Information traveled fast in a city where shadows had eyes and walls had ears. Word on the street was one self-proclaimed lord Gabriel Virias had recently acquired a letter with sensitive information regarding one of the church's bishops. Scandalous, outright heretical words penned by the bishop himself supposedly dotted the piece of paper, along the bishop's name and seal. Lord Virias likely intended to expand his influence by holding the bishop by his holy balls via blackmail, but a crafty sneak able to liberate the letter would undoubtedly make bank. Big animals like the parties involved were dangerous, yet extremely profitable to cross. Virias was known for his ties to the thieves' guild and it came as no surprise no local thief dared to cross the man. Independents, on the other hand...
One such freelance thief, a young half-elf, planned to abscond with said letter and poof before the 'lord' and his cronies turned the city upside down. The knife-ear's plan was nothing less than to squeeze the holy man for as much as she could and sell the letter back to Virias before the mobster-turned-lord sicked half the continent against her. It sounded easy in her head, but rather than worry about the after-robbery part, the girl's thoughts were currency pre-occupied by the break-in itself. The lord's mansion at Skinflint's Hill was bound to be stacked with valuables and guards alike. And as luck would have it, the new lord had called a masquerade ball for tonight, intent to weasel his way among the nobility.
A perfect opportunity for a thief.
Too perfect to miss, in fact, forcing the half-elven scoundrel to act fast. Over the past few days, she had mulled everything over and eventually, her mind had hatched a suitable plan or two.
Caslawen knew she lacked the posh manners and refined speech necessary to make it as a noble guest. That, and she had never heard of half-elven nobles. She knew, however, where her kind thrived; among the servants of noble lords and ladies. Short on staff for the upcoming event, the mansion was quick to hire almost any pair of hands. Especially if said pair of hands belonged to Eleanor, a thoroughly domesticated half-elf maid with excellent references; young half-elf maidens were always in high demand. Forging a foreign certificate and references gave Cas little trouble, especially since nobody bothered to check them up close. The same went for acquiring the same sort of outfit as she had seen on the servants from Virias manor.
Right now, with hours left to waste, she sat at the Speared Boar tavern. Still clad in a combination of leather and hide, she gave the appearance of a poacher rather than the maid she was to become. Soft, wistful tunes of a lute echoed through the establishment for the few customers within. Paying it no mind, Cas studied a makeshift map before her with an attentive gaze. Laid on the sturdy wooden table and inscribed on a discarded piece of paper, the map represented her only clue to the mansion's layout. Its accuracy was dubious at best as it had originated from the intoxicated mind of a drunken guard, but it beat going in completely blind.
A hand went to brush a strand of brown hair from her face before she perched her chin in a palm, resting the elbow against the table's frame and drawing a sigh. A bit of a hairball as far as her haircut went, the youngster didn't know whether to try and tame her thick, dark hair straight or leave it in its natural state. The teenage thief recalled how lower and upper social classes alike obsessed over the right and proper hair styling befitting their station but for the life of her could not remember the specifics.
*clink*
The familiar sound of a metal coin colliding with a wooden surface snapped her out of it. With a blink, Cas' scarlet gaze tore away from the map and scrutinized her surroundings for the source of the sound. She wouldn't say no to a purse full of silver if the opportunity presented itself.
