Topic: Homecoming Preparations

Rhae

Date: 2010-12-22 04:38 EST
The staggering cold in the middle of a winter Rhydin night was enough to keep someone inside. Each crystalline flake that fluttered from above rested silently in its place. Each shop railing had a delicate sloping of snow several inches high. Cobble stones slick with ice and gritty snow while the sidewalks were inches deep in crisp pristine snow. There wasn't so much as a foot print in the newly fallen snow and it blanketed the entire place in a sobering way of vast flawlessness. Every star danced bright against the pallet of snow, and the moonlight reflected off of it made the middle of the night seem like late afternoon. When someone said a winter wonderland they were talking about this very place.

Perhaps it was the cold, or the fact that it was so early in hours of Wednesday morning but there wasn't a single person wandering about in the east end of the marketplace. Rhae had been born in RhyDin's center, and her parents still owned the flat there above the Blacksmith's shop, luckily for both Phinn and the young rogue in training though, her parents had opted to buy a bigger home when her brother Wyatt was born and found a secluded spot behind the expanse of shops, warehouses and taverns. The house was tucked right on the outskirts of the Marketplace, close enough that everything was accessible yet still far enough away that they could have the privacy needed for their particular type of research.

Outwardly, the house was simple, what one would expect to see around RhyDin, a large brownstone with grey shutters, a black iron wrought fence and large mahogany doors. The gate in the ten foot high, iron fence may give someone the idea that there were things inside that needed to not be found. It stood a full foot higher than the rest of the fence and was ominously chained shut with a thick length of iron chain. Its bars were constructed of thick lengths of woven iron, intertwining and winding around each others to make a very tight lattice pattern. No hole in the gate was more than a single inch wide making scaling it impossible to those without a child's hand and a keen sense of wall walking. There was a set of massive ?M's worked into the intricate design of the gate and what one could have assumed was a family crest. Rhae had never mentioned the family being well off, but with this type of security it was impossible to think otherwise. The lock was rather intricate, as it contained over a dozen tumblers and if a single was mishandled the whole process of unlocking it would be damned from the start. The gate itself was the only piece of the fence that wasn't covered in a privacy granting expanse of ivy and so the only apparent decent look at the house would have to come from peering through that gate. The ominously looming fence surrounded the entirety of the grounds without a single noticeable break. The ivy so thoroughly overgrown it was impossible to tell much of what went on under its tight grip. Beneath the ivy, the rods in that fence were several inches thick and solid iron, no expense had been spared in building it.

Rhae

Date: 2010-12-22 04:39 EST
The house itself was not in the least bit ominous, set several hundred feet back from the gate, a path wound itself from the gate to the front steps. The path was lined with hedges, two feet high and even though covered in several inches of virgin snow, they were clearly well kept. Behind the hedges lay a wondrous expanse of gardens. In the springtime, wild flowers would permeate the air with a plethora of floral scents, but on this night ice clung to the branches of what had once been flowers. The only apparent spark of life in the gardens were the winter roses that crept up the arbors that opened a path into the gardens about half way between the gate and the house.

They were the reason for the only break in the hedges and the intricately laid flagstone walkway veered both ways to wind its way through the gardens. The path leading to the left wound in a curve around a massive marble fountain dead center in the garden, it lay dormant and silent in the winter months but all summer long it gurgled out a gentle tune for any and all who passed. The path to the right wound through the entire garden and came to its end at the corner of the garden farthest right and closest to the road. A rock garden, Rhae's only little piece of serenity when she was allowed to leave her home during youth, was carefully sculpted around a koi pond. A waterfall had been constructed by layering thick pieces of slate one atop of another in a rugged sort of step. No water ran here either in the dead of winter and the koi slept under a thick sheet of ice, their lily pads suspended in the frozen prison. The pond was shaded by a carefully sculpted red maple, trained over another, much larger arbor. There was a massive slate of rock resting on two short pillars of stone in a sort of makeshift bench, nestled under the arbor and in just a place, that when perched upon it one could watch the fish swim. This was where the young woman had stolen away to when things became too much for her.

The flagstone path was well laid and completely level as it came to rest at the foot of the front steps. The stairs were wide at their base, lined with wrought iron railings, and then narrowed as each step was taken until they were the width of the mahogany doors. The doors were solid wood, thick and heavy, but very well constructed. They opened in, the handles next to each other halfway up the center line the doors made when closed. The handles and embellishments were also that intricate iron latticework, pressing the notion that the doors were constructed of much more than just the wood. To the right of the door was a massive bow window, three different segments were used to form it, but the type of windows would be unseen. The shutters were pulled tightly shut and no doubt locked from the inside, as they simply always were.

Rhae

Date: 2010-12-22 04:39 EST
On either side of the house there were several large windows, but unlike the front of the house the windows were not only covered with the grey shutters but also lined with iron bars. The bars bowed just enough to let the shutters open, but were fastened tightly directly above and directly below the windows. Encasing the entire window with an inescapable cage of iron, giving the place the look of a prison more so than a home.

The portion of the house out back was complete with a balcony, stretching out past the master bedroom on the third floor. The very place the young woman had gotten herself in so much trouble drinking up as much sunlight as she could before being caught and forced to write lines. It was the only way that one would be able to get into the house without being detected, because it was the only place where there was a simple lock. A drain pipe carefully placed far enough away from the balcony to make the jump an impressive feat. Unless of course the jumper was extremely long in the leg, or supremely agile. There was no backyard, at least not one that would be conducive to a home that catered to two children. A patio laid in more flagstone rested beneath the balcony and housed a tea table and chairs. There were no children's things anywhere to be seen. It would be staggering to believe that there had ever been children there at all and perhaps that was because someone wanted to keep it just that way.

