[Open] Say Hi To Haelan

[bad_thief]

WHO: Haelan and YOU!
WHAT: Haelan getting into trouble in Kirkwall- come and say "hello!" Or "Hey you stop thief!" as you perfer.
WHEN: Up to the end of this month
WHERE: Kirkwall! Specifically The Gallows, The Hanged Man and Lowtown in general
NOTES: Come and meet Haelan! Please let me know if you want a specific starter for your character

The Gallows

This is technically only his second-week doing dirty work for the Inquisition. He's not had to do anything very dirty yet, apart from help clear out some old dusty storerooms, but from what he's heard they do far worse than that on a regular basis.

Luckily right no one has given him anything worse to do. Yet. Today, they've actually given him breakfast, which is a surprise, and although he's not sure what to do with the bowl and the spoon, he might just... keep them. No one told him specifically to bring them back, so they must belong to him now. That makes sense. So he wipes up the last dregs of soup with a bit of bread, shoves that in his mouth and shoves the bowl in his bag and the spoon in his pocket, as quick as he can so no one sees.

And then he has to go and be helpful. There's always work to be done, or so it seems, and anyone standing around idle for too long will get roped into doing something. Doing something is alright, but he'd much rather explore a little more. The Gallows overshadowed Kirkwall for so long, and it was the one place he'd never really explored much of. Now, under the guise of working, he can poke around where-ever he wants. If someone questions him, he can just say he was looking for something to do, or for someone. It's almost foolproof.

The corridors are big and wide and there's boxes and barrels piled against the walls. Doors led off on both sides and he's not entirely sure where to, but he's going to try one. There might be something interesting inside. Or at least, something worth borrowing.

Kirkwall's Lowtown

He likes Market Day. Market Day means crowds and crowds mean easy targets. Lowtown's purses are normally lighter than those of Hightown's residents, but there are more of them. And there tend to be less Guards- after all, who wants to Guard poor people? Anyway- there are a few rich merchants struggling up towards Hightown, servants and slaves burdened with goods, their overseers not paying enough attention. If he's lucky, he might bag a few extra pennies.

The trouble is, he's a known figure. As soon as one of the regular stall-holders spots him, they'll let out the alarm. It becomes a bit like a game then- stay away from the stalls, or hidden in the crowd, and swipe what you can. Slice the bottom of a coin-purse here, dip your hand in that basket there.

Of course, you don't expect for someone to grab you by the scruff of your neck, dragging you backwards. At least, not without some sort of shout. The sudden movement is soundless, apart from Haelan's undignified squeak.

Who would pounce on him without calling out thief? Slavers? Must be slavers!

"Get off me!"

The Hanged Man

"And then- and then I had to fight him off!" Haelan says, slurring just a little. "He'd got me into an alley and there were six of them! Ten! Ten Tevinter slavers! You could, you could tell, you know, because they were all Blood Mages- worse than normal mages, all covered in gore! And gold!"

Haelan shudders, reaching for his tankard and taking another swallow. This is the third he's had, and he should know better. But this is what happens, every time he gets a decent haul, instead of finding some safe place to hide his coins, he spends them on beer and little cakes and on stupid little trinkets. Every. Single. Time.

"But I got away, I had to fight them all off, all these mages and they were good mages too! One of them almost got me but I dodged and ran and climbed up onto a roof and they couldn't follow me, because... because they were weighed down by all the gold they were carrying! But I ran and I ran and got away."

He grins, brightly, at the other people at the bar. Anyone sober probably had the good sense not to listen, and frankly, anyone drunk had probably heard better tales told in the Hanged Man.

Comments

Lowtown

[iceblade]

Or maybe it's just a large, tattooed 'barbarian' woman instead, her eyes narrowed as she looms over the thief. There's a large, two-handed sword seemingly made of pure ice strapped to her back and while she hasn't reached for it, her muscled body indicates she can heft and swing it with absolutely no trouble. Her accent is think, akin enough to Starkhaven's for those not from the Frostbacks.

"Then give it back. You've no right to what you took, lad."

[bad_thief]

Haelan struggles, but it's no good. Besides, that sword is almost as big as he is, and he's not keen to anger the woman who looks like she has no trouble wielding it. And cutting off his hands, feet, ears and any other bits she feels like.

"I... er..." He begins, holding his hands up in a sort of shrug. Obviously, they're empty. There's enough little folds and pockets for him to stuff a few coins in his tattered clothing, and any money he's pinched gets squirrelled away as soon as it's in his hands. That way he's far more likely to keep said coins.

"Forgive me, Messere. Just trying to feed all my little brothers and sisters, left as starving orphans, all of us, with no-one to look after us in all the world." He tries, with a practised, mournful voice that plainly indicates he's said the same sort of thing before. Mostly to people who have caught him thieving. "Please Messere, I'll give you back your coin, but I don't know how little Reabeka is going to make it through the night..."

[iceblade]

Haelan's practiced response earns him a deeply unimpressed look from the woman, who doesn't move to let him up yet. She narrows her eyes, having been here just long enough to see some of those tactics already, used by others. "Don't insult me. I may be new, but I'm not stupid. You've the coin elsewhere on you, and your sob story is shite. Now how about you cut the crap and own up to it, hm?"

[bad_thief]

Okay okay so maybe that wasn't the most believable story he could have told, but it was worth a shot, and he shrugs.

"Welcome to the city, serah. We don't have bears, but we have lots of sticky fingers."

Why she thinks she's going to get her money back, he doesn't know. As soon as she lets go, he's going to run. And she's going to have to let go if she wants to search him properly, or wants him to hand over the coin.

Besides, it's his now. She was stupid enough to have a coin purse a thief could dip into.

[iceblade]

She scowls, though it's more for effect than anything else. He may be a thief, but he's also a tiny, scrawny kid (to her) and she doesn't want to hurt him that badly. That doesn't mean she isn't willing to scare him a little, though.

"If that's the way of it, I'll call for the guard. Keep your sticky fingers, for all the good it'll do you." She's not going to give him much time to stop her on that; that voice and distinct accent of hers tend to carry, and visually, she stands out enough as it is. Finding her -and him, unless he squirms away- won't be an issue.

[bad_thief]

Haelan might not be good at much, but he is good at looking pathetic (hey! it's only okay when he says it) and making himself look small. It's a useful, when you're not the best pickpocket Kirkwall has ever seen.

He winces when she suggests she'll call over the guard, and he gestures for her to stop being so damn loud. "Andraste's Knickers, you want me to get my hands cut off?" He asks, and then slowly, carefully, dips his hand into a recess in the folds of his rather dirty clothes. And brings out some coins. Maybe the ones he took from her, maybe not. He doesn't remember how much he collected from her, he was just collecting.

"There, happy?"

[iceblade]

Skadi snatches the coins, feeling that their weight seems about apt then eases off. She regards him warily, ready to move if he's foolhardy enough to try and steal from her again. "Aye, that'll do. Get gone, before I change my mind, lad."

And she'll be keeping a careful eye on his retreat.

[bad_thief]

As soon as she releases him, he's running. Away, it doesn't matter where to. The point is that woman is terrifying, he's sure he gave her more coin than he should have, but when someone has a big-ass magical sword, you don't shortchange them.

As soon as he thinks he's out of her sight, he ducks into a narrow dark alley- more of a gap between buildings than an alley, and tries to catch his breath.

"Crazy foreigners."