Horses, Shinies, and Silly Things

[Jake Narmolanya]

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 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, youthful 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 himself 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 work…

[FennWenn]

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 without questions being asked than here. 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 trusty new bag, he could afford to hoard much more stuff than he could before.

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

Shrugging, the small puck pocketed his meager offerings and continued down the street 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, causing his ears to flick quickly in her direction. He glanced back 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's eyes narrowed sternly at her as he crossed his arms together. They had only been walking ten minutes! She could haul his ass around across continents for hours on end without complaint, but she couldn't be bothered to go three streets into Radasanth without a nap?

Ahh, yes. There were always some drawbacks 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 was not nap time!

His wolf merely cracked open a blood red eye, her iris reflecting his annoyance and her amusement.

Finally, the boy gave up. Fine. Have she could have her nap. Maybe he would get some sleep too! He blew a raspberry and dropped to the ground next to her. "Let me know when you done being lazy and dumb," he said in his hand-gestures, to no-one in particular.

Sitting in place was a very good way to make Fenn bored. To make him think, rather than do. 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 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! A grin lit up Fenn's face. Seeing as thievery was his specialty, he 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.

[Jake Narmolanya]

“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 as he led the horses back toward Fenn and Daugi at the front of the barn, “open the door!”

[FennWenn]

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 silently stern pat on the head, nudging her nose down toward the ground. "Sit."

She snuffled the air excitedly but did as he bid 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 not-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.

[Jake Narmolanya]

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.”

[FennWenn]

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 a ponderous horse-mean 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 deer's 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 accidentally 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? They made good hammocks if you could find a nice forked branch.

Hrmm. He glanced back over at his fellow thief again, mentally measuring up Jake as the young man finished putting the tent into place. Actually, maybe humans — elves? — were just too big to fit in trees. 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 dust mushroomed into his face. He glanced up at the star-studded sky as he wiped off the smattering of dirt. 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.

[Jake Narmolanya]

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 a 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.

[FennWenn]

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, he imagined that it 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 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 an Ice Wyrm. 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!

[Jake Narmolanya]

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.

[FennWenn]

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 bobby pins pulled out from the fluffy whisps of his hair, the locks fell to the excitable thief's practiced hands.

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, one had a reddish tinge to the gold-white, one was just a creamy-ish white, 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 four yearlings perked up and peered at the stranger in their midst. There were supposed to be eleven of these, right? Maybe the mean merchant had sold some off already. Maybe they were elsewhere. Oh well — so long as Jake was able to get one, he guessed it'd be fine. 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? Make those click-y noises with his mouth? Before he could come to a satisfactory conclusion, the boy was knocked flat on his rump as the yearlings made a wild bid for freedom and galloped out of their stall. Whump! went the door as it smacked him upside the chin, knocking him off his feet.

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?

Fenn rubbed the bruise forming on his chin. His 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!

[Jake Narmolanya]

"Alright, you've convinced me," the merchant said, and Jake let the stones fall with a clatter. The fat man scratched his belly through his nightshirt and nodded inward. "Come on inside, I'll look at my calendar and see which social events might call for an entertainer."

"Err," Jake said, "wait, there's more!" He reached into his pocket, finding nothing there but some sand leftover from a recent trip to the beach. "Witness the wonder of the Green Gallantro!" He cried, and threw the sand in the merchant's eyes.

"What the fuck!" The fat man spluttered, staggering out of his house to brush his face off in the garden. "Seriously, kid. When I clear my eyes there had better be a Kebiran elephant or something standing before me. This had better be one hell of a magic... trick." He said as he cleared his vision and found Jake menacing him with a dagger. "What the fuck?" He repeated, voice wavering as the youth grabbed a handful of his collar.

"Stay calm and this'll remain on the outside of your skin," Jake growled, laying the iron blade alongside the man's throat.

"What do you want?" The man gulped nervously, his throat bobbing. "I don't have anything for you to take! Well, okay I suppose I am fairly wealthy. Take whatever you want! Just don't hurt me. There's no one else here, I promise."

