from justice. Shaking, he rose to his feet and dressed quickly, fingers trembling as he attempted to do up the buttons on the front of his jacket. He slid his sword into its sheath and smoothed the front of his uniform. If he was to be arrested, he could at least look presentable. Oleander opened the door quickly, expecting a dozen of his fellow guards to fall on him instantly, but the hall beyond his room was silent. He stuck his head out tentatively; it was completely empty except for him. He stepped outside slowly. Maybe they were lurking around the corner, ready to surprise him because they thought he was dangerous. But as he stood in the center of the hall, he was still the only person in sight. Carefully, he proceeded towards the winding stone staircase leading to the first floor of the palace. Even the stairs were abandoned; perhaps all the guards were waiting for him on the floor below. He reached the bottom of the stairs to find a handful of his fellow guards - but they were simply milling about, on duty or making their way to their next shift. He avoided looking any of them too closely in the eye, but they paid no extra attention to him nonetheless. The mess hall was where the rest of his fellow guard remained. It was still relatively early in the morning, and they sat at the long wooden tables, slurping their steaming porridge. As Oleander stood in the entryway to the mess hall, a strange feeling came over him: no one knew. He'd gotten away with assisting in a burglary of the crown's possessions, and no one knew. A brief wave of giddiness swept over him, but he crushed it down. Guilty or not, it was wrong to celebrate what he'd done. It was still a crime, and one committed against the royals he served. Fleetingly, he thought of Sorren. He must have gotten away, then, back to Cazador's mansion with the jewels in tow. Oleander felt a surge of relief at that thought, though he couldn't understand why. Sorren was a thief, and had stolen from the crown; Oleander had no place to feel sympathy for him. |
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As dawn broke, Sorren was already out walking the streets. He needed money, the inn was calling in their payment and it took all but pennies from his wallet. He didn't particularly like what he was about ot do, but he had little options. He prowled the darkened walkways of the lower circle, waiting and watching the drunken people returning home from their night of debauchery. His pupils blown wide to take in as much light as he could, seeing significantly better than these more human creatures. A particulary wealthy looking couple where giggling loudly, staggering down an alleyway just opposite where Sorren stood. His tail lashed behind him in anticipation, trying to amp himself up for the act he was about to put on. Increasing his breathing to a huffing, harsh pace, he curled his upper lip and began sprinting towards the pair. His long legs covered a ridiculous amount of ground. He sprung from the pavement and bounced off of the brick wall, a chunk crumbling on the impact. Sorren skidded to a halt before them, crouched and tail slashing through the air behind him. The couple startled, froze and began to jabber loudly, their panic only rising. Sorren's eyes narrowed as he crawled closer to them, playing into his more feral appearance. "Drop your purse." He snarled, displaying his fangs for added fierce flare. His eyes almost glowering with reflected light in the dark alley. He took another step, lowering a hand and dragging his nails on the stone as he went. The woman clutched at her neckline, the frills of her dress ruffling, Her eyes were wide, the fear blatant in her form, The man was trying to act a little less terrified, but Sorren could see in his eyes that he was lying with his bolstered shoulders. Sorren took another quick step closer to them. "Drop. It." His voice gutteral, reverberating against the stone walls. With a small squeak, the woman tossed her purse towards him, sheltering herself against her male companion. Sorren snatched the velvet pouch from the floor, its handles made of pearls. The bag itself would fatch a pretty penny. In a swift movement, Sorren span around and vanished into the rafters of the building beside them. His tail dissappeared into the roofing, he shuttled his way along the wooden beams and took up shelter in the middle. Like a mouse, he opened the pouch and began picking through it. A couple useful things and a decent handful of coin. Sorren smiled, he would be okay for a few days. Upon returning the tavern that afternoon, he gave the barkeep another payment. Covering him for the next few days, ensuring he wasn't sleeping on the sheets. After conversing with them for a few minutes, Sorren slipped back out the front, dressed in his usual loose linen top and corset. He pulled a small cigarette from his pocket and flicked his fingers on his left hand. Holding the cigarette to his lips, he formed an instant flame from his finger tips and lit the end. Dragging in a breath to light it properly, waving his left hand he put out the flame. Leaning against the wooden wall beside the front door, he observed the surrounding environment. His night of thievery forgotten mostly. Hugely thankful he had not spent the night in the dungeon, but he doubted he would see that guard again. If he were being honest, he hoped he wouldn't see him, it just meant he would be more likely to drag Sorren back to the castle and he would hang. A small huff of a laugh left him at the thought, he flicked the end of the cigarette to disturb the ash and make it fall to the ground by his feet. At least he could live in peace for the next few weeks, Cazador rarely asked for more than one thing a month which Sorren counted himself lucky for. He knew other marked that ask for something every two seconds, he didn't know how those poor people did it. |
