Ezra walked along the side of the crowded, bustling Main Street in Alerar, watching the people walk around each other in a hurry to get to their destinations. His light eyes darted back and forth in a practiced manner, trying to find the easy marks that he knew would take no effort.He focused upon a small pouch hanging outside of an older man’s tunic, hung upon a rough, leather belt. He inwardly laughed, and, as if almost by habit, he walked past the man. With a quick, seamless motion of his hands, he pulled the purse free without causing a single suspicious movement to occur.

Ezra had been picking pockets for over a decade, and it had become almost second nature to him, an autonomic movement of the eyes and hands as he walked down streets. It almost pained him to let careless, unprotected purses like that to get away from him, even though he no longer needed to do it to make a living. It was just another bad habit that he had picked up over a lifetime of living as he had, and he enjoyed the rush far more than he would enjoy the meager gold someone so careless would be carrying.

As he held the purse in his hands, hearing the clink of coins, he was reminded of the letter he had received the night before while he was at the “Silent Maiden” having a drink.

The courier had been a small child he knew decently well from the market district. It was an usual occurrence for Ezra, as it was how his informant, Russel, had made regular contact with Ezra before. As usual, Ezra slipped the letter that he knew would be blank, into his shirt. The letter was just a signal that they had set up, Russel would never take the risk of sending something important or sensitive with a child, nor the coin that it typically cost for the information.

Ezra was making his way to the fish stall that Russel ran, taking part in the usual “low hanging fruits” he couldn’t help but pick, on a bright sunny day in Alerar. The streets were crowded as they typically were on a market day, which meant the pickings were good, with people distracted by the jugglers, bards, and other performers that made this area their place of business.

Ezra stopped at a stall that was nestled into a dark corner, that if someone cared to notice, was in the exact opposite place it should have been if it wanted to attract customers.

The fish stall smelled awful, with the smell of bait and fish too long left in the sun. The only person in the vicinity of the stall was a tall old man with long, grey hair, a wild, untamed beard, and one eye.

“Goo’ Mornin’ Shir! How’r da fish bittin for ya sho far?” The old man spoke with the intense stench of beer on his breath.

“Morning Russel, I got your letter, but it smells like you could have just met me at the tavern and had breakfast at the same time,” Ezra choked out while holding his nose, trying to keep the nauseating scents around him from making him sick.

“Not goo’ to break tradition…The godsh don’t like it. Makesh for a bad catch…” Russel said with a sly wink. “Now, I believe I have shomething for you if you’re intereshted.” The old man responded with a surprisingly deft movement of his hands, bringing out several rolled up pieces of paper.

Ezra knew that Russel’s sluggishness, his odd mannerisms, and even his slur were nothing more than affectations; he had an unnatural ability to hold his liquor. The old man was one of the sharpest people Ezra had ever met, and Ezra had heard a rumor that Russel had once himself been a pirate captain once upon a time, though Ezra never felt that it was a relevant topic to bring up with the old man.

“What are these?” Ezra asked, taking the scrolls of paper into his hands.

“Work, right up your alley I think.” Replied the drunk.

“There’s a business rival of a certain credit union official, that wants to try and do a two-fer. He wants first and foremost the have some incriminating evidence planted in the office of this official’s home, He desperately wants this man locked up. Secondly he wants the business ledger that contains all of the relevant information taken, and they interested party is willing to pay very well for both of these favors.” Russel whispered as Ezra pulled closer. “They’ve even supplied guard schedules and a blueprint of the house for your planning, this is an easy job kid. Very. Lucrative.”

Ezra’s eyes were scanning both of the papers as his hazel eyes began to light up.
“Russel, tell the client their job has been accepted. Your cut is the usual I’m guessing?”

“Aye, 30%. As always.”

Erza took the papers in his hand and smiled at the old man. “Agreed.