The Thief

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Here it is.

Prologue

From the Rashad estate a shadowy figure could be sparsely seen ducking behind the hedges and statues, and stealthily making his way to a nearby window with a catlike grace. This was Tyris Nightblade, finest assassin in all of Amn, or so he liked to think. As he stalked to his destination, he recalled his briefing the night before in the guildhall, Tyris was to kill the head of the house, Jeran, for my client’s merchant business he believed was the name He reached the window without error, and chanced a look inside before entering, nothing. The room was completely dark except for what little light was able to seep in from the oil lit lantern a few yards away. Tyris then attempted to open it not expecting any result and in return there was none. A swift gust of wind blew his hood off, exposing both his scarred face and his short light brown hair. Ignoring the fact that he could now easily be spotted and recognized, Tyris pulled out the necessary tools for the task at hand. He worked as quickly as he could, disregarding the fact that he had no idea where to find a lock on a window (despite his experience). Perhaps this was a mistake, as he quickly mistook an unseen hole in the window for a lock and after thrusting the pick in and turning half of the window collapsed before him causing the rather loud sound of glass being shattered to echo throughout the estate. “Oh forsake it all!” Tyris whispered sharply as he looked desperately for something or other to hide in. Unable to locate anything within reasonable distance Tyris was forced to simple crouch in the corner and wait. He continued on in that fashion for five minutes or so until he was sure no one had heard. Slowly, Tyris rose still alert and stepped closer to the window. He remembered his hood and put it back on. The opening he had created was just large enough to slip through without much trouble. He then hoisted himself up through then window to enter the room. He was beginning to regain his poise since his rather unorthodox entrance, and lit a match from his pocket to get a better look at his surroundings.

It appeared to Tyris that he was inside of a study, and a rather large one at that, though it hadn’t much in it. The leather pouch full of something that looked like gold coins on an oak desk caught his eye, no harm in securing a bit more profit than what the guild was paying him, right? But now to the matter at hand, Tyris located the door at the far right side of the room and put his ear to the door. He thought he heard something, but then again… the young guildsman grasped his dagger began to open the door just a crack, praying the hinges did not squeak. They didn’t. Not that it helped for there was no one in the corridor. Tyris stepped into the hall, his worn leather boots almost silent on the cold stone floor. The match had by now burnt down to his fingertips and he muffled a yelp the thief dropped them to the ground. Luckily, these halls were lit by torch, providing enough light to get around easily enough. He moved now through the corridor examining the busts of various noblemen and aristocratic merchants all of which where apparently related to his mark. Tyris thought of stealing one, a bust of that quality would fetch quite a price on the black market but decided against it, as they were much to heavy. He jumped at the sound of footsteps drawing nearer, nearer. The were a few short moments away from the turn where he would be in full sight when a slightly panicked Tyris ducked into the nearest door on his left. A storeroom, The floor was littered with barrels and sacks, some piled and others in rows a great room to hide in though the assassin doubted the cause of those foots steps would enter this room in particular. Of course he was correct. After a while the sound of footsteps ceased to reach his ears. The night went on in this manner for some time sneaking, peering into rooms, and running for cover whenever anyone was near. That is until he reached his mark. Tyris noted his weight and the snoring, disgusting. He wondered at the fact that most merchants were similar in those traits, the rich ones at least. At the angle, which the man slept, however, it was impossible to slit his throat so Tyris was forced to resort to a stab in the back. Not that it put him at any disadvantage, as he was more used to marks already awake. He frowned, unsheathed his blade and thrusted. “AAAAAARGHHH!!!” The man scream permeated throughout the halls like the call of a bat, alerting everyone and thing in its range. Tyris cursed aloud now that his stealth was given away, now seeing the problem: He had stabbed the man to low and on the wrong side. The fates had surely frowned on him that night, as he would never make such an amateur mistake in all his days to come, Tyris was a fine assassin and couldn’t let things such as this onto his record. He burst out of the room like an airborne dagger, speeding through the halls, cloak flying at his back as guards and the like pursued. As he ran Tyris saw that they were attempting to chase him to the door, he would not let them fool him and turned the way he came in through the window. As he neared the opening he dove through it causing several cuts on his legs and arms but still he ran. As he galloped on to the gates he spotted the two guards there waiting for him. He was caught, he of all people, the finest assassin in Amn, brought to end by a turn of fate. The very idea was absurd! Nevertheless, his future was inevitable. He came to an abrupt stop,still panting from the dash and raised his arm in surrender.

[ September 24, 2002, 20:28: Message edited by: Kayafein Ara'dain ]

 

Its good, but make up your mind, is it Amn or Tethyr. And why is there a desert wind, there are no deserts in eitheer Tethyr or Amn. Just thought I'd point these mistakes out. I like it as a whole though