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Oleander spent the day on edge, constantly looking over his shoulder for the guards he was certain were coming to arrest him. He flinched at every slam of a door or extra-loud footstep, and a few of his fellow guards even asked him why he was so jumpy. He stammered out some excuse about not sleeping well, and they seemed to take it at face value. He spent most of the day on duty guarding the palace's front gates, and he was so distracted that he nearly let several citizens through the doors without checking their identification prior. He heard no discussion of the missing jewels from the princess's room; he wondered if she had even noticed that they were missing yet. He was exhausted when the day finally ended, and the day guards were relieved by the night shift. He dragged his feet up to his quarters and began unbuckling his sword when he paused. Sorren had evidently made it back to Cazador without any incident; if he had been caught, Oleander certainly would have heard about it, given that he was in possession of the jewels. Before he could even think about what he was doing, he dropped his sword onto his bed, grabbed a cloak from his wardrobe, and whisked back out the door of his room. It was difficult to find the path he'd taken to the tavern previously; it was darker out that night, and several of the streetlamps were out, casting the street into pure darkness. Oleander finally stumbled across the path winding through the stone buildings by accident, and followed it mostly by touch, running his hand along the stone walls as he moved through the darkness. He could have cried with relief when he turned the corner and saw the warm, inviting lights of the tavern. If Sorren wasn't here, he supposed he could always make his way to Cazador's mansion and ask to see him - though he couldn't imagine that would go well, based on what he'd heard about the man. As he approached the tavern, he spotted a tall figure beside the door, smoking. His heart leapt in his chest: Sorren. He strode up to the man, trying to appear more confident than he felt. "I see you made it out alright." He surveyed Sorren as he spoke. His skin seemed clear of any injury, though Oleander supposed he could be injured beneath his clothing. He seemed relatively relaxed; Oleander hoped that he hadn't suffered any punishment. "Make it back okay?" he asked casually, remaining vague so that any eavesdroppers would be unable to glean what they were speaking about. |
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He closed his eyes as he drew in another long breath, letting the wonderful contents of his cigarette to flood through his bloodstream. A clever concoction of tobacco, chamomile and something else he couldn’t put his finger on, perhaps something magical. Wait…no, catmint. He felt the warmth enter his body, his broad shoulders relaxing. All he wanted to do was leave this awful city, run free of his chain. Sorren’s eyes opened, half-hooded as he stared at the ground, hopelessness emitting from his form. He knew he couldn’t leave. The only way he was leaving would be if he were to die. Which, with every passing day, grew to be a much more appealing option. He was about to flick his cigarette again when he heard shuffling and then heavy steps coming towards him. Sorren’s tail shot out straight and his shoulders tensed back up, he hoped it wasn’t that couple from earlier and somehow they had found him. His eyes wide and alert, but then they met the smaller form of Oleander and he shot off of the wall, dropping his cigarette forgotten on the cold stone. Sorren took a step towards him, one leg trailing behind him. He could see the man’s eyes flickering across his body, then finally up to his glowing eyes. “What are you doing here?” He hissed, ducking her head down and bending to be closer to Oleander's height. Smoke billowing out of his mouth as he spoke, almost reaching Oleander before it was carried away by the breeze. He scanned his eyes feverishly around them, looking for anyone that may be watching them from the nearby shadows. Tail lashing behind him, brushing the fur against the crumbling stones of the pavement. Finally returning his eyes to Oleander, he was clearly trying to act like they were simply two people talking at the tavern. But there was one small issue. “I’m fine, nothing happened.” His words were coming quickly. “You’re in your uniform!” He pressed the words out between his teeth, clearly looking a little panicked. “That’s a death wish down here unless you’re a noble’s guard dog.” Sorren raised his head back up, the cloak was hiding the back of his uniform from onlookers but the small opening in the front betrayed him. “I-I, we need to-” Sorren gritted his teeth before shooting his hands out to wrap the front of the cloak tighter around his front. “You need to keep that closed.” He sighed, hands slowly falling from the fabric. His heart was beating a mile a minute. Why was this guard here? Why was he looking for him? Why was he concerned about any injuries he sustained? This man was an odd one indeed. “I’m fine. He got his necklace.” Sorren chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, angling his head to the side so he could look down the nearby alleyway. The soft glow of the tavern lights reflecting off of the angles of his face. “Y’know, I’ve never seen him.” He softened his voice. “I’ve never seen this man. He sends his sons out to gather us up and uses paid labour to bring him the things we are forced to steal for him.” Sorren’s eyes returned to their half-hooded somberness, his tail slowly flicking at the tip from side to side. “They’re all bastards.” Sorren’s voice was cracked with a quiet snarl. |
