With the grace of many years, Petaekka walked into the tavern. The purse she had snitched that morning had been emptied and a few silver coins from the bag had been replaced into her own satchel at her hip. A morning that profitable definately deserved a reward and a pint of ale was definately what the doctor ordered.
She knew almost the moment that she entered that she was about to get more than she bargined for by the sly glances the old, fat, fools gave her. Their twisted grins held more meaning than any words possibly could, but she didn't care. It wasn't the first time a man had underestimated her and it most certainly wouldn't be the last. In the other corner she saw someone that reaked thief from the pipe in his hand that looked like it cost more than his entire attire, along with the four empty mugs of ale that sat before him, a fifth held in his hand. It was he who she was most afraid of. When a thief met another thief there were no rules of combat that they had to follow. Double checking to make sure her dagger was still attatched to her belt, but hidden from view, Peta sat at the bar, pushing away a hand that reached out to her.
"Not int'rested" she snapped. Better to let them know where she stood before anything else might happen. Not saything that just her words would stop someone determined enough; that was what her blade was for.
"Come here often?" a voice asked from behind her. Twirling her stool around she was about to tell him off worse than the first man, but his attire and the heavy purse by his side stopped her words. Immediately she clouded her eyes with complete innocence and shook her head vigorously.
"No, sir." she masked her heavy street accent, giving herself a more noble appearance, "and I would not come in here if I had somewhere else to go!" she hurried on like a scared prissy girl who, although she had run away, was still living by the higher standards. The noble man sat down next to her and ordered two drinks. Some hot tea "for the Lady" and a brandy for himself.
"What is your name?" he asked pleasantly, sipping his drink with care. Stirring the tea absently she looked up and then quickly back down at her cup. This was too easy. No matter how many times they were warned, nobles lived by there own rules and was screwed over by them as well.
"Emilia" she muttered, "Emilia Roselyn" and how many times had she used that cover name? Haha, it worked every time.
"Well, Emilia Roselyn. What are you doing in the middle of Adela, in a tavern no less? This surely isn't a place a young lady such as youself should be. And what are these clothes you have donned?"
"My mother and father...they were going to have me marry and wicked, wicked man...but they would not listen to me when I told them...so I ran away." The conversation continued much like this, the noble man "Endwar" giving her advice on how to talk to her parents and the like. As time passed he stood and paid the bar tender before turning to Petaekka and offering her to come and stay with his family for the night. Polietly refusing she stood and curtsied like a "good little girl" and the man shook her hand. When he turned to leave her fingers danced expertly across his belt and in seconds the small purse was clasped tightly in her hand. Oh what a wonderful, wonderful day this was!