The Grand Heist! (Closed)

[Myth Anlegand]

The cellar was dark, lit only be a small candle lantern, that rested atop a few small crates covered in maps and documents of the city, though it was the middle of a clear day outside. A thick dust and the smell of wood filled the air of this place used to store various bits and pieces that most people would consider junk, many of the things looked old and broken but upstairs in The Ceramic Bull, people came and paid outrageous prices for these small bits of tat they simply must own saying things like ‘It’s just what I need to bring the room together’ or ‘It’s a wonderful conversation piece.’ All of this however was far beyond the understanding of Myth, who lay asleep on some of the crates as the shops fat tan and brown cat called Hunter lazily draped over his stomach watching a rat nibble at some bread that had not been finished. Hunter purred loudly, he had once been a lean fit cat bought to deal with the rat problem, but several years had passed and no matter how many rats he ate, more kept coming and his owner already fed him twice a day leaving Hunter unable to hunt anything unless he accidently managed to fall on a rat, even then there was a fifty fifty chance it would get away.

The rat paused and looked at Hunter, then its ears twitched and quickly scurried off into a dark corner somewhere, carrying the remains of the bread with it. Footsteps echoed from the doorway, stopping as they reached the threshold the door itself creaking open slowly to reveal a huge menacing figure. He was a bald man with several chins but chiselled features, he was very easy to imagine in bloody overalls carrying a cleaver, Everything about the man would remind them of freshly cut cold meat, a butcher who moved quietly for such a big man till he towered over the figure sleeping on the crates, a huge hand reaching down and stroking the cat gently behind the ear as its purring intensified and started to pad, kneading its claws into Myth who startled awake.

His eyes opened, he saw the large figure outlined in the halo of candlelight, felt the sharp stabbing pain in his side and he flailed rolling back and dislodging Hunter who tried to momentarily cling to his bed before jumping to safety and immediately start to lick himself. Myth however did not have the dexterity of a cat and ended up crashing onto the floor behind the crates knocking the wind out of himself. The shadow turned and picked up the lantern from the table, peering over the crates at the collapsed figure, “You alright down there? ‘ts only me, didn’t mean t’ wake you.” asked Morris in his usual gruff tone with concern tinging his voice. Morris owned The Ceramic Bull, much to the surprise of anyone who had ever been it it, There were narrow shelves stacked with fragile bits and pieces but somehow the big man managed to move effortlessly between them he was a kind soul despite appearances and had known Myth for a long time, Once hiring him to recover some goods that had been stolen from him.

Morris offered his hand to help Myth stand up, the black clad figure took it gratefully as his laboured breathing started to return. “Ah Morris, yes, I’m fine, Just need to catch my breath.” Myth replied in his high, strained tones as he dusted himself off and adjusted his clothing.He wore a black vest over a white doublet with a white cravat, He also had loose black britches that tucked into soft dark grey boots, the rest of his clothing had been rolled up and used as a pillow. His skin was pale and his cyan eyes were bright in the dark.

“You’ve got some web in yer hair” Morris helpfully pointed out as Myth immediately flicked it off.
“Is it gone, is it gone” he asked quickly still pulling at his hair to make sure none of it remained.
Morris gave the briefest of glances before nodding as he set the Candle lantern back down on the central crates as Hunter came to weave between his legs affectionately. “Got the web out but t’ spider is still there.” he eventually added with smirk.
“Ahhh” Myth screamed shaking his head and redoubling his efforts to dislodge anything that may be entangled with his orange locks. “I hate spiders, can’t stand them,” he whimpered.
“Was only pullin’ yer leg lad” Morris chuckled picking up a small crate from a low shelf.
“Oh…. Ha ha… Hilarious.” Myth complained narrowing his already narrow eyes at the man before remembering. “Has anyone been in yet about…”
“No one yet lad, I am sure they will be though.” Morris interrupted, apparently finding what he was looking for and replacing the small crate on its shelf. “Will be sure to send ‘em down when they do.” he added making his way for the stairs that lead up to the shop itself, closing the door behind him.

“Lad, I’m older than you sonny jim” Myth muttered to himself when he was alone, Hunter had left with Morris, tail swishing. Myth was an elf, despite his youthful appearance he had walked the world for over 70 years though had only matured for a tenth of those. He clambered over the crates he had been using as a bed and inspected those that were lay out on the central makeshift table. There were only so many times he could look them over, all of the information he had currently gathered on the Alreyashin, that was being brought to the city soon to be put on display, that is if he didn't get there first. Myth planned on stealing this...thing, he hadn’t even been able to find out what it was, something made as a symbol of unity and a work of art, apparently contained some magic too but that's all anyone knew. Nevertheless it was the perfect mark, it would make his name known across the land and earn him a bit of money too, but he knew that doing it alone was going to be difficult so he had called in a few favours and had the word spread that he was looking for a crew and to meet him here. It had already been 2 days and time was running out.

