Horses, Shinies, and Silly Things

Three Months Prior...

“I say, boy! Budge your bottom or I’ll budge it with my cane!” The mean merchant scolded. He rapped his oaken cane on the stone porch as he came out the front door.

“Sorry, sir.” Jake Narmolanya replied, wiping his eyes with his black silk scarf. He'd come to Serenti thinking the pearl coasts might improve his mood, but it hadn't helped. He’d been sitting, crying over the loss of his best friend and steed, Gunner. The gelding had served him faithfully for many years, and the horse’s recent death had sent Jake into an emotional tailspin.

“Don’t be sorry, begone!” The fat man growled, advancing and thrusting his cane menacingly.

“Okay okay, no need for - ouch!” Jake had begun backing up, but not fast enough. The merchant thumped him in the ribs with his cane, and took a second swing as the half elf dodged backwards.

“Look, I didn’t mean to offend,” Jake said, both hands raised defensively, “I just needed a place to sit and think. I lost my closest friend, and-”

“N’jal take your friend, and your soul too! Now begone!” The portly man made another few feeble strikes at the half elf and then retreated into his manor house, slamming the door.

That miserable old bastard, Jake thought as he paced down the street, what a way to welcome someone to Serenti. If I ever come back here, I’m going to rob him.

~*~

Present Day...

“That miserable old bastard!” Jake slapped his copy of the Radasanthian Reader down on the tavern’s table. A few nearby folk looked his way, only for a moment, but long enough that a blush rose to his tanned cheeks. “Sorry, won’t happen again,” he murmured, green eyes cast low. He ran a hand through his thick dirty blond locks and re-read the headline in the newspaper.

Merchant Vard Smellson to sell a dozen Fallieni yearlings.

Jake remembered the fat merchant well. He’d vowed that if he ever returned to Serenti he would rob the man, and he’d been thinking recently of procuring a Fallieni yearling for training. It seemed a perfect storm had formed for him to steal something he desired from a man he rather desired to take something from.

The half elf sipped his ale, leaning back in the sawdust smell of the tavern and remembering what the merchant’s property looked like. It had been a big manor house with attached stables… perhaps a ranch would be the best word to describe it. He could picture the positions of the whitewashed fences and glaring red walls in his mind’s eye.

I’ll need a partner… someone to go in and do the stealing while I provide a distraction. But how to find such a partner? None of Jake’s friends approved of his thieving habits. In truth, he hadn’t stolen anything in years. But it would be worth coming out of retirement to burglarize the mean merchant of Serenti.

Could I place an article in the Radasanthian Reader? No, that’s too obvious. I’d be taken by the Watch. And then he remembered the bulletin boards he’d seen the last time he visited the black market district of the bazaar.

That could bloody well work!

The twisty, darkened corners of Radasanth’s black market sprawled before Fenn and his lupine steed, beckoning the duo deep into their depths. Somehow, the leaky alleys and mossy, crumbling walls suited the small Fae just fine. There was no better place to sell suspicious goods than here without questions being asked. Not that the particular goods Fenn had in mind were suspicious today; all he had was a plain silver fork and a pair of shiny rings. He’d been meaning to sell them for a while, but it had slipped his mind.

That was some pretty crummy loot for a venture into a dragon hoard, wasn’t it? Fenn sighed down at the frost-bitten remnants of the adventure in his hand. It’d be nice to go on an adventure that didn’t involve him almost meeting an unfortunate fate for near nothing in return. Now that he had a room in the House, he could afford to hoard much more stuff than he could in his trusty bag alone.

More shinies to pour through on rainy afternoons would be pretty great...

Shrugging, the boy pocketed his meager offerings and continued down the streets with the sticky panting of his partner on the back of his neck. Fenn’d noticed in the time since he had tamed Daugi that conmen and shadier dealers were much less likely to approach him when she was trotting at his side. Actually, most people hesitated before engaging him these days. Ahh, the benefits of friendship. “Wuff,” Daugi griped at his back, and her small friend’s ears quickly flicked in her direction. He glanced back at her to see her fluffy black mass flopping down in the middle of the trash-littered street. The few hurried passerby that came this way hesitated and gave her a wide berth on their way to other places.

Oh dear.

