#thievary

like a dragon hoards gold, the nobility of faerûn hold onto their coppers like serpents ; coiled tightly 'round the neck of a sack of gold LIKE A NOOSE. even rowe's own father was guilty of this, as good of a lord as he was, even great men had their greatest flaws. he wonders should the man see how far his second son has fallen, would he be ashamed? the warlock grits his teeth and looks towards sharesses' caress. the toy maker would be inside, and when they find him? they'll WRING HIM for more than just a pass to the inauguration. " deal. "

the quiet of the night was a welcome reprieve from the constant trials of the day. shadowheart was always more than accepting for a moment of solitude to delve into her sharran studies, her focus intent on the small book in her lap, its contents filled with the cryptic script of her faith. her reverie was quickly interrupted by the sound of soft footsteps approaching, though. eyes look up just in time to see her tent flap reveal niamh moving with her usual quiet grace. watching as the rogue sets a plate of hearty food on a makeshift table, shadowheart's curiosity piques by the unexpected visit. and action. arching an eyebrow, the half-eye attempts to suppress a small smile, failing in the process. "i see your subtlety extends beyond just your thievery," she speaks up dryly, although there's a hint of warmth laced throughout her voice. "thank you." reaching for the plate, a welcome sight after a long day (and reading), the cleric gestures to an empty spot beside her. "join me. it's not often we get a chance to share a meal without some impending disaster looming over us."