[redrout]

The letter had come for Joseph, oddly enough, from his own father, who didn’t know at all the kind of business that Joseph was in, namely killing people and stealing things. Luckily he hadn’t opened the letter, merely forwarded it to him. Someone must have made a mistake somewhere in sending them out. Joseph smirked a little through the dirt on his face as a passerby dropped a piece of silver into his cup. The letter was simple, and to the point. Almost curt, really; it read:

Heist planned, generous reward for all parties. Details to follow.

Below the note was the name of a shop in Radasanth as well as a date.

“What an odd place,” Joseph thought aloud, glancing at the sign that read ‘Ceramic Bull’ before returning his eyes to the small metal cup he held. He jangled the few coins within for a moment and set it down again in front of him, on the side of the road. And an even odder name, he thought, bringing his hands inside the pockets of his worn jacket. He pulled on a pair of worn leather fingerless gloves. Joseph had decided to be a beggar this eve, one of those city dwelling folk that called no attention to themselves. It was an excellent disguise, he thought, considering most people took one glance at a beggar and then tried their hardest not to look again. His shoes were nearly worn through, his pants were ripped a bit at the hems and had patches at the knees, and his shirt was worn thin with several holes in it. The enterprising assassin patted at a leather strap on his chest which held his twin daggers behind the jacket, out of sight. Joseph had splashed a little dirt on himself to fit the part, and largely it was working. The people that walked by in this part of town never gave him a second glance; in fact they didn’t even look in his direction. He sat about thirty yards from the place on the opposite side of the road, and watched as what he hoped were the last customers left the store, walking down the street away from Joseph.

He stood, knees slightly bent and back hunched, and picked up his small cup, taking care to play the part by staring at the road in front of him most of the time as he took shuffling steps down the road. He’d been in the area for nearly an hour casing the place as afternoon slowly turned into evening, and learned much about the place as well as its clientele. For lack of a better term, this shop sold expensive knick-knacks and décor for the discerning wealthy merchant or minor noble.

The assassin ascended the two steps up to the tiny porch and opened the door. Seeing the place empty, save the shopkeeper, Joseph shook off the illusion he had been projecting, much like someone shakes off the snow from their jacket. Gone was the hunched back, the bent knees and weary eyes. In their place, Joseph stood straight, and looked curiously at the shop’s wares, striding towards the back. The shopkeeper was a portly man, but seemed one of those folk who possessed immense strength despite the generousness of their waistband; not to mention the fact that he was just a huge individual. He raised an eyebrow across the counter as he looked at Joseph, not quite knowing what to make of him. Joseph smiled easily and spoke, his face still coated with a little dust.

“I’m here for the party, friend,” he said, extending a hand. “Adrian, at your service,”

Now knowing what was going on, the massive shopkeep extended his hand as well, smiling pleasantly despite his ominous visage and form.

“Morris, pleasure’s mine,” he responded, sticking a massive thumb from his other hand behind him toward a flight of stairs that led to a basement. “Party’s in the back, he’s been waiting.”

Joseph walked around the counter toward the stairs. “I’ll be sure to apologize.”

The stairs led down into a basement with a forest of crates inside, with one lantern shedding weak light to the rest of the large room. It would have been eerie, had it not fit the business they would be conducting. An elf sat on a crate, looking at diagrams on another set of crates forming a table of sorts. Joseph smiled, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out his pipe. He set about packing it with his favorite cherry flavored tobacco as he sat down on one of them, disturbing a small layer of dust. He spoke up, producing a small book of matches from his jacket.

“So, I hear you want to steal something?” He asked, knowing that whatever it was, it would be interesting.

[Poison]

The informant had been discreet as ever. A priceless artifact bound to be put on display in Radasanth was to be stolen by an up and coming thief. Further details than that were only speculation. The informant had not been given much to go on, but he knew his lady's tastes and temper. It was better to have bored her with something useless than to have missed it for a lack of information. She could decide for herself if she wanted to pursue such an endeavor as this. Given his meager information, the meeting was only a few moments. Once he had his usual fee safely pocketed away, the rags clad informant hurried away.

Radasanth. I haven't been back there in a very long time.

