Outside the limits of Brookshire, Stormy sat under a tree. She could still smell the hemp smoke from the fire she started in the warehouse on her clothing "Flaming dragonballs! How could I be so careless!?", she chastised herself. Well, at least the flint she dropped in the bin of hemp couldn't be traced back to her or so she assumed. It wasn't even hers.. It has been procured from someone on a wharf in Mysthaven. As did the grey wool cloak that concealed her in the brush.
Her breath heaved and she had a stich in her side. She had ran with the sack of goods she had stolen all the from from the warehouse. She was obscured in this small cluster of trees and bushes. A good time to take inventory of what she managed to grab. Opening the large canvas bag, she brushed aside the hemp. The young thief knew of some people who would pay good money for it. Such a shame she didn't have time to grab more. If only she didn't knock... Stormy shook the memory of the flint falling into the bin and continued to rummage. Some wool. Nothing special. Ah.. a few crystal bottles. Now these were just grand. Grand as a goat's turd stuck with buttercups, she thought. She opened the stopper on one bottle and sniffed the floral fragance.The girl didn't know much about such fineries as perfume, but she did know it had to be expensive just by the container. More wool. Some more crystal bottles. She withdrew one. It had a curious milky substance inside. Opening one of those bottles, Stormy took a whiff. Her nose scrunched. Not perfume. But what is it? She shrugged and set it aside. Perhaps Direlette would know. Digging down further, through even more wool, she pulled out a few wrapped figurines. She took off the wrappings and studied them in the little bit of light that she had. Two seemed to be made from bone or ivory. Another from crystal. They didn't look like anything special to her. One of the bone ones even gave her the creeps. She shuddered when she stuffed it back in the sack. Perhaps it was some sort of religious artifact. If it was, she was going to be certain to avoid that particular religion. Good thing she stuffed all that wool in. Otherwise the bottles and figurines would be clinking with her every step.. not to mention breaking. She had to laugh at the thought of being traced by the perfume fragrance. She sniffed. No, it wouldn't be the perfume smell that gave her away. She had dallied enough in the small grove. Time to move on back to Mysthaven. Rising, she shucked the grey cloak. So, it was cold. She'd survive until she managed to get to the next village. Hopefully, it had a tavern. The young thief cursed the moonlight when she stepped out. When she had started the adventure that evening, the moon was obscured by clouds. Now, it was bright in the sky. Sure, her clothes were dark, but there was nothing she could do about her platinum blonde hair right then. After a while, Stormy came upon an inn on the outskirts of a town. One she thankfully had never been to. It was late and most of the patrons were snoring face down on the table. Even the innkeeper was dozing by the bar. A small smile curled upon her lips when she saw a young man teetering on the verge of passing out. From what she could tell, he was about her height. "Have a room here?" she leaned over and asked in her most seductive voice. It was easy to charm men with a voice like hers... low and husky. After the young man nodded, she coerced him into taking her there. She had always found preying on the drunk to be very easy. Stormy shouldered the sack again and followed her staggering new friend up the stairs. A few times she had to catch him. Didn't matter much. She didn't want him for that! He fell into his bed almost immediately. Quickly, the blonde thief stripped him of his breeches and shirt. She exchanged her garments for his. So, his smelled like a tavern., better than reeking of smoke and hemp! Before she left, she rummaged through the sack and pulled out a small gold trinket. It has pieces of wool and small leaves of hemp stuck to it. Laying it on the bed near his head, she hoped it would throw the authorities off her trail... if they were even on it. The young man's cloak was laying on a chair next to the door. She grabbed it, almost as an afterthought. On the way down the stairs she shrugged it over her shoulders. Brown. Not her most flattering color, she thought. Oh well, it was dark and it had a hood... which she pulled over her head to obscure her face. Stormy walked out of the inn as inconspicuously as possible and into the night... -- To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: [EMAIL PROTECTED] Archives & Other DMI Lists: http://islesofmyst.com/lists.php3