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Oleander hadn't expected Sorren to be overjoyed to see him, but he certainly hadn't anticipated that the man would demand why he was there, evidently alarmed. He glanced down at his uniform as Sorren gesticulated frantically at it. "It's okay, I've got-" He was cut off as Sorren reached out and grasped the front of his cloak, pulling it tightly around him to obscure the uniform. Oleander blinked in surprise, but crossed his arms over his chest to keep his cloak shut anyway. Sorren was obviously agitated at his sudden , unexpected appearance, and he didn't want to antagonize him further. He frowned as Sorren mentioned that he'd never seen the man. "Never? That's... suspicious." He wondered privately what the man did for a living if he wasn't a merchant, and if it was illegal. If so, perhaps he could put in an anonymous tip to the captain of the guard, get Cazador arrested and Sorren freed from his debt... "Do you know what they plan to do with the necklace? I assume they'll sell it, but they'd be hard-pressed to find a buyer who'd take stolen royal jewels," he pressed gently. He knew that Sorren probably had no idea what was being done with the necklace, but it was worth a shot. If he did know of its whereabouts, perhaps they could get it back, return it to Sonnet's vanity without the princess ever knowing it was gone. "I don't think they've realized it's missing yet," Oleander murmured, moving closer to Sorren so that his voice would not be overheard by passerby. "I haven't heard anything about missing jewels, and they would definitely tell the guard if a theft had occurred. I don't think they suspect me, either," he added, in case Sorren was wondering. He was still on edge, certain that the rest of the guards were biding their time, waiting for the perfect moment to arrest him, but he knew logically that if he was a suspect, he would have been detained and questioned already. "Let's go inside," he said softly, nodding at the inviting orange glow streaming from the entrance to the tavern. As he stepped inside, he was surprised to see that it was significantly less crowded than it had been on the night he met Sorren; only a few patrons were inside, scattered at tables across the room. He headed for the bar and ordered a mead for himself, then one for Sorren as well. "I hope that's okay," he said sheepishly over his shoulder. He had no idea what the man drank, but mead was probably a safe bet. He collected their mugs and made his way to a table tucked into the back corner of the inn, gesturing for Sorren to sit across from him. He leaned across the table, lowering his voice once again. "What else do you know about Cazador? What does he do for a living? If it's illegal, I can tip off the guard, get an investigation going on him, and you can...". He trailed off, not entirely sure how to word his thoughts. Be free? No longer have to work for him? |
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Sorren drew his head back around to face Oleander as he began to talk about the damned necklace again, he never wanted to think about it again. Just another thing stolen for Cazador that he only wanted on a whim. He lifted his fingers to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose by his eyebrows and scrunched his eyes closed for a moment, sucking in a breath between his teeth. “I never know what they do with the things I bring them. He probably just adds them to his collection of various pretty things.” Sorren dropped his hand from his face and let out a huff of air, his breath still tinted with the scent of his cigarette. Cazador was an enigma, but he was highly regarded in his group and the surrounding circles. He was an immovable force, as were many noble merchant families, but Cazador was particularly cruel in his dealings. As Oleander began to move into the tavern, Sorren’s tall form followed after him, having to again duck to make it inside. Waiting patiently, as Oleander ordered a drink and then surprisingly one for Sorren. He was still bewildered as to why Oleander was even here, if he were him, Sorren would have avoided this place like the plague. Yet, when Oleander had spotted Sorren, he seemed…relieved. The inner workings of this man’s head were very confusing. He trailed after the smaller man like a puppy as he made his way towards the table in the back corner, grateful to be tucked away. “Thank you.” He flicked his tail as he slid into the seat, again not really fitting in the normal sized seat, but he was used to it. “We can’t tell the guard, they won’t do anything.” He waved a hand . “The merchants rule the money in this city, the royals are just a pretty distraction from the actual workings of the place.” Sorren kept his voice lowered. “You may not see it, but the merchants buy out the royals, keeping them fat and happy, and in return they turn a blind eye to their illegal activities.” He paused, watching Oleander carefully. Perhaps he was here to gain his trust. To tell him to alert the guard and just like that Oleander could proclaim that Sorren was the thief and he would be on the chopping block.. “Sure, it’s a royal necklace, but if the royals were to kick up a fuss over that, Cazador would just cut their funds.” Sorren concluded, they were all tangled up in a mess of relations and money. It was the one thing they cared about, money, wealth, status. Sorren’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the mead, he wasn’t the biggest fan but he was grateful for the mug being purchased for him. He lifted the mug to his lips and took in a mouthful, he winced ever so slightly. He was a sucker for good liquor but this just tasted like wheat water. He swallowed it down with a small amount of effort before placing it on the table again, attempting to give Oleander a look of gratitude instead of vague disgust that was plaguing his tongue. He much preferred a merlot, or whiskey, the deeper the taste the better. He ran a finger along the rim of the mug, thinking for a brief moment before he lifted his head, pausing his finger. “Why are you here? I’m just a,” Sorren searched for the words, letting them out in an exhaled chuckle. “A thieving degenerate, really.” His head tilting to the side. “So why do you care if I made it out with that necklace?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, but he asked it anyway. |
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Winter 
Day Weather: 
Fog