At the thought of Radasanth, the silver-haired woman absentmindedly ran her fingers lightly over the titanium chain about her neck. A locket of similar material hung from that chain, hidden in her cleavage. True silver burned her pale skin, so the gifter had made sure there wasn't a drop of the treacherous metal anywhere in either chain or locket. The barest hint of a fond smile slightly lifted the corners of her lips. The man who had given her the locket had been aging when he gave his gift. She wondered briefly if he still lived, then shook the thought away. It had nothing to do with the matter at hand: whether or not to return to Radasanth to aid in the theft of this aritfact.

Radasanth was a good distance from the hovel of a tavern in Knife's Edge her informant had found her in. Travel was not cheap. However, there wasn't anything to keep her here. Not that there was every anything to keep her anywhere very long. She simply hadn't bothered to leave Knife's Edge since coming here several months ago for another job. In the end though, she couldn't resist the allure of what presented itself as a tricky challenge.

Poison was going home.


~~~~

The familiar smells and sounds of the city greeted the vampire like an old friend. Depsite her original misgivings about returning here, enjoying the feeling of being home was a welcome surprise. She walked quickly through the streets, deftly avoiding the ragged beggar children trying to pick pockets. She wondered for a moment if they belonged to her former band, doubtful as it was. Her comrades-in-crime had barely tolerated children, let alone employ them.

Fortunately, the captain of the ship she'd taken had been gracious enough to allow her to wait until dusk to exit the ship. It was the most amount of sunlight her delicate skin could stand. That hadn't always been the case, but, every month it seemed, her “condition” worsened. Her blood appetite had been increasing as well. Both in quantity and in how often she needed to feed. She loathed the changes. Even more so because she had not yet found a way to reverse the effects of a vampire's bite.

She paused in a stone archway, laying her hand against the cool stone and took a deep breath. Now was not the time to dwell on such things. Ahead of her she could see the shop in which she'd been told to meet the orchestrator. Pulling her hood over her face, she stepped inside.

“Good day to ye, we're almost ready to close. Can I help you with something?”

Poison looked up at the sound of a voice addressing her, “Yes, I was told to meet someone here.”

“Oh, yes. Downstairs.”
Poison nodded her thanks and slipped quietly down the stairs. She arrived just behind another man, scrunching up her nose at the stench of tobacco.

“I hope you're not expecting more than this. More than three for the same job starts getting difficult to properly execute. Before I commit to this, I need to know a few things. One, what exactly are we going after? Two, what is the pay? Three, do you have an idea of the security we are up against?”

She let her hood down and waited expectantly for answers.

[Myth Anlegand]

Myth looked up as he heard the voice, pretending as if he had not noticed this person until now, hand resting casually by a dagger on the makeshift table of crates, he smiled. "Want to steal, no, going to steal, yes." Myth stretched as he stood up yawning deeply as he did but still keeping his wits about him, despite, not appearing to. He eyed the newcomer for a long moment, He hadn't met him before, not someone from his usual circles so he didn't know of there skill level. "Still..." he said to himself softly under his breath, then mouthing 'I can't afford to be too choosy, time is running out.' "The question is, if you have what it takes to be able to help me? this isn't going to be easy and I don't need any dead weight." He lied, it would at least cause a bit of a distraction for him but best not to appear too eager. But where are my manners, you have only just arrived, please, it's not much but take a seat, no need to be uncomfortable, We are all -” He stopped suddenly mid gesture to a box, every movement overly theatrical, he looked to the door hearing more footsteps walking down the stairs.

“Wel-” he had started in greeting to the newcomer before being interrupted without even so much as an introduction. A woman, well, things were certainly looking up in Myths opinion. he absent mindedly adjusted his clothing as he had left himself in quite a disheveled state thinking that no one would actually turn up, he stared at this woman only just catching the last question, then mentally replaying what she had just said and then having to process it. The silence stretched on for only a mere moment as Myth was good at improvising. “Ah well of course, and I will provide the answers to all of your questions and more.” he said with confidence stalling for time as he thought of answers. “But please, take a seat, can I get you a drink? I am sure there was some wine around here.” He added, making a show of looking around the room until he felt like he had thought enough about what she wanted to know. “Ah, nevermind that… I am sure you are dying to hear about the job.” Myth picked up the lantern from the center table and draped a cloth around it until only a small circle of light was showing on the wall, he flexed his wrists and spread his fingers to draw attention to them, gesturing to the circle of light in one fluid motion as the shadows started to move.

