“Woah, okay hang on––” Morgan struggles slightly to keep her footing as the two guards drag her out of the tavern. “Guys, I can walk if you just slow down a bit, I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding––”
“Sit down.” The left guard forces her down onto a bench. “And don’t move, miss.”
“I saw her take it!” The dragonborn storms out after them. “She must be arrested at once!”
“Please start from the beginning, sir,” the right guard asks calmly. “Tell us what happened.”
As the dragonborn and the guards go back and forth, with occasional glances her way, Morgan puts on her usual act: be small, look frightened, act like you have the jitters.
Now just find the right levers in the lock on the manacles, and don’t rush it.
Slow is calm. Calm is smooth. Smooth is fast.
Plus, she needs the guards to start arguing with the dragonborn. They’ll get there, they always do.
As it starts, she slips the manacles off her wrists and ducks around the corner, pulling her hood up as she ducks into the inn next door, with a hushed finger to her lips at the four patrons and innkeeper in the foyer.
They all freeze at the sight of her, until she holds up a set of five gold coins, at which they all make a point of turning and ignoring her presence.
She casually grabs the doorframe, foists herself upwards, and then climbs up into the rafters above.
It takes the guards maybe five seconds to realize that she’s gone, and when one sticks his head inside to look around, neglects to look up.
“Did an elf run in here?” the guard asks.
“Elf?” The innkeeper squints at the guard. “Boy, this is the north. You think we get elves up here?”
The guard snarls in annoyance, and ducks out of the building and can be heard shouting as he makes his way down the street.
Morgan waits five seconds, before dropping down from the rafters.
“Thanks, folks.” She tosses each of them a coin. “Much appreciated.”
She turns and nearly runs face-first into an annoyed-looking kitsune.
“Nyx’s tits!” Morgan stumbles backwards and tries to pull a dagger.
Andrill grabs her wrist before she can go for it. “Don’t. I’m not the guards, I’m not going to make the mistake of thinking you’re helpless.”
Andrill looks past her. “You all can go now.”
The group all head into the back room, and a dark-haired woman in a fancy white coat steps out after them.
“Goddess above, Andrill, what the fuck?” Morgan squints at him, and lets go of her knife, leaving it sheathed. “...the hell are you doing here?”
“You stole something from a friend of mine,” Andrill says. “You didn’t know it was important, I’ll bet you didn’t even know who she was, but you need to give it back.”
“What? No, that’s not how this works.” Morgan puts a hand on her hip, opposite of where her blade is. “I didn’t even steal anything valuable beyond just gold and moonsilver.”
Andrill holds out his hand.
“...this is about the pendant, isn’t it?” Morgan asks. “Some coddled dragonborn noble got sad that one of her fancy heirlooms went missing, so she hired you to take it back?”
“This isn’t about money,” Andrill snarls.
“Oh, so you ended up in bed with her, and she thinks you stole it, huh?” Morgan scoffs. “Well, unfortunately for you––”
Morgan tries to draw her knife, only for her knees to buckle as they can’t keep up the rest of her body.
Morgan lands on all fours, her hands and knees pinned to the floor, the weight of the world seeming to have been put on her body all at once.
She hears heavy footsteps as the woman behind her walks around in front of her, and as she struggles to look upwards, Morgan sees the woman’s eyes glow with an unknown power, and he hear and coat float around as if weightless, or underwater.
Fear grips Morgan for a moment as the woman kneels down to look her in the eyes.
Morgan struggles, but cannot lift her hands or legs from the floor.
“I am not playing these games,” the woman says coldly. “Give us Luna’s pendant back, and you will walk away uninjured.”
Y-yeah…yeah, okay, okay, it’s…in my bag…” Morgan groans.
The woman steps forward, reaches into the bag on her hip, and produces the pendant.
“I am glad you saw reason.” The woman gets up and heads for the door. “Let’s go.”
“Right behind you.” Andrill falls in line.
As they leave the doorframe, whatever spell or power she cast on Morgan vanishes, and Morgan flips over onto her back, limbs aching, gasping for air.
Who in the hells was that?!