Fenn gave her a stern look and crossed his arms together. We’ve only been walking ten minutes! You haul my ass around for hours on end without complaint, but you can’t be bothered to go three streets without a nap?

Of course, there were always some drawback to taking care of the great beast. One was that when she got a funny notion into her head, there was very little her tiny caretaker could do to force her to behave. Still, he had to try. Fenn marched up to her and nudged her in the side, attempting to force her back to her feet. Daugi grunted, stretched… and rolled over, nearly squishing him flat into the road. A squeak escaped him as he hopped out of the way. Fenn huffed and berated her with scolding hand gestures. Bad dog! Now is not nap time!

She merely cracked open a blood red eye, her iris reflecting Fenn’s annoyance and her amusement.

Finally, the boy gave up. Fine. Have your nap. Maybe I’ll sleep too! He blew a raspberry and dropped to the ground next to her. Let me know when you’re done being lazy and dumb.

Sitting in place was a very good way to make Fenn bored. He sighed and stared up at the sky, wondering how dirty lying on this road was going to make him. Maybe he would have to take a bath after this. Gah, baths. He fell asleep in the last one and almost woke up a block of ice. He didn’t want to think about that. Really, he needed a good distract- hey, look, there was a piece of paper next to his head. Fenn yawned and eagerly picked it up, eager for something to read.

Thief seeking thieving partner for general thievery. Copious rewards promised!

There was also a date and a place for meeting listed on the paper. How vague, and how intriguing! Seeing as thievery was his specialty, Fenn was sure to check this out right away...

...or rather, he thought as he glanced back at his snoring direwolf, as soon as Daugi was done with her nap.

“Come on, Fenn. Come on, Daugi.”

Jake led the way through the night towards the Radasanthian horse ranch that would be the site of their first mission; a trial heist. The half elf wanted to get a feel for the fae’s skills, and the mute little fellow had insisted on bringing his dire wolf along. Jake’s boots beat the packed earthen road that ran outside the city proper. His breath misted in the cool air. He wore a dark green cloak to combat the chill, while his new friend seemed to rather enjoy the frostiness.

The pair had met over an ale in a local tavern at the time Jake had appointed. Well, Fenn had ordered juice. But Jake had an ale, and they’d discussed their criminal pasts as well as plans for thieving together in the future. Well, Jake had discussed it. Fenn had mostly gestured, writing things down on occasion when he needed to make a point. They had agreed that pulling a local job near Radasanth would allow them to solidify their teamwork before heading down to Serenti for the Fallieni yearlings.

“This will be no problem,” Jake assured Fenn as they crept along the base of the stone wall surrounding the property, “I used to steal horses all the time. Most merchants are too cheap to hire guards. They think a good lock and maybe a big dog will keep them safe.”

Dog? Fenn mouthed the word, clinging to Daugi’s neck as Jake stopped at the arching iron gate.

“Don’t worry,” Jake whispered as he produced two short bits of steel and deftly picked the lock on the gate, “I scouted this place beforehand. There’s no dogs!”

The half elf led the way into the ranch’s sprawling compound. He made sure to close the gate tight behind them and stayed by the walls within the thickest shadows, circling toward the large barn on the west side of the big house.

Clouds stifled the moon’s glow, and the ranch remained quiet as the three thieves sneaked into the rustic wooden barn. The door creaked shut behind them, and Jake slipped his scarf up over his nose to cover a sneeze. Straw dust hung thick in the air. He raised his palm and summoned a handful of fire to light their way.

The flickering flames illuminated long rows of horse stalls, each containing a short water trough and a bale of hay. About half the stalls were occupied by dozing horses, who came awake as the burglars approached. Nostrils flaring at the scent of dire wolf, one of the geldings let out a low whicker of alarm.

“Keep Daugi back,” Jake whispered to Fenn, “otherwise they’ll panic and we’ll get caught.” The half elf paced down the row, handful of fire held high. It did not take him long to pick out the steeds with the finest lines and healthiest teeth; he had been stealing and riding horses since he was a young boy.

Selecting a gray gelding and a brown mare, Jake coaxed the horses out of their stalls with soft clicking noises. They whinnied softly but did not rear or make enough noise to alert the merchant.

