A Rogue's Journal
My life as a Pickpocket.
Suddenly the shadows begin to move and shift as you do. You glance around nervously. Certain that you saw a figure in the mist. You feel something brush against your back. You spin around quickly only to discover darkness. The sudden chill in the air makes you gasp. You search. You see the darkness shift. Faint footsteps surround you. Or was it only your imagination. The candle flickers as a silent breeze creeps through the room. Warmth touches the back of your neck. You spin. A shadow slides into dimness. Soft whispers drift about the room.
Who are you? You ask. A darkened figure appears in the candlelight and places a scroll on the table. Fingers gently slide across the back of your neck. You turn. Nothing. You turn back around quickly to catch a glimpse of a figure slip through the door and into the night. You reach down and pick up the scroll and unroll it. And read the words, The keeper of Secrets.
Shortly after my Lord and Lady left for the Isle I was a bit low when it came to silver. So I ventured off to the busy center of the landing and mixed in with the crowd and watched for a mark I thought would be carrying a bundle of silver. So I sat and observed the crowd for a period of time. Shortly a well, dressed gentleman stumbled into the square, humming a tune and drinking from a flask, obviously drunk. So I figured he would make and easy enough mark. So I following him around the square trying to get close enough, so I could reach into his coin pouch. He staggered a bit, so I positioned myself and bumped into the drunken man while reaching into his pockets and pulling out several silver coins.
He grumbled and slurred, "Excuse me son, I had a wee bit too much to drink."
I smiled and offered to help him to the bench. He spoke slowly, "That'd be very kind of thee, lad." I helped the older gentleman to the bench and slipped my hand into his pouch and pulled out a nice sparkling gem, then tucking the gem into my shirt. He swayed a bit and fell over onto the bench. I moved quickly out of the square to count my silver and to find a gem dealer to appraise my newly acquired gem. I ducked into the local stables and started to count my silver, when suddenly I saw a glint of steel out of the corner of my eye, followed by a hard object crashing into the side of my head. My vision grew hazy and then blurred into darkness.
When I came to I was lying on my back staring up at dusty, rustic looking ceiling. I rubbed my aching temple and pulled myself to my knees. When my vision cleared, I realized I was not alone. A dozen individuals sat in chairs, riffling through chests, trunks, and coin purses. Sitting at a corner table of this what appeared to be an old warehouse was the drunken gentleman I had stolen from earlier. He smiled softly at me, and said, "Come sit with me son." I stood up and walked over to the table and sat in a wooden chair across from the man. Everyone else continued sorting through the containers and never even glanced my way. The man across the table leaned back his chair and asked, "So son, what is thy name?"
I cleared my throat and replied nervously, "Armic Greylant".
The man reached down beside his chair and picked up a bottle of whisky and two glasses. Well lad", he said, with a crooked grin, I am Mustelo and these fine lads and ladies are my associates so to speak.
Chuckling echoed throughout the room. Mustelo then poured us both a drink.
Mustelo grinned coldly and said, "Son, you impressed me in the square today. You did everything like a trained thief, except you didnt choose your mark wisely." Mustelo leaned forward, "There are rogues all about and you'll need to learn to spot these thieves. Remember deception is the key to our survival.
Mustelo shifted in his chair and grinned, "Obviously you were shown the streets at some point, but if youd like to learn more about our fine art, we happen to have a vacancy within our so-called society."
And this is when my life of crime took off, per se.