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Apr. 28th, 2008 10:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
uberniftacularLast night I had a burst of inspiration and came up with a backstory one-shot for my new D&D character...and tonight I had another burst of inspiration that enabled me to actually write it down. Here goes, have fun...
Creeping through the dimly-lit, sleepy town, the shadowy figure was barely visible as she approached the closed window of the darkened shop. A gentle push confirmed her suspicions: the window was indeed locked. A brief reach into the pouch at her belt yielded the item she was looking for, the long, thin piece of metal the served her as a lock pick. After just a few quick jiggles, she heard the satisfying “click” that indicated that she’d gotten the lock open. She stowed the pick back in her pouch and gave the window a push. At the loud creak that resulted, she froze, hoping nobody had heard it. Between the black clothes, her dark hair, and the soot she had rubbed onto her face, hands, and delicately pointed ears, she was virtually invisible in the shadows, but it never hurt to be on the safe side. After a minute or so, she decided it was safe to move again, and rummaged in her pouch once more, producing a small vial of oil. She put a drop or two on each hinge, let it soak in while she put the vial back into her pouch, and then pushed the window open the rest of the way. Glancing around once more to ensure that nobody was watching, she hoisted herself onto the sill and slithered through the small opening. Once inside, she gave herself a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the even greater darkness, then looked around at her surroundings. She was fairly familiar with the layout of the small, grimy shop, having been inside it several times over the past few days (though never alone; she always made sure to enter with a small group of people, to draw less attention to herself). Soon after beginning her search, her gaze landed on the object she had come here for. Quickly crossing the room, she scooped up the small, dusty book and ran her fingers over the cover, before placing it into the pouch that she had made specifically for it. When she had first seen it in the store’s window, she was sure that the owner had no idea what he was holding; her suspicions were confirmed when she watched countless people walk past it without giving it a second glance. She hurried back to the window, slithered through it, and closed it behind her, not leaving a trace of her passing. She was anxious to return to the spot under the bridge that she called home; she wanted to see if this book contained the secrets she sought. Still keeping to the shadows as she traveled, Laurana Tsaldari faded away into the night, carrying with her what she hoped would be her next level of education.
Creeping through the dimly-lit, sleepy town, the shadowy figure was barely visible as she approached the closed window of the darkened shop. A gentle push confirmed her suspicions: the window was indeed locked. A brief reach into the pouch at her belt yielded the item she was looking for, the long, thin piece of metal the served her as a lock pick. After just a few quick jiggles, she heard the satisfying “click” that indicated that she’d gotten the lock open. She stowed the pick back in her pouch and gave the window a push. At the loud creak that resulted, she froze, hoping nobody had heard it. Between the black clothes, her dark hair, and the soot she had rubbed onto her face, hands, and delicately pointed ears, she was virtually invisible in the shadows, but it never hurt to be on the safe side. After a minute or so, she decided it was safe to move again, and rummaged in her pouch once more, producing a small vial of oil. She put a drop or two on each hinge, let it soak in while she put the vial back into her pouch, and then pushed the window open the rest of the way. Glancing around once more to ensure that nobody was watching, she hoisted herself onto the sill and slithered through the small opening. Once inside, she gave herself a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the even greater darkness, then looked around at her surroundings. She was fairly familiar with the layout of the small, grimy shop, having been inside it several times over the past few days (though never alone; she always made sure to enter with a small group of people, to draw less attention to herself). Soon after beginning her search, her gaze landed on the object she had come here for. Quickly crossing the room, she scooped up the small, dusty book and ran her fingers over the cover, before placing it into the pouch that she had made specifically for it. When she had first seen it in the store’s window, she was sure that the owner had no idea what he was holding; her suspicions were confirmed when she watched countless people walk past it without giving it a second glance. She hurried back to the window, slithered through it, and closed it behind her, not leaving a trace of her passing. She was anxious to return to the spot under the bridge that she called home; she wanted to see if this book contained the secrets she sought. Still keeping to the shadows as she traveled, Laurana Tsaldari faded away into the night, carrying with her what she hoped would be her next level of education.