"I don't need to take anything," Jake said. "I'm just here to keep an eye on you. I've already got a crack team of specialized thieves combing through your home to find your valuables." The merchant's eyes bulged. "That's right," Jake said, stalling for time. "A crack team of specialists."

[FennWenn]

Slipping his bobby pins back behind his ear, a miniature crack-specialist of thievery slipped in through a newly-unlocked door and into a servant’s hallway.

Fenn was practically vibrating with glee as he skittered through the passageway and out the first door he came across — one whose lock was deftly overcome. One who lead into a rather extravagant foyer. The boy’s jaw dropped just slightly as his toes touched a fleecy rug. High-quality stuff! There was a lot of purple here. A lot. Chair seats, tasseled tapestries, drapes… it made Fenn snort a little. From all that he had stolen and re-sold in the past, it didn’t escape him that purple was one of the more expensive colors to produce dye for. It seemed like the head of this household was rather invested in his self-image as one with wealth. This room was probably the maximum level of fanciness that one would reasonably have without feeling pushed to hire guards.

Which was lucky, because this sneaky fae was not equipped to fight guards. No blood for him; only that sweet, sweet gold.

There was no hesitation on the little puck’s part in getting to work right away. With all the grace of a mantis’ strike, Fenn grabbed several slightly-dusty vases and decorative statuettes off of the fireplace’s mantle and stuffed them into his bag. Yoink! There went a few lacy dollies. Oh look — an open box of cigars! No-one would miss that. Or at least, perhaps they wouldn’t, among the vast amount of things that were about to go missing along with it. Those too merged with the hoard hiding in the boy’s satchel. Just as he had moved on to a couch (hey, those side-pillows were silky-tempting) there was a gasp from behind him.

Fenn jolted and glanced over his shoulder.

Standing in the doorway of the servant’s passage was a dark-haired woman dressed in a maid’s outfit. A very stiff, formal maid’s outfit. Catlike ears flicked back from the top of her skull, and a sleek tail lashed from a slit in her long skirt. Probably, she was half-Akishimian. Between her white-knuckled hands she clutched a feather duster.

Her eyes glanced in disbelief between the dirty little imp with his dirty hands full of stolen pillow, and the bits of straw and frost on the floor, tracked in from his entrance. Split panic took hold of the boy. His ears curled back. Shhhhhhhiiiiiit. It wasn’t often that he was caught so brazenly in the process of taking everything not nailed down; especially not in the confined space of a house.

Something whispered inside of him. Something instinctual and furtive.

Snow circled swirling into existence. Fenn’s mind darted for an image comforting to him, but significantly more frightful to the average mortal. The terrifying, one-eyed visage of a black direwolf coalesced around him, slavering at the jaws. As he instinctively bared his teeth, so too did the illusion. The maid’s eyes rolled up into her head. With a scream, a whimper, and a sudden palor, she fainted dead away, hitting the polished wood with a muted thud. Hopefully, that wasn’t heard outside!

Then again, that shriek was probably a bigger concern.

Fenn’s glamour tore apart in a whistle of frostdust as he scampered over to the fallen maid. Thankfully, she was still breathing — he could help but check, because he didn’t really like thinking too hard about non-mean-merchant collateral damage, and not knowing if he’d accidentally startled someone to death would be on his mind forever if he didn’t. Attached to the beltloop of her skirt was a ring of keys. Nifty! Wrapping his hand in his cloak so as to not singe himself on the iron, they were swiftly unhitched from their place and taken for Fenn’s own. He already had the picklocking skills he needed to get into any door in this house, but then, he figured it was his place to stir chaos where he could. After all, wasn’t this merchant guy a Rather Bad Man?

Let the looting commence!

[Jake Narmolanya]

"That sounded like Kayoko!" The Rather Bad Man exclaimed when they heard the scream. His ruddy pallor had fallen to a ghastly shade of white. "What kind of specialists did you bring? What will they do to her? What will you do to me? Please just take whatever you want and leave us be."

Jake frowned. "How many servants are in there?" He demanded, twisting the merchant's collar. "I could have sworn I overheard that all of your servants would be out today."