“Okay,” Jake called in a half-whisper as he led the horses back toward Fenn, “open the door!”

Horses were not creatures Fenn had any particular experience with. They certainly were not creatures he had experience in smuggling around; his typical style of thievery was petty pickpocketry and frequent fleeing. Yet, after his tavern chat with Jake, he came to the decision to partake in his heisting anyway. For one, that merchant sounded like he needed a sound ego-thrashing. For another, new experiences kept the boy on his toes, and he couldn’t refuse the promise of gold.

Fenn oogled at the equines from up-close, marveling at their torchlit coats and slender frames. Jake seemed to know what he was doing in as he inspected each one for… well, whatever one judged horse quality by.

Daugi oogled them too, but it was less in awe as it was in hunger. Drool dribbled out from between her teeth whenever she poked her head through the narrow of the doorway. This worried Fenn a little. Normally, she knew better than to hunt domestic animals and other mounts. Though, in a setting such as this, absent of marketplace crowds or the owners and protectors of the mounts themselves, she was a little bolder. Stay, Fenn told her through a stern pat on the head, nudging her nose down toward the ground. Sit.

She snuffled the air excitedly and plomped her butt down on the cold grass, peering in at the proceedings with a thumping tail.

Quickly, Jake selected a pair of horses and began leading them out with muted clicks of his tongue. Fenn watched carefully made a mental note to himself; horses had to be stolen gently. “Okay, open the door!” their fellow thief called back to them in hushed tones. With a confirming salute, Fenn grabbed one creaking door by the end and slowly dragged it all the way open, enough for Jake and his pilfered ponies to pass through.

As the horses went past, Daugi eyed them sharply, her nostrils flaring as she leaned in their direction. In turn, they eyed her with quivering unease. Jake calmed them with gentle stroking and hushed reassurances, bringing them out into the moonlight of the pasture. Almost there!

Fenn bounced on his toes excitedly and glanced over at his mount. What he saw soundly prevented his imminent victory dance.

That slight wiggle of her hindquarters, the way she crouched down at her fore; the direwolf was definitely setting to to strike. She seemed to be waiting until they were at proper pouncing distance. Fuck! Bad dog! Immediately, Fenn sprung into action. Mauling a wild deer was one thing, but disrupting something like this was another! The tiny boy unthinkingly grabbed onto his beast’s tail, only to be whisked off his feet by the force of her leap. Yoink!

Daugi’s lunge missed the grey gelding’s hindquarters by a bare inch, likely thanks to the sudden weight of the small child clinging to her tail. The horses spooked and screamed at the sudden movement from behind. The whites of their eyes rolled into view as they crashed past Jake and away from the direwolf.

This was not going to go well.

The horses screamed and raced about the enclosed yard, hooves churning up chunks of sod. Daugi gnashed her teeth as Fenn fought valiantly to keep the wolf under control.

“Not the horses!” Jake cried, and leaped upon the dire wolf’s back, adding his weight to Fenn’s in their effort to corral the great beast. Daugi whined and growled, salivating at the sight of the racing steeds. Jake grimaced and strengthened his grip around her neck.

“Ho! Who’s there?” A voice called. A man in a nightshirt holding a winking lantern appeared from the house’s front door. His eyes widened as he saw the two horses racing about the lawn, and the two boys and the wolf in the shadows by the wall.

“Thieves! Stop there!” The man cried. “See how you like the looks of my longsword!” He ducked back into the manor to retrieve his weapon.

“We’d better get out of here, otherwise we’ll end up having to hurt this merchant.” Jake hissed. Fenn’s eyes widened and the Fae leaped up on Daugi’s back behind the half elf. Tiny heels dug into the wolf’s flanks, and they darted around the corner of the barn before the merchant could see where they’d gone.

“Hold on a moment,” Jake said. He slid off the wolf’s back and conjured a portal in front of them, the air shimmering and pulsating around it. It led only a short distance, back to the road they had traveled to get there. He activated the portal with a touch and led Daugi and Fenn through.

Or rather, he tried. The wolf did not want to budge, nostrils still flaring at the scent of horseflesh. Jake seized two handfuls of downy fur and heaved. Fenn patted frantically on Daugi’s head and heeled the beast’s sides. Finally they managed to urge the wolf through the portal, with the merchant’s shouts ringing in their ears.

