Figging Law | @amarright
@amarright
It had been a few days since Zeerith’s less than stellar introduction to Obsian, and he had finally managed to find his feet. It hadn’t taken much doing; he was used to living in underground cities, even if this one wasn’t quite what he was used to. The finer points still mildly eluded him, but that wasn’t totally new either. He was sure it would all work out eventually. He’d settled in. Starting from scratch had been a bit of a challenge, but he’d always had a knack for making new contacts. He also had a knack for spotting other thieves, a talent that was currently coming in very handy.
The human he’d spotted probably thought he was being very sneaky, and who knew? Maybe to the other humans in the city, he was being sneaky. Still, picking pockets wasn’t easy, and there were those guards about. Zeerith might not be the most upright person in the world, but he wasn’t about to stand back and let someone get arrested for no reason. As far as he knew, the guards here would be exactly as ruthless as the noble’s bodyguards in Menzoberranzan.
The would-be thief didn’t seem to be noticing Zee’s attempts at the cant sign for danger. A distraction, then. He straightened up from the wall he had been leaning against, double checking his hood was up and mostly covering his face, and cast dancing lights. A single point of bright, glowing light sprung into being some distance away, drawing most people’s attention for at least a moment, and giving Zeerith enough time to slip across to the human and lightly tap his arm.
“Bit of a cobbled road you’re on, brother,” he said, softly as he could. “Lot of rust on it, too.”