"Just her!" The balding man exclaimed."Normally they all have Sundays off, but Kayoko had been home sick recently and she wanted to catch up on her chores."

Jake's frown deepened, like a rut being re-dragged by a wagon wheel. He was not worried about Kayoko. He was worried about Fenn. The little fae was not exactly combative. What if the maid swatted him like a pesky moth?

"You let your servants have Sundays off and you give them sick days?" Jake said, eyebrows raised. Such benefits were unheard of in most Coronian households. "Hang on... you don't really seem like an asshole at all." He said in confusion. "I mean, you were even going to hire me. Right up until I threw sand in your face..." The thief tilted his head in consideration and then sheathed his dagger. "Sorry about that. I wouldn't have cut you." He gave the merchant a little shove in releasing his nightshirt. "Go back inside." He said with a nod. He shed his cape but left the mask on.

The man glanced nervously at the dagger on the brigand's belt, but nodded and retreated into the mudroom, holding the door for Jake. For a mudroom, the place was awful fancy. Four unique crystal lanterns sat in wall sconces either side of each door. Tiles that looked like marble covered the floor and the lower half of the walls, making them easy to wash or scrape down. An ornate Akashiman multi-tiered boot tray stood in the corner opposite the door to the main house. It was smoothly sanded and painted purple, and filled with mostly clean shoes of all different origins. Jake had done a fair bit of traveling, and he recognized Aleraran fashions and even some Raiaeran and Fallieni sandals.

To bad none of these are my size, he thought, glancing down at his dusty old boots.

"What are you going to do?" The merchant asked again as he approached the inner threshold.

"I'm going to find some rope or something to tie you up, and then get my part-my team the hell out of here." Jake said. He was still looking over his shoulder at the fancy shoe rack.

The merchant picked up one of the crystal lanterns - the one shaped like a rearing lion - and swung it at Jake's head. The youth cried out in alarm and threw up his hands, barely deflecting the heavy blow. The lantern glanced off his arms and fell to the ground. Jake overbalanced and staggered into the boot tray, which collapsed beneath his weight with a splintering of fragile timbers. The merchant seized another lantern - this one shaped like a dire wolf - and wound up to heave it at the fallen half elf.

Jake waved his hands in desperation, and a portal opened up beneath the fat man, who fell through it with a cry of shock. The portal schiiipped shut in time for the dire wolf lantern to clatter safely to the floor.

Fenn would probably like that, Jake thought as he climbed to his feet. He picked up the statuesque lantern and tucked it beneath his arm. The portal had deposited the merchant safely on a stretch of Scaran beach about five miles from anywhere. Jake would be sure to go back and get the merchant before they left. If he remembered. The man seemed resourceful enough to get himself home, if it came to that.

Jake opened the door and ducked into the main house, searching the lavish premises for any sign of the maid and his small friend.

[FennWenn]

One by one, a cabinet’s worth of shiny, shiny porcelain dishes — smooth to the touch and edged with gold leaf — disappeared into an endlessly greedy bag. The door was left ajar as a pint-sided pocketpicker glanced around the grand room he was in. Nodding back at his work, Fenn began his way back, scampering over white tiles and ducking under polished preparation tables, toward the kitchen’s door.

This room was likely picked clean enough for him to want to move on from it. Probably. Kitchens were always Fenn’s favorite room to raid in any given house. There was quite a great carnage behind and before the little puck; an icebox left ajar open (who needed that when they had snowy magics?), a platter of warming brownies mysteriously vanished from its spot on the counter (delicious!), a spatter of egg on the wall (his bad), empty jars dripping and rolling about (one smashed, whoops) frost and flour tracked over the nice clean countertops (and floors)... Yes, Fenn decided as he licked a delicious smear of honey and brownie crumbs from the corner of his mouth, he had done good work and now the rest of the decorated house beckoned him. But, the fae thought as he glanced up, had he done enough work? What if something had been forgotten? What if he had missed a tin of cookies somewhere?

Such as, that glittery box all the way on the tippy-tip top of that cabinet over there.

