It was often asked why Honovi bothered with such low, muddy work. By all accounts, being related to an Archon as he was, being as high up in the food chain as he was, he shouldn't have had to do work a day in his life. Not this kind of work, anyway, the kind that involved long, rainy, miserable walks through the woods and the monotony of checking books and shipments.
"Delegate, Honey. That's what being the boss is about." Was an oft-repeated sentiment that Honovi could only smile and wave aside. After all, if you wanted to guarantee something was being done right, you needed to do it yourself, and having the boss come down on the regular to inspect your work meant there was less temptation to get a little... sloppy... with the goods.
In the end, arguing for that bottom line always won. In the end, Honovi had the satisfaction of knowing that getting sloppy with the goods didn't always mean a crate of contraband.
The truth of it was that Honovi loved the low, muddy work. He loved trading in his fine outfits for traveling leathers, loved strapping his quiver to his back and putting away all the baubles that usually decorated him. The low, muddy work meant strong, practical armor, warm, familiar furs, and above all else it meant absolute freedom.
Or, at least, the illusion of freedom. Honovi knew these outings were only temporary. He knew that he'd be expected back without delay, and he knew any excuse that might be drummed up would be thrown under such harsh suspicion that he'd not be able to go out again for months at a time. It was better to just take what he could get— better to have a few days out of each month versus a week out of four.
But, certain catastrophic instances were more than excuse enough. When the cry of "fire" went up, for a single, fevered moment Honovi was ecstatic. He'd need to have an investigation, he'd need to re-tally their inventory, he'd need to cut the hands off of whoever was responsible and whip the shit out of whoever had been on guard duty. It was so much work, packaged and tied up with a bow and dropped right into his lap like his birthday had come early.
No gift came without a price.
Sure, the weather had allowed for more fire-prone conditions, but it had been like this for a few days now. It was suspicious that there would suddenly be an emergency of this magnitude just as he arrived onto the scene. Best case scenario, it was an entire fluke and he'd be taking every last lost item out of someone's negligent skin.
Worst case scenario was a trap. Fires had this nasty little habit of being, all at once, entirely destructive and amazingly distracting. No one paid attention to shit when a fire was happening, not like they were usually meant to do. Honovi watched from his window with vague interest for a moment, before stepping out into the hallway to instruct one of his more seasoned guards to go sniff out whatever rats might be thinking they'd get a cut of grain.
It meant emptying the inn, of course, and leaving Honovi perfectly alone. Which, perhaps, for someone who was used to simply delegating all his life, might have been dangerous. He pulled an arrow from the quiver resting by his bed, and knocked it against his bow in a slow, silent motion, tucked back against the corner to have an easy target of both the door and singular window.
All he had to do was wait.
Turns out, he didn't have to wait very long. It was impressive for a thief to choose the window here, considering the feat of acrobatics it required, but ultimately it wasn't surprising. What was surprising was just how... handsome the thief was.
Well, maybe not that surprising. A lot of thievery relied on natural guile and charm. But this sort of job seemed less the conman's gambit, and so Honovi had simply prepared himself to shoot some random nameless miscreant in the throat and be done with his evening.
Shooting this one in the throat simply would not do. Honovi shifted his aim just to the right, and the arrow cut through the air before landing with a loud THUNK in the wood of the windowpane just inches from the thief's ear. Already knocking another arrow, Honovi drew it back even as he stepped from his corner, his night robe unbound and sleeves rolled up for ease of movement.
"That was a courtesy, not an error. Don't move, or I'll make sure you don't." He said in a low drawl as if it was all casually boring to him. He'd always had a distinct talent for acting, after all.