“Dastardly thieves!”

They made haste along the road, putting distance between them and the botched heist. Fenn’s face drooped apologetically as he looked down from his perch on Daugi’s back.

“It’s okay, buddy.” Jake assured him, “next time, we won’t bring the wolf along.”

They traveled back to the inn where Jake had left his supplies. He settled up the fee for his room and gathered his haversack, as well as a packed canvas tent. Shouldering the bag and hoisting the bundle in both arms, Jake led his companions to a nearby alleyway. It smelled rather rank and featured an assortment of trash, but provided the privacy Jake wanted for conjuring his next portal.

He envisioned a forest clearing he had found not far from Serenti… he saw the flattened grasses, he smelled the swaying flowers, he heard the trees creaking in the breeze. A portal sprang to life in front of them, and Jake led the way through.

“We’ll camp here for the night, and hit the mean merchant tomorrow,” Jake explained as he began setting up the tent, “you and Daugi gather some firewood while I see to this.”

Fenn felt a mite bit embarrassed over the whole spectacle. He buried his face in Daugi’s mane, giving her a stern glint of his eyes. She merely seemed sullen about being denied such a ponderous meal.

“It’s okay, buddy.” Jake had said of the ordeal. He didn’t seem terribly bothered about their failure. “Next time, we won’t bring the wolf along.” Fenn nodded resolutely. Indeed! Next time, she was getting sent off to do some hunting on her own while the stealing took place. Then she’d be less hungry by the time she got around to seeing the horses.

Now that they were by Serenti, resting themselves for the actual heist tomorrow, the wolf was much more serene. She trotted next to Fenn and kept an eye on the underbrush, watching each swish of the grass in anticipation of something to replace those delicious horses. A small bone was sniffed out of the leaves and crunched. Nommy.

Meanwhile, her tiny friend combed the ground for twigs and bark as directed, trying to find something suitable for a campfire. Where there were low dead branches, he simply snapped them off and added them to the pile in his arms. He wrapped his cloak around his hands so that he didn’t accidently frost his shrimpy stores over. A glance back at Jake saw him still setting up the tent. It seemed funny to Fenn that someone would bother to make a tiny cloth house just to sleep in. What was wrong with the trees, for goodness sakes? They made good hammocks if you could find a nice forked branch.

Hrmm. He glanced back over at his fellow thief again, mentally measuring him as the young man finished putting the tent into place. Actually, maybe humans -- elves? -- were just too big to fit in trees, like Daugi. Now he just felt sorry for them.

Fenn bounded back into the clearing with a rather smug Direwolf at his heels and dumped the lump of wood into a drier patch of ground near the tent, coughing as a cloud of dirt mushroomed into his face. He glanced up at the star-studded sky as he wiped off the dust. It was getting late. Stifling a yawn, Fenn pointed proudly to his procured fire supply. Most -- which was Jake? -- uh, sentient non-Frost Fae required heat to survive, but not so much Fenn. Making things hot was not a skill he possessed nor needed, so he supposed actually making the fire would be up to Jake himself. The boy was glad to have been of use though.

The tent smelled of must and cabbages, but it had a serviceable ceiling and leather door-flaps that could seal tightly against wind and insects. Jake wondered if they would bother using it, after all. The outside air was easier on the nose, and the night turned out to be fairly temperate.

A crescent moon peered between the latticework of branches and leaves overhead. A slight chill crept through the air, and Jake shivered and did up the top button of his jacket.

“Excellent firewood acquisition,” Jake grinned at Fenn as the frost fae dumped his armload of twigs near the tent. The half elf sat down and shaped the sticks into a cubelike formation, made of layers so that fresh wood would fall into the fire as the kindling burned to ash.

“Stand back,” Jake followed his own advice, hopping to his feet and retreating a step. He raised his hands and bit his lip, focusing as he called on his connection to the Eternal Tap. A ball of fire the size of a pebble appeared between his hands, pulsating and growing until it was bigger than his head. He tossed the fireball carefully into the sticks, and they erupted in flame with whoosh! of displaced air. Heat flared for a moment, but then settled lower as the campfire crackled merrily.