Hesitantly, the fae considered the shiny snippet of temptation. There were other rooms to move onto in the house, but… Nono, he decided as he slid back into the room; he was being extra-careful to be thorough with this bout of stealing! It wouldn’t do to miss such a thing.

As easily as a squirrel scales a tree, Fenn hoisted himself onto the dark marble counter (not for the first time today) and reached up to grab a cabinet’s handle — but not to open it. With an air of smugness, the boy jumped and grabbed for the top of the counter. His hand met with the dusty top. Triumphantly, he pulled himself up. There, he hung with his feet dangling in the air, by the meager strength of his crossed arms alone.

Crash whunk THUMP-

Fenn’s gaze jolted up from shiny tin right in front of his nose, hearing a hearty scuffle echo through the tall corridors. His thoughts jerked back to the fainted lady — had she gotten up, or had something happened to her? Oh no. He hoped she was okay. They weren’t here to murder anyone or anything… wait. What if that was the mean merchant? Had Jake lost his attention? What if a fight had broken out? What if-

In his moment of fluttery distraction and rambled thinking, Fenn reached for the cookie tin with two hands, forgetting that one needed both arms to hold themselves up in such a precarious position on to the top of a cabinet.

WHUMP!

It was then that he discovered the tin was not full of cookies.

[Jake Narmolanya]

Jake had barely taken three steps when he heard the unmistakable sound of a fallen Fenn striking cold kitchen floor. The half elf wheeled around and raced down the hall in the direction of the whump, noticing an array of empty shelves along the way. It seemed the fae had done some good work on his way to whatever trouble he'd encountered. Jake subconsciously eased his iron dagger in its sheath. What if the merchant had lied about his staff? What if he'd missed something in scouting the place? If he'd placed Fenn in danger, he wasn't sure how he'd forgive himself.

"Kaaah-chhooo!"

A distinctly fae-like sneeze echoed around the room of shiny surfaces as Jake entered. He found Fenn laying in a haphazard pile, an open tin having spilled snuff powder all over his face. The little fellow scratched at his scalp and gave another mighty sneeze, looking sheepishly up at the half-elf.

"Fenn, you don't want that stuff! It'll rot your nose off. At least, that's what the old men always shouted when I tried to steal it as a youngster..."

"Hello?" Came a deep, unfamiliar voice form outside. It penetrated the thin glass of the kitchen window. "Merchant Smellson? It's Ivan, the deputy sheriff you're always mistaking for Melvin, the other deputy sheriff. I heard some strange noises. Everything alright in there?"

Four green eyes intersected in a sudden panic.

"Quick!" Jake hissed. "Where are the horses?" Fenn pointed frantically towards the building's rear. "Right, hurry, hurry!" Jake said, and Fenn hurry hurried. The thieving pair stole out the back door and into the stables, where the smell of hay and the sight of zero yearlings greeted them.

"Fennnn, what happened?" Jake groaned, but the open gates left that all too evident. They didn't have time to go chasing yearlings all over the countryside. They had a deputy sheriff to escape from! Jake drew deeply on the Eternal Tap and created a shimmering portal out of thin air next to them. "After you, buddy!" He said, and Fenn hopped on through as quick as a hare.

Jake paused a moment, and then, almost as an afterthought, created a second portal and peered through it.

"You haven't gotten far," he said.

He was looking at a length of open beach, and a fat merchant sitting dejectedly in the sand in his nightshirt.

"Come one, then." Jake told him. "I'm getting tired holding this thing open!" He let the merchant back into his house, and then darted through the first portal after Fenn and allowed both holes in space to snap shut.

The fae's luminous green eyes stared, and he pointed wordlessly. Jake looked down, having forgotten what he was carrying under his arm.

"Oh, right!" He said, holding up the sparkly crystal dire wolf lantern. "I grabbed this for you, buddy." Fenn performed a small but elaborate dance and accepted the gift, squirreling it away inside his satchel-of-many-things.

"Well," Jake said, "I don't think that could have gone much better."

[FennWenn]

Vwoosh! Through the portals they went!

