He was the King of Thieves. He was the GOD DAMN FUCKING King of Thieves. And here he was, finding himself running around half of Connlaoth like an idiot over some girl he had become infatuated with and now she had gone off and married the Grand Duke. (Well, to be fair, Lady Kathryn HAD informed him about the engagement... not that it had stopped him before..) But he always seemed to have this terribly rotten luck with women as he angrily fondled the gold ring on his pinky. There were a lot of rings on his fingers, but this one represented his first mistake. And what he was about to do... might be representing his last.
And now that he had been spotted near the Grand Duke's palace, he fucking became a target for every god damn mordecai and soldier in the damn place. He'd go North or South, East or West, it did not matter, his face was plastered on wanted poster EVERYWHERE. Though he wasn't entirely sure if sometimes he was being chased after as the right person. Sometimes he'd be chased after, called the 'Allarrian Mage Bandit' or some crock of shit like that. And a pirate? Come on, did he look like a god damn fucking pirate!? He was the FUCKING KING OF THIEVES!!!
And now it was raining, no, scratch that, POURING, and his boots were soaked well through wiht water, as was his hair, HIS GOD DAMN FUCKING HAIR, which he took pride in and tended to with the utmost of care; was kept in a braid. And now, his god damn hair was a god damn soggy mess, and his long bangs now remained in spider like splinters across his face, dripping with rain.
"God damn fucking weather," he grumbled, leaning against the shadows beside a building as he sniffed and tapped his boots aside, attempting to shake out some of the extra water. Thankfully it was night time, and thankfully the guards, albeit there were way more than usual, were as stupid as ever. He had easily lost the ones who had been pursuing him,a nd once the coast was clear, he shook his head and took off down the cobblestone street, looking for something, anything that looked familiar.
She said she'd sent the letters to him here, in a book inside the library tucked away.
God damn it. Their relationship had turned into some stupid love letter war, and he vowed the next time he saw her, he'd have to break this off.
Or it'd fucking kill him.
Even so, he found himself muttering up a storm of curses as he made his way towards the Library in Uthlyn fully determined to find the lost written letters of his sweatheart; Kathryn. It was closed by now but he'd have to find a clever way to get in, and paused just before it, craning his neck up to take the thing in. God damn it..
Would that thing ever be one fucker to climb...