'Night Moves'

On the outskirts of a small town far to the South, a figure was crouched low behind a boulder, digging through his backpack with fierce intensity. He wanted to be ready before the sun's remaining light slipped away, forcing him to rely on memory to get him down the slope as using a torch was not an option.

A crooked smile broke his tense features, making him seem even more the rogue than he was, but a charming one at that, as his fingers closed on his most valued treasure; a moonsilver inlaid drathain lockpick that had been in his family for as long as he could remember. He picked it up and held it tight within his grasp briefly, kissed it and slid it into the pocket of his long black cloak.

Moving quickly now, he stood and hefted his backpack up off the ground slipping an arm through the one remaining strap. The lingering soreness in his right shoulder reminded him of his last attempt at robbing the Keep; sure as the owl hoots at night though, he was determined to succeed at his goal this eve.

One that night, one week ago he had scaled the stone barrier surrounding Kesten's Keep; and after dropping lightly to the ground he had moved stealthily through the trees towards the back of the property where a trapdoor was located, slightly hidden from sight.

It had only taken him a few minutes to pick the rusty but still sturdy lock upon the trapdoor, and without thinking; so filled with excitement as he was, he grabbed one of the iron handles and swung one side of the heavy door swiftly open then froze in shock as the old hinges moaned their protest from months of nonuse.

He instantly froze, every nerve in his body alert for signs of trouble. When no shout or rush of footsteps approached, only then did he move slowly, cautiously, down to the first step leading into the cellar, then to the next one and the next after that.

Then it happened; a dark skinned, short and incredibly wiry San Elf, leapt seemingly out of nowhere, grabbed one of his ankles and yanked violently, sending him plunging head first down the last few remaining stairs.

He dropped his backpack to get his hands out in front of himself but it was too late, thrown off balance as he was, he landed hard upon his shoulder, gritting his teeth against the sudden flare up of pain. Suddenly from the corner of his eye he saw a glint of metal plunging down towards his back. He rolled swiftly to the side and lurched to his feet.

The San, so intent on plunging the dagger into this intruder, lost his own balance and fell on his knees to the floor. The thief then whirled around, clenched his hands into fists and struck the San on the back of the neck, causing him to collapse, then grabbed his backpack and ran up the stairs and out the door, where he stopped and hastily closed it before continuing his wild retreat back through the trees and over the wall.

Wincing at the still fresh memory of that fiasco, he worked at focusing himself by pushing all thoughts of everything but the task at hand from his mind as he once again approached the stone barrier. With a quick glance around, he pulled himself up and over; glad that the sky was blanketed with clouds to hide the light from the moon.

Moving steadily he soon found himself standing against a tree about fifteen yards from the trapdoor, he did nothing but listen for any sounds that did not belong, and watch for any movement that would signal trouble was brewing. After several minutes when nothing out of the ordinary happened, he carefully approached the door, and spying a new lock, pulled his lockpick out and once again, set about picking the lock open. "Uhoh" he muttered as he heard an odd double click though and suddenly before his eyes he saw a strange land, the skies were a deep turquoise blue and fields that spanned for great distances grew thick with overgrown sage brush; he got a glimpse of something large rising up over the tall weeds and it looked like a creature he had only heard stories about: a tark totem beast...then there was a flash of green light as he resisted the trap and the image was gone.

He whispered a silent prayer that he had not been transed to that place... Dropping to one knee he opened his backpack, reached a hand in and rummaged around till he found a small vial of liquid that he had acquired just for the hinges of this old door so they would not make such a loud ruckus as before; after pouring several drops onto and around each hinge he waited a few moments to let it soak in and do its work.

Confident that the fluid had done the trick, he stood, and grasping the handle, slowly pulled open the door, and heard....absolutely nothing. His face broke out in a sly grin as he pulled it all the way open and rested it on the ground then ran a hand along the top of his boot reassuring himself his dagger was still in place. Once again stepping onto the first step and stopping; body now tense and poised for flight if the San should try to pull the same stunt again.

When nothing happened he went down further into the inky blackness, all senses alert. Still nothing; that in itself made him ponder what it could mean. Now, all the way in the cellar, he heard no sounds, no breathing, no boot sliding against the ground in nervous anticipation; nothing but absolute quiet filled this space surrounding him.

With halting steps he moved towards the door that would take him into the Keep itself. This next lock was more difficult he soon found out and it took several minutes before it gave. By this time beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead and his anxiety level had risen by several degree's, but he was almost there.

Stepping through this door; his nose was assailed by the scent of spices and roasted meat. Completely ignoring this fact he continued making his way through the hall turning right where it opened into a big room with a long narrow hallway that opened at the other end. His source had told him it was the room at the end of the hall that held the locked chest and as this was his last job, he would be set for life if he was successful.