Daugi perked up as the two alighted on the soft grass, tongue lolling out of her mouth. Her teeth were tinged pink and her muzzle matted dark from her hunting in their absence. Fenn wrinkled his nose and gave her a pat back as she nuzzled him. Dumb mut; he’d have to give her a good brushing soon! Now that they were at their camping ground — out of the reaches of the law they had very certainly broken many times today — they could take a moment to breathe. Jake flopped over by the remnants of last night’s campfire while the fae gladly let his direwolf smother him in affection.

After a moment, Fenn wiped the monster slobber off his face and glanced back over his shoulder. The half-elf’s attention was captured with a wave of the boy’s hand. ”Horse?” he mouthed hesitantly over at Jake. He felt pretty bad about screwing up their chances of snagging a yearling.

“It’s alright.” Jake sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “At least we didn’t get caught by the deputy. That would’ve spelled trouble for us.”

Fenn frowned, and followed the motion with a shrug. Carefully, he stuck his hand into his satchel, dug around shoulder-deep, and pulled out a dish. Then another. Then another. Daugi watched the process in quiet fascination. Soon, there was a full set lying on the dirt; a full set of immaculate porcelain, gilded with gold. The little puck lifted his eyebrows and pointed between Jake and the shiny stuff. Then with both hands, he smugly mimicked holding a horse's reins; “Horse,” he mouthed again. Jake should get all those dishes to sell for coin buy a new friend with, to save him some later trouble trying to scrounge up money or steal a new one himself. It only seemed fair in turn, after all. The half-elf had given him that cool lantern.

[Jake Narmolanya]

"And now!" The auctioneer called, his strident voice ringing across the front yard of Vard Smellson's manor. "We shall auction off the first of a half dozen Fallieni yearlings! The finest horseflesh in the known world, at the perfect age to begin training beneath new masters. Shall we start the bidding at six hundred gold pieces?"

Jake and Fenn sat in the back row of folding chairs, sharing a sideways glance. The little fae nodded, and Jake lifted the numbered sign he was holding.

"Six hundred!" The auctioneer called. "To the young gentleman in the back. Do I hear six ten?"

The plates they'd pawned in the bazaar had brought in a little over eight hundred gold pieces, so Jake felt pretty confident and kept bidding. The early rush of potential buyers slowed as most of them decided to save their gold for later, potentially cheaper yearlings. But Jake was determined. He'd gotten a good luck at the lineup of horseflesh, and the first one to the block was the best by a long shot. It had good long, strong shanks and a graceful arch to its back and neck that would lead into fine lines as it grew. And it was a dappled gelding, just like his previous steed Gunner.

"Sold, for seven hundred and thirty gold pieces!" The auctioneer called at last. With a triumphant grin Jake sauntered down the aisle between the banks of chairs to pay and claim the yearling's bridle. As he turned to lead the horse away Fenn scampered to his side, and the two strolled off into the sunset.

Or rather, they started to.

"Hey!" Cried a catgirl sitting in the front row of the auction crowd. "That's the little kid who knocked me out and stole all our shinies!"

"And hey!" Called Vard Smellson himself, clambering to his feet. "You're the guy in the mask who menaced me with a knife!"

"What?" Jake demanded incredulously. "That couldn't have been me, that was the Great Green Gallantro!"

"Hmm..." Smellson replied. "You make a solid argument. That guy could juggle. But wait, how did you know his name? Deputy, seize them!"

"Time to go buddy!" Jake exclaimed. He grabbed the dappled yearling's bridle with one hand and Fenn's sleeve with the other, and then rushed through a hole that appeared in mid-air, whooshing the travelers off to their next great adventure.

[Philomel]

Horses, Shinies and Silly Things (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?279-Horses-Shinies-and-Silly-Things).
Basic Judgment

Rewards:

Jake Narmolanya (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?43-Jake-Narmolanya) receives:
1340 EXP
120 Gold

FennWenn (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?28-FennWenn) receives:
1180 EXP
105 Gold

"It is not needful for our dreams to be very grand nor very big. It is only needful for our dreams to be very shiny."

C. JoyBell C.

[Philomel]

Rewards added.

Jake receives a yearling.