OOC: This is a fantasy rp open to one other female. The tone is one of a good girl learning to like being bad.
Garret smiled to himself as he inspected the silver vase. This would fetch a nice price. He slipped it into his haversack and proceded to the next room in the mansion. He'd been at this for about a year now. The city of White Coast was full of rubes. It's size meant that thieves could operate at large without their crimes ever being connected, and the wealth meant there was never a shortage of targets. This one in particular happened to be the home of a successful linen merchant.
Garret was no ordinary thief though. At least, he didn't consider himself one. He was dashing half-elf, almost too good-looking for masculinity with long platinum blonde hair and violet eyes. He could move as silent as a cat, pick pockets as if by magic, fight like a demon, and could charm a snake by smiling at it. He considered himself a gentleman rogue, the world's most refined ne'er-do-well. And he wasn't too far off, at least in this land.
He decided to just bide his time. The only people in the house were the aging merchant and his daughter, both of whom were fast asleep. The merchant was a crotchety old coot, but his daughter was a lovely young lady whom he had sometimes seen in town before, usually with a batch of suitors in tow. Now that she was at the age where she was expected to marry, men were falling over themselves for a chance to make good with her and her father. Naturally, Garret laughed to himself at their inept displays.
Now, Garret was usually professional about his work. But this time around, his arrogance proved to be his mistake. His sensitive ears picked up the sound of footsteps, but in his little inner self-appreciation he failed to notice them moving right toward him.
Garret smiled to himself as he inspected the silver vase. This would fetch a nice price. He slipped it into his haversack and proceded to the next room in the mansion. He'd been at this for about a year now. The city of White Coast was full of rubes. It's size meant that thieves could operate at large without their crimes ever being connected, and the wealth meant there was never a shortage of targets. This one in particular happened to be the home of a successful linen merchant.
Garret was no ordinary thief though. At least, he didn't consider himself one. He was dashing half-elf, almost too good-looking for masculinity with long platinum blonde hair and violet eyes. He could move as silent as a cat, pick pockets as if by magic, fight like a demon, and could charm a snake by smiling at it. He considered himself a gentleman rogue, the world's most refined ne'er-do-well. And he wasn't too far off, at least in this land.
He decided to just bide his time. The only people in the house were the aging merchant and his daughter, both of whom were fast asleep. The merchant was a crotchety old coot, but his daughter was a lovely young lady whom he had sometimes seen in town before, usually with a batch of suitors in tow. Now that she was at the age where she was expected to marry, men were falling over themselves for a chance to make good with her and her father. Naturally, Garret laughed to himself at their inept displays.
Now, Garret was usually professional about his work. But this time around, his arrogance proved to be his mistake. His sensitive ears picked up the sound of footsteps, but in his little inner self-appreciation he failed to notice them moving right toward him.