Jake sat close to the dancing flames and shrugged out of his haversack. He undid the drawstrings as firelight played over his face and produced a heel of bread, several chunks of cheese, and some strips of saltbeef. He split the bread and stacked half the cheese and dried meat on one heel, passing it to Fenn, who bobbed his head in thanks and tore into the food hungrily.

It was odd, having a mute partner in crime. As Jake enjoyed the salty, savory flavours he found the silence comfortable, but a little strange. The shapes of the trees out in the darkness seemed to call for some sound. A story, perhaps.

“The horse we’re looking to steal tomorrow will be a yearling,” Jake said, curling his knees against his chest as he finished his food. “A little, young one. I got my last horse Gunner as a yearling.”

Fenn’s expressive green eyes seemed to ask, what happened to him?

“We had many great adventures together. He saved my life several times. Until one day in Alerar… I was searching for a Crystal Sword called Long, the Dragon. I ran afoul of some bandits and they put four musket balls in Gunner’s flank before I knew what was happening. I buried him alongside the road, after I killed the elves responsible.”

Fenn’s wide emerald orbs expressed his condolences, and he reached out to pat Jake on the shoulder.

“Thanks buddy. You would have liked Gunner. I’m sure Daugi would have as well… perhaps too much.” The half elf chuckled as the dire wolf snuffled at the mention of her name.

Nodding agreeably, Fenn stuffed the last of the squishy bread into his mouth. The light from the fire was lively and comforting, even if the warmth wasn’t doing much for him. Jake was likeable, Fenn decided as he chomped on his delicious offerings, his ears pricked. Jake provided free food and stories. He passed a tidbit of salted meat to Daugi, who snapped up the treat happily. It was hard to imagine a life without the dumb mutt these days; whatever emptiness that was like, that was probably what Jake was feeling without Gunner.

The rest of the evening passed in muted conversation after they concluded their meal. Using a smooth chunk of tree bark as a doodlepad for his frosty questions, Fenn inquired a bit about Jake’s past exploits as a thief. It was nice to have someone to trade stories with. Direwolves, for all their companionship, did about as much talking as Fenn himself.

He learned that Jake was not currently very thief-y, but had made an excellent exception for the mean merchant they were targeting tomorrow; he defeated demons more often than purloining pouches these days. A tale was spun, describing the first demon Jake had hunted. And that was how he got his magic portal powers!

And also he learned that Jake was indeed both elf and man. Hooray for discovery!

In turn, Fenn told Jake of the time he tried -- and mostly failed -- to steal from the hoard of the Ice Wyrm Nippariess. Most of it was told in crude drawings, because it was a pretty long story, but Jake seemed to get the gist of it regardless. Either that, or he was just amused by the attempt. Eventually, the fire dimmed and the sky grew dark and heavy with stars. A yawn stretched unbidden over Fenn’s face, and his eyelids were heavy.

Jake smiled and ruffled his hair in a friendly if uncertain fashion. “You look tired, buddy. How about we hit the hay for now? We’ll need to be well-rested for tomorrow.”

The boy agreed wholeheartedly.

Jake ended up sleeping partially inside the tent and partially out the flaps. Fenn declined invitation to join him, instead curling comfortably up in the nook of a tree, Daugi sitting at the base of the trunk below.

The silky night passed over them, and morning came. The boy cheerfully ignored the sunlight as it shone into his shut eyes, his capricious sleeping habits demanding a late wake-up today. No such luck. “Hey Fenn! Today’s the day,” Jake called up to him. Groaning, Fenn slid into a comfortably batlike position, hanging off the branch by his feet to narrow his eyes at the wake-up call. Daugi was already bright-eyed and bushy tailed, her tongue lolling out of her mouth as she waited for her “pup” to descend from his bed. “Are you ready for the heist?”

At the word heist, Fenn jolted to alertness and enthusiastically rubbed the sleep from his eyes, suddenly much more awake than the moment before. He was always ready for adventure!

They reviewed the plan and then portaled to the merchant’s doorstep, leaving Daugi to hunt in the forest. The early morning sun illuminated the cracked cobblestone stoop that Jake had memorized when the merchant kicked him off of it three months prior.