“We are going to be stealing the Alreyashin, What that is exactly, no one knows for sure as it has never publicly been on show, its grand unveiling will be here. In Radasanth” The shadows shifted and spread into a rough approximation of the city's layout. “It is something that was created by the dark elves over in Ettermire and it is Magical.” The shadows shift to that of a boat rendered in full familier detail “There are two days left before it is transported from there to here, by boat and under guard, it will then be transported, likely at night when the curfew is in effect, to the ‘Radasanth Gallery.’” The shadows show two guards, picking up a chest and walking. “Where it will be held until its unveiling the following day at some grand event… but before it gets to that, we will hit them when they least expect it.” Several shadows will dart towards the guard carrying the box then 3 more figures will approach and open the chest, one holding up a chalice shape floating above them before the shadows fade and Myth takes the hood off of the lantern filling the small dusty cellar with soft yellow light again.

“So, easy enough, and whatever this is… it’s priceless and I have a buyer already lined up, they are rich too, you will practically be able to name your price on this one. As for the security, I can’t imagine them sending many from Ettemire to escort it, so a couple of dark elves, maybe a dwarf or two and of course the local guards… but they are easy enough to avoid if you know what you are doing.”

Myth turned to look at the two who had come to see him, They did not look like much, but in this line of work that was usually an advantage. “A simple smash and grab, I just need some extra muscle to make sure it all goes smoothly. So if you are willing…” he trailed off, raising his shoulders and eyebrows in an expressively quizzical fashion. “I mean, there is still some time to think things over and find out some more information. But what do you say? Have any more questions?” Myth said and smiled at the woman adding. “Maybe we could get some drinks to celebrate after.” There was a pause before he looked to the other occupant. “All of us… I mean… of course.” he stopped and started defensively. Myth struck his own palm to his forehead “Ah, I do apologize, how could I have forgotten I am Myth.” He paused for effect, the room getting momentarily darker, the shadows cast by the crates flickering wildly. “Myth Anlegand” He flourished into a bow, cursing himself for not having his full attire on causing the whole thing to be missing the same impact than it would usually, still he put on a brave face righting himself and smiling. “So, do we have a deal?”

He kept his eyes on the two, both in vision at the same time, just in case one of them said no he had to be ready to act, he could not let them leave now after hearing what was going to be done, they could try to turn him in, or worse, become competition. Well, he would avoid that by not telling them who the interested party was that would give him a little leverage, most fences wouldn't touch an item this hot because they would never be able to sell it, probably, that fact that few people actually knew what it was probably made it both easier and harder to shift.

[redrout]

"Though I am good at what I do," Joseph said calmly as he waved his match over the pipe, sucking in the cherry-flavored aroma until the pipe's filling glowed faintly in the dim light. He waved the match around and it was extinguished. He continued to speak through the pipe, leaning his back against a section of stacked crates. "I am better at planning and killing than stealing, but I'd be happy to lend a hand, as long as my share doesn't get shorted that is," he continued, smiling broadly. He motioned to the plans scattered across the crate table, ignoring the flirtatious nature of his male compatriot. The side of Joseph's mouth upturned a little as he realized that he did indeed look like a mangy bum from off the street.

Besides, vampires weren't quite his style anyways. He spoke up to Myth, who had just finished his flourishing introduction. Quite an introduction it was, Joseph presumed there was a little bending of reality in the air for dramatic effect. The assassin spoke up, blowing a smoke ring that hung, undisturbed, in the air of the basement for a second.

"I assume we'll need someone who knows the inside, and what the thing actually looks like? We'll need to know what we're stealing if we're going to steal it eh?" He asked, smiling broadly. "I can be persuasive if I need to be. Is there anyone who would know what it looks like that nobody would....miss, per se?"

[Poison]

She watched the shadow and light show with interest, listening carefully. Despite Myth's insistance that it would be simple, she had her doubts. Nothing of that caliber was ever simple to steal. They would need to be particularly careful in how they handled this. Everyone would need to be exactly where they were supposed to be, when they supposed to be there or it would all fall apart rather quickly. Still, it had been sometime since she'd had the pleasure of a thrilling heist. If nothing else, this offer certainly promised that.

“I appreciate the offer of drinks, Myth,” she purred with a smile. “I will consider it. As for the job, I'm in. It's been a long time since I had such an exciting opportunity. Be wary though, it may not be as simple as you think. I've seen what can happen to an overconfident crew with a big heist like this.”

That much was true, though it had been many years. For a brief, flicker of a moment, grief filled her eyes as the image of a former lover's hanging body flashed in her mind's eye. She pushed the image away nearly as quickly as it had appeared. All thieves knew the circumstances of getting caught; being emotional over them solved precisely nothing.

“You gentlemen may call me Poison. I also have a few connections here in Radasanth that could help us.” She looked across at the smoker, “I don't believe you've given us a name...”

[Myth Anlegand]

