A lonely boat sailed to the coast of Caurost through a thin fog and settling cold. It held not the effects of a traveler nor merchant but a simple shivering scumbag, his partner and his stolen few possessions. Rations ran dry days before they made landfall as the smart starved waste of rights failed to make appropriate preparations for his daring getaway.
See Jahabra Zhi'ling isn't your average thief. Most simple men wish for bread to feed their wives or clothes to cover their children but real intellectually emaciated swine strike above their station, blessed with hopes and dreams only the moronic have the rights to possess. And as a man who knows neither foresight nor consequence, dreams come as easy as jail time. And easy the jail time came when he had his second half hang him from the ceiling at a ball in a IQ-less effort to abscond with a royal's crown.
The gavel fell heavy, and the bars slammed shut. But mere-legal orders had no effect on our single celled no gooder. The amoeba hatched a plan, one of his best, a stroke evil artistry. After striking the guard with a rock they found, the 2 VILLAINS commandeered a cute lil dingy and half a days worth of rations and SAILED TO FREEDOM.
Freedom lasted 2 weeks, as the authorities of The Caurost Capital didn't take too kindly to the crime committers attempting to rob and burgle. They were chased out, and unfortunately separated as they ran inland, but destiny dictates that they shall meet again. It's all but written in the stars that their next idea be one of... poor quality...
The traveller has just arrived in a small town. As they look around, their gaze is met with run down houses and shops. They duck into one of the shacks, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the small room, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town?" She begins, then pauses to study their face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a chair, “Where do you come from? What do you hope to make of yourself?”
The stranger pauses, pupils drawn to the top of his eyes as he ponders the implications of her words. "Mi nuh mean no harm by mi pressance. Juss a' look fi ah comrade ah mine."
He spins the chair and sits, wrapping his legs around the back and leaning forward. "Weh I walk from, is of likkle consequence, but wha mi strive fah is of greatest importance. Riches and gold, power and women, treasures to be gained from mi wit an cunning." he pauses mid thought and cases his surrounding. Noticing the lack of witness he continues.
"Mi wit an cunning seh you muss have a purse pan yuh person..." He slowly pulls a knife from belt with sinister intent with a brainless grin on his face.
"...Might need to reveal the blade to scare me my friend..." as the woman looks down at his sheathed knife with pity and cringe.
"...Mi knife is nervous, happens to steel ovah fahty..." his words escape strained as he struggles to pull the blade from its casing. "One grunt moment!"
She stares awkwardly at the fumbling nere-do anything well. "Take... your time... I suppose my purse won't be running?"
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