“Circle around the side,” Jake whispered, pointing, “that’s where the horses are kept, and there’s an entrance to the main house where you should find all the shinies your pockets can hold. And remember, the yearlings are the little ones!” Fenn ducked beneath the windows as he slipped off around the corner of the building.

“Right,” Jake mumbled to himself, shrugging off his haversack, “for the distraction…” he pulled a long green sifan cape and a matching dyed leather half-face mask from the pack. Donning both articles, he rapped on the door and struck a dramatic pose with fists on hips and elongated mask nose in the air.

He stood there for a full minute, unwavering, until the merchant opened the door, bleary eyed in his nightshirt. It was clear he’d been sleeping in.

“What the… what?” The fat man asked, utterly puzzled.

“I am the Great Green Gallantro, here to amaze you!” Jake said in a theatrical voice. He swirled his cape and spun and leaped, turning a twisting flip and landing with arms upraised.

“Who?” The merchant asked.

“The Great Green Gallantro! Surely you have heard of me! I am the premier private entertainer in all of Corone! Witness the wonder!” Jake cartwheeled and landed balanced on one foot on the edge of the stoop.

“Why?”

“Surely such an influential man as you must have many friends he needs to entertain at dinner parties and such… The Great Green Gallantro is at your service.” Jake hopped backwards off the stoop and bowed deeply, swirling his cape about.

The merchant rubbed sleep from his eyes and leaned on the doorframe.

“Can you juggle?” He asked.

Why does everyone always want juggling? Jake wondered. He dug six stones out of the garden and tossed them into the air in a rapid crisscrossing pattern, catching each and tossing it again before it could hit the ground. The crisscross became a wheel, and the wheel became a figure of eight. Juggling was bloody boring.

“Now that is impressive!” The merchant exclaimed. He applauded softly for a moment.

Jake wanted to throw the stones at him, but instead he kept them spinning through the air, hoping that Fenn was already inside the manor.

Fenn was going to steal shiii-nies, Fenn was going to steal shiii-nies…

Parting his way through the brindled grass around the house, Fenn could still hear an echo of Jake's silly spiel by the time he reached the stables. There was a padlocked gate in the way, and then a padlocked door, but neither were a real match for Fenn. What were locks, other than ways for people to try and keep him out of interesting places? And nothing kept Fenn out of interesting places. With a pair of sturdy copper pins, the locks fell to the excitable thief.

Once inside, he wandered down the aisle on light feet, hoping to avoid spooking the horses. Without a slavering direwolf around, horses were far less skittish creatures, it seemed. One mare gave a soft whicker as it leaned over to snuffle the little Fae's frosty hair curiously. An unheard giggle welled up inside Fenn as he surveyed the inhabitants in their stalls.

Jake wanted one of the tinier horses, right? Yearlings.

There were a few spindly, bright-eyed creatures that were small enough to be yearlings, kept together in a larger stall at the rear of the building. One was sort of gold-whitish in color, and the other was kind of black-spotted on top of the gold-white. Both paced their confines with a boundless, impatient energy. They would probably do.

With a shrug, the boy unlatched the stall gate and peered in. The two yearlings perked up and peered at the stranger in their midst. Fenn tapped his chin and pushed the gate open a little further, thinking hard. Jake just sort of led the horses out last time. But how was he to get them out? Use a rope? Ride them like Daugi? Before he could come to a satisfactory conclusion, the boy was knocked flat on his rump as the three yearlings made a wild gallop out of their stall. Whump!

The boy's mouth dropped into a little circle of surprise as the little horses bolted out of the open stables and paddock, whinnying gladly all the way.

Oh dear. Stealing horses was not the same thing as stealing food or shinies. Fenn dazedly clambered back to his feet, brushing dirt and straw off of his clothes. That would have to do, he supposed. At least the horses were out of the stables now. And he hadn’t even had to do anything to get them out! Jake could probably catch them later, since he appeared to be a sort of magic horse whisperer. Right?

The boy's greedy green gaze glanced between the giddy runaway yearlings, and the door to the inside of the house. It was right where Jake said it would be.

He could probably still spare a moment to rummage through, if he was quick…

An unconcerned grin lighting up his face, Fenn pulled out his picking pins and set to work on the door. Shinies ahoy!