A Scar in Time: The Brotherhood of Thieves » Places

         

The sun had started to climb higher and higher into the sky as the band of thieves positioned themselves across the High District. The air was still lightly chilled, but slowly started to warm within the sun's heat. It's light had reached the city streets by now, and now had almost completely robbed the warband of their element. It was Ajax's plan all along, to rob the warband of their most powerful element: Surprise. But little had they any knowledge of the larger heist they were about to preform, in broad daylight.

Separated from one another, the thieves had found their locations and had started their jobs. Slowly rising up from kneeling, Ajax turned to his apprentice. It was time for the both of them to find their location for the heist. Moving back a few feet on the roof, Ajax pushed himself forward and pushed with a grunt off of the roof, over the wide city street. With no effort, Ajax's hands grasped the ledge of the building across from them -a good 10 foot jump-. After raising himself up with ease, Ajax lowered himself onto the roof of the other building, reaching his hand down to the ground and his palm out towards his apprentice. Giving her a target for her to jump too.

Tetsuya

The upper floor of the small shop was the keeper's small apartment. Like most shops in the city, it consisted of 3 floors: The ground floor, which was where the merchandise, and business transactions were. The floor below that was usually a stockroom, a storage area, or a seller for more... Luxurious items such as wines, expensive ales, and perhaps a dash of your illegal goods. Then, the floor above the ground floor: The apartment, where the keeper would live. While most of the time this acted like a part-time house, it could be easily lived permanently... Depending on the success of the shop.

The apartment was void of live, with no noise or sounds of life. From what it sounded like, the shopkeeper was either downstairs opening up the shop, or simply not home all together. The small raised bed had clean sheets, and looked like it had been made recently. Next to the bed was a small nightstand, with a cup and bottle of wine on top of it. The keeper had slept here recently, but where was he? From the downstairs level, he could make out the sound of footsteps... Climbing the stairs to the level he was on.

Istillio

The small shop the Northman found himself in was... Small. Compact. His head just barely under the ceiling by a foot or 2. The shop went about 20 feet back, and must have been only 10-12 feet wide. In front of him -in the middle of the room- was the foundry, a massive circle made of pieces of cobblestone, that had risen 2-3 feet above ground. Inside of the circle were fractals of coal, and parts of broken metals that had been chipped away from swords, and other weaponry. Inside of the coals were the light embers of the fire within it warming up.

Above the foundry was a vent, made of wood. While the foundry was active, the vent would take the smoke and let it out of the shop. Behind the foundry stood a rack of weapons, at a right angle to the floor. On the rack were spears, daggers, throwing knives, but also larger weapons; like warhammers, and greatswords. Each one of them carried the prowess of excellent dwarven craft. While the swords and daggers looked excellent, it was the larger weapons that looked like they had time put into them. They were massive, and well decorated. They were the work of master hands, hands that had created hundreds -if not thousands- of the same weapons before.

Suddenly, as Istillio walked forward into the shop, he spotted through the corner of his eye a dwarf standing to his left, ontop of a flight of stairs that lead to the next level up. As he turned to look at the short man, the dwarf smiled and threw his arms wide open as he walked down the stairs.

"Velcom!" The dwarf shouted welcomingly as he waddled down the stairs. He was short, yet massive at the same time. While being only 4-and-a-half to 5 feet tall, his shoulder width must have been the same length. The dwarf was wearing a while shirt underneath a black, leather blacksmith apron. His arms were massive, and thick like tree trunks. In Istillio's mind, he looked like a small mountain. The hair on his head was long and red, with burned patches and black spots in a few spots from the forge. His face, from what Istillo could tell, was square-ish with 2 small blue eyes hidden under thick red brows. But the most prominent part of the dwarf was by far... his beard.

His beard was the same color as his hair, a thick red, with the same texture. But instead it looked more well-kept than his hair. At least a foot in length from his chin to the end, it was a symbol of his strength and fortitude -as it is to most dwarves-. But even from the dwarves Istillio had met in the north, this mans beard was by far the greatest.

With a crack akin to thunder, the dwarf lowered himself to the final step of the stairs so the both of them were on the same level. Now at -almost- eye level, Istillio could see the massive smile on the dwarves face. Welcoming, and friendly. Reaching his hand out, the dwarve's voice boomed out once more.

"Velcom, dea' friend! V'what brings ye' to me humble found'r'y?" Much like Istillio, the dwarf carried a thick strong accent of the north, making since because of most of the north being ruled by the race. In fact, the dwarven language was the most common language in all of the north, Istillio's native language.

With a proud, thrust of his hand forward, he took the assassin's hand into a strong grip and shook it tightly, welcoming Istillio to his shop.

The Troll

(To be done)