What seemed like minutes later but had been only mere seconds, he found himself standing in front of a massive oak cabinet. An oversized iron lock hung from a hinge that spanned the entire length of the cabinet. Wasting no time now, he set his backpack on the floor and began searching for a trap on the cabinet, and it was only a few minutes later that he found one, and a nasty one at that; it was an acid storm trap and he knew if he failed to disarm that, he would be a dead thief faster than he could gasp in shock. He feverishly began to disarm the trap as the seconds turned into minutes and the sweat started dripping down the sides of his face. About five minutes later he heard three short rapid clicking sounds and knew he had successfully disarmed it.

He sat back briefly on the floor and mopped his face with the bottom of his shirt then stood; and grasping the lockpick in his hand, set to work picking the lock as carefully but swiftly as he could while paying attention to any sound that might inform him he had been spotted.

Several minutes later he heard the sweet sound of the lock opening up and had to literally stop himself from howling with delight at his success. With trembling hand he opened the cabinet door and reached a hand in to the back, almost immediately finding a velvet jewel pouch which he hastily slipped in his backpack before reaching in again with both hands and grabbing several bags of coins as fast as he could. He slipped those into his backpack; then almost as an intended insult he pulled one of the bags back out, and removed a single gold coin, leaving it on the shelf in a place where it would be spotted first.

It was time to move; making sure he had got all that he could and had not left anything of his behind, he closed the cabinet door and backtracked down the hall, back through the dining hall, out the door and finally, out through the trapdoor.

Breathing in a quick breath of the cool night air, he danced a few happy steps before giving the Keep an arrogant look, then slipped into the trees, heading for the stone barrier. Unknown to him though, he had been watched by a pair of black eyes from the moment he arrived. Eyes that still watched him now as he sauntered jauntily away.

The San trailed on a course parallel to the Humans and he was easy to track, for the Human, in all his foolishness had thrown caution to the wind and made no efforts to be quiet as he neared the wall. He set his backpack upon a nearby rock and pulled a flask of whiskey out of his cloak then took a long drink, taking comfort in the warmth that filled him up and chased the chill away.

He put the cap back on the flask then removed it again and took several more large swallows in his mouth, emptying it completely. He put the flask back in his cloak then picked his backpack up and clumsily crawled back over the wall. A few moments before the Human began moving again, the San moved on ahead and effortlessly climbed over the stone wall and got into position; then waited... The thief dropped to his feet from the wall and stumbled his way around brush and stumps and the like as he headed back to town. At one point he had to detour around a big tree that had fallen last winter and not paying attention to where he put his feet, he tripped over a branch and fell heavily to the ground. He did not care though; he was rich, half intoxicated and anyway..what's a few bruises?

The San approached him as quietly as he could as he lay upon the ground and the thief was not even the slightest bit aware that someone was approaching. He pulled an old rag from his tunic and with one deft movement, kneeled on the Human's back and without so much as a grunt, gagged the thief's mouth then pulled the dagger from the thief's boot before moving away.

"Roll over fool." He ordered.

The thief, not knowing who or how many he might be dealing with complied, his mind racing. As his eyes met his foe's though, he moaned in dismay through the gag.

The San just stood there glaring down at him, an evil look upon his face as he tossed the dagger back and forth from one hand to the other; effortlessly of course. He then slid the dagger in the sheathe at his waist and moving in close, reached down for the backpack, taking great enjoyment in watching the expressions flickering across the thief's face; they seemed to range from shock, to bewilderment, to flat out rage because he had been so successful in his take and now, in the span of a few minutes had apparently lost it all.

Lost it to the San Elf who had foiled his earlier attempt at robbing the Keep. He ripped the gag from his mouth and spat in anger at the San's boots, fire burning in his eyes as he sought a way to get back what he had just stolen..

"Get up, and get up slowly" The San spat.

Scowling with cold blooded rage, the thief did as he was told and fixed stony eyes upon the one who had just taken his dreams away.

"You will listen to me and you will listen good" The San fairly hissed at him.

"Did you know you were being watched from the moment you climbed that wall?" The San asked as he gestured back towards the Keep.

"I have watched you from when you first arrived and made note of all your actions," Then he said something that filled the thief with fear, "You have seen me, so now you must die. Now turn and start walking, you do anything funny and your dagger will be in your back before you can take another breath." The San said with a chuckle.

The thief glanced once more towards the Keep and then slowly began heading back to town, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He was just thinking of what his family would do when they found out he was dead, when he heard the San behind him, snickering to himself, and it got louder and louder as they traveled along...

His anger rising once more, the thief whirled around and was taken aback by what he saw before him; no longer was the San there...He let out a moan of embarrassment when he realized it was his mentor!

"Let this be a lesson to you on caution and to plan ahead. You did good by taking care of the noisy trapdoor, bringing a dagger this time, being more watchful, but you failed to look for a trap on the trapdoor!, you did not even notice I was watching you and never, ever stay close by a place you have just robbed sucking down the booze!"

"One question, What happened to the real San Elf?" The thief asked sheepishly.

"He looked so very tired that I did him the favor of helping him get some sleep, he will not wake up for, oh...another six or seven hours.." His mentor said with a smirk.

His mentor handed his student the backpack, and still chuckling to himself, slapped him good naturedly on the back as they headed back to town.

Leyara Rin