Myth listened to the beggar man and nodded. “It would be good to know more about this thing and there is still room for more planning and I’m sure killing will be involved though if possible avoided I hope. They could not have done this in complete secret, whatever it is being transported the Gallery would have to have an area set up to house it so builders, maybe catering staff have heard something though that seems less likely. Some higher ups would definitely know but they would be missed… but perhaps one of them is lonely and may want to impress someone…” He trailed off and looked through some of the papers that were scattered on the makeshift table, finding a single sheet and looking it over then smiling, he remembered correctly. “I volunteer as tribute.” he added with a charming smile. One of the managers there was a woman, he had seen her during his initial information gathering phase and would not mind getting to know her more intimately he was daydreaming a little and cleared his throat. “Afterall, it is the most dangerous part and I am most familiar with the details so it makes perfect sense that it should be me. So er yes… other leads, other leads. Maybe if we can find out what carriage company will be transporting it we can plan a better ambush…. I have some ideas and chokepoints I assume they will probably be going through.” He will indicate these areas on the city map that he has. “But knowing for sure would help out a lot. We still have a couple of days before it leaves and then the time it actually takes probably a few more. So, what do you say we all chase down some more information and meet back here mid day every day?” Myth finished looking between the two that he had managed to call to his aid, raising his shoulders in a questioning fashion for a response.

Though his eyes moved between the two they lingered on poison more, after all she was much more appealing to look at and he noticed a slight change in her before introducing herself from her initial playfulness, despite this he had a feeling they would get along wonderfully. And looked forward to working with her. The other however… Myth had his doubts about the man, though that was probably part of his talent, he was unassuming.


[redrout]

Joseph leaned forward a little, looking back at the girl. She wanted his name, which was certainly polite, but the nature of their business merited more discretion than cordiality. He smirked, pulling the pipe from his mouth.

"And I don't think I'll be giving one. You all know how it is," the assassin began wearily reciting, "one of us gets captured, tortured, starts to give up information, and all of a sudden I'm out of my day job and on the run, just because somebody's lips wagged a little too much. But, you've gotta call me something, haven't you? We'll go with 'Todd'. Yeah, Todd's a good name."

He continued, wiping his face with a rag to show a few freckles amidst otherwise clear skin. He stood, a few inches under six feet, and removed the gloves and jacket, exposing clean clothes underneath, along with a small bandoleer where his daggers hung.

"Though, it seems to me that pain is a better motivator than pleasure, no offense meant to your charms," Joseph said, bowing slightly to the girl, then turning back to Myth.

[Poison]

((My PC is on the fritz (again) so I've done this in a hurry from my hubby's laptop. I will go through and edit later for spelling/grammer. But no actions will be different, so go ahead and post. I'll be back on Sat the 20th, not sure when my PC will be up, but I will use my hubs laptop in the meantime)

Poison shrugged. Todd was certainly not his true name, but she didn't need that information. Besides, here in Radasanth she hd the connections to find it if she really wanted it. More pressing was getting all the information for the heist. she already had an idea about where to start.

"Midday will not work for me. I can only travel at night. I will return shortly after nightfall. Good night, gentlemen."

She raised her hood over her head once more and quickly made her back up the stairs and through the shop. She took a deep breath of the cool air as she stepped out into the night. The first order of business would be, of course, to locate her former comrades in theft. Particularly the woman who had been a chief informant. If Soladad was still as good as she was when Poison last saw her, she would be invaluable to the job at hand. The trick was to find her. The information broker had a habit of moving frequently and only one person ever knew where or when she'd moved. That man was a potter by the name of Tyrone.

Eager to get started, the vampiress made her way to Tyrone's little shop with its upstairs apartment. While Soladad moved every few months or so, Tyrone's potter shop had been on the same quiet street for many years. She smiled softly to herself as she opened the door, setting the little bell above it chiming.

A familiar voice called out from the back, "Sorry, I'm closed for the evening. Come back tomorrow!"

"what about for old friends?"

At the sound of her voice, Tyrone hurried out to the front of his shop. He had aged more than Poison had expected he would. His hair, once grey only at the temples, was now white as fresh fallen snow and receding at his brow. Other than his hair though, he looked much younger than 60-odd years.

"Ani?" he said in disbelief. Her former nickname escaped his lips before he remembered that she'd abandoned it. "Sorry, Poison. It's been a long time, my dear. What brings you to this old man's shop?"

She smiled warmly, "It's fine, Ty. I need to speak to Soladad. I've got a job and she usually has the kind of information I need."

"I see. Well, come on to the back so we can talk more privately."

He turned and led the way to the back of the shop. Poison followed, hoping that things had not changed from the last time she'd been in Radasanth.