Post by Centik on Apr 19, 2015 7:03:47 GMT -7
"It is said that the scoundrel is a living shadow that travels through the night, capriciously fading in and out of darkness to burgle anything and everything not nailed down. Uncatchable by the guards and undetectable by his victims, the fox prowls through homes as a haunting phantom would a crypt."
Sitting at the far end of the Golden Plow, Beval leans back in his chair, patiently awaiting a client's payment. Sitting to the right of Beval, Lyson taps his fingers impatiently.
"He's late."
"He'll be here." Beval remarks nonchalantly, cleaning dirt from beneath his nails with a dagger.
"This has happened before..." Lyson retorts, recalling a previous client who's blood was irritatingly difficult to clean off of his knuckles.
"If we beat every man who dragged his feet to pay us, there'd be nobody TO pay us. I'm not one to give a damn for patience or any virtues, for that matter, but we need this- ah, here he is!" Beval leans back a bit further in the chair and puts his feet on the table. "It's been too long, friend! How fared you since our last farewell?!" Beval exclaims, expecting the nobleman to play along with the charade as to not arouse suspicion. Lyson, eyeing the man over, crosses his arms, fingering his cane leaning on his left thigh.
"O..oh, yes. Uhm.. hello friend. Erm.. I have the gold I owe you! -" Beval sits up, grabs the man's collar and pulls him down to eye level, which, for a halfling, is quite low.
"Do you want every guardsman in the southern district to hear about our business?!" He spits in a hushed whisper, holding the man's face near his. "Steal a married woman's undergarments?!" Beval sits back, regaining some composure. Lyson, sword half-drawn from his cane, relaxes aswell, sitting back in his chair.
"Nevertheless." He holds his hand out for the coin purse. The man begrudgingly hands over the promised coin and turns toward the door. "Oh, and don't be late next time." Beval remarks as he rifles through the coin purse.
"Well, you see... I needed to check in on the newest shipments of wine in tow-"
"Dead men don't drink wine. Be. On. Time." Beval ends, enunciating each word and waves the man away.
Skilled Work (Thief)
10 base + 10(Sleight of Hand) = 10g
Sitting at the far end of the Golden Plow, Beval leans back in his chair, patiently awaiting a client's payment. Sitting to the right of Beval, Lyson taps his fingers impatiently.
"He's late."
"He'll be here." Beval remarks nonchalantly, cleaning dirt from beneath his nails with a dagger.
"This has happened before..." Lyson retorts, recalling a previous client who's blood was irritatingly difficult to clean off of his knuckles.
"If we beat every man who dragged his feet to pay us, there'd be nobody TO pay us. I'm not one to give a damn for patience or any virtues, for that matter, but we need this- ah, here he is!" Beval leans back a bit further in the chair and puts his feet on the table. "It's been too long, friend! How fared you since our last farewell?!" Beval exclaims, expecting the nobleman to play along with the charade as to not arouse suspicion. Lyson, eyeing the man over, crosses his arms, fingering his cane leaning on his left thigh.
"O..oh, yes. Uhm.. hello friend. Erm.. I have the gold I owe you! -" Beval sits up, grabs the man's collar and pulls him down to eye level, which, for a halfling, is quite low.
"Do you want every guardsman in the southern district to hear about our business?!" He spits in a hushed whisper, holding the man's face near his. "Steal a married woman's undergarments?!" Beval sits back, regaining some composure. Lyson, sword half-drawn from his cane, relaxes aswell, sitting back in his chair.
"Nevertheless." He holds his hand out for the coin purse. The man begrudgingly hands over the promised coin and turns toward the door. "Oh, and don't be late next time." Beval remarks as he rifles through the coin purse.
"Well, you see... I needed to check in on the newest shipments of wine in tow-"
"Dead men don't drink wine. Be. On. Time." Beval ends, enunciating each word and waves the man away.
Skilled Work (Thief)
10 base + 10(Sleight of Hand) = 10g