Mockingbird

Date: 2010-12-22 10:35 EST
Phinn had allowed the space between the inn to widen just long enough to envelop them both in shadows before removing his mask and regaining his real height and appearance, two inches taller than the rogue most usually saw and weapons glinting dangerously in the faint starlight. He finally turned to Rhae and gave her a real hello in the form of a long kiss, "I've been wanting to do that since you walked in, Dove." He spoke quietly, not just because he didn't want any unseen ears to hear him speak so to her, but also because it seemed a night for such softness. The acoustics of the street were muffled by the snow, and he saw fit to do the same. "I was going to teach you how to walk softly on a hard surface, but it appears the snow is doing that job for us for now. It will have to wait." There was a certain air about him on this night that she wouldn't have noticed before, slinking movements, perked ears, and stealthy mannerisms that only showed themselves when he was on a job, whether it be simply casing a house or something darker. In fact, his boots did not even produce the familiar light crunch that came with walking through snow, though if she thought about it, she would realize that was the effect of his boots she had witnessed weeks ago before fleeing from the alley back to the comfort of the inn.

The pair pressed on through the marketplace, Phinn flitting from shadow to shadow, his inky black outer cloak blending with them, so if a casual glance were taken, it would appear that a lone young girl was strolling through the small hours of the morning. His fingers itched to be holding weapons as he held himself on the edge of readiness, a knife edge he walked with precision and care after decades of situations like this, though they were yet to reach their destination. That usual too wide grin was still there, and if anything seemed even more pronounced, for every part of Phinn knew this was what he had been made for. The better part of his thirty eight years had been spent in situations like these or worse, and it showed in the way he moved, silent and invisible, only showing himself occasionally so Rhae would know she was not alone. For every foot she covered, he covered three, doubling back across their path and then roaming forward, with an eye and ear out to be sure their way was clear and unobserved. Some would see this as overly cautious, but the road map of scars running from Phinn's hands down to his feet told him there was no such thing. One never knew what might lurk in the next dark corner, and that was especially true in Rhy'din, he had learned. He would take every care on this journey in particular, considering his precious company.

Mockingbird

Date: 2010-12-22 10:36 EST
When Rhae stopped in front of the huge, foreboding gates, Phinn seemed to materialize out of thin air a few feet away from her, meaning to ask her in a whisper why she had stopped. The look on her face, however, told him they had reached their destination, and with that Phinn turned back to the wall with a look of awe, briefly wondering what else besides their goal could be sneaked out of a place so obviously well to do. He passed her a look conveying his surprise that this was the house of her youth, as nothing about it spoke of children, and he suddenly realized why she had probably been so eager to fly from this place at a young age. Her free spirit had been a large part of what had drawn him closer to her, and allowed him to open up to her as he had, and there was a flash of anger toward her unknown parents for trying to hide a light like hers in a place like this. Such personal feelings were swallowed as quickly as they arrived, for he knew there was a job to do this night. His business and his way home depended on finding a way through these leafy walls to the research within. He studied what he could see through the gate carefully, squinted grays taking in every detail between empty fountain and imposing door, shuttered windows and frozen pond. That gaze rested a little too heavily when it alighted on winter roses, their sight sending hot coals through his veins before he could school himself once again to calmness.

He shrugged off his outer cloak, revealing his much lighter gray, and handed it to her along with a motion she should wrap it around herself. It would make her less conspicuous than the dark gray one he had given her on a day that seemed long ago now. He then gestured that they should make a circuit of the gates, before the magic of his own gray cloak made him fade into the shadows even better than he could manage by himself. All that could be seen of him as he padded along was a shining Cheshire cat smile, but he allowed the enchantment on his boots to fade so she could follow the soft footsteps in front of her. Slim, nimble fingers danced their way through ivy and iron, poking here and prodding there, feeling for a loose rod or a missing one, and eventually struck paydirt. From studying the layout through the gate, he knew the koi pond would be on the other side of this fence, and filed this pertinent information away while continuing their round of the property. He wanted to relay his elation at this discovery to his partner in crime, but did not want to risk the added noise. He made a mental note to teach Rhae the thieves sign language he had learned as a boy. Their path then brought them to the back of the property, where the small man's neck craned upwards, noting the drainpipe that was just close enough to the balcony to make such a leap feasible, and as they continued their way back to the front of the house, a plan had already formed in his mind.

Mockingbird

Date: 2010-12-22 10:36 EST
Getting into the house would prove to be possible after showing Rhae how to keep quiet while on the move, as long as there were no guards or servants, and luckily there appeared to be none out and about at such an hour. His mind was making a list of what he might need when they reached the starting point of their circuit, and he mouthed 'wait' to her before making his way rapidly back around their course, moving backwards and brushing over their tracks with snow. No need to let anyone get suspicious of footsteps if they could easily be erased.

Once finished, he took his outer cloak back from the girl, for any longer in just his light cloak and he felt he would freeze. He struck out back through the empty streets, keeping to those dark places he felt so at home in, and trusting Rhae knew it was time to head back to the loft. He made the journey home in the same fashion as his way to the house they had cased, drifting far ahead before retracing his steps behind again. Once they were in streets far from her parents, a deep chuckle escaped from his lips. It appeared, for now, that it might just be possible after all for him to make his way home and start raking in the gold that came with a thriving import export business. But for Phinn, it wasn't really about the money. Whether thieving or selling, to him it was all a game, and those glimmering coins were merely the way to keep score. What really mattered to since finding Rhae was that he now had a partner in his ventures, whether they be love, crime, or business.

Mockingbird

Date: 2010-12-28 06:02 EST
After Almathia's harrowing, at least for Phinn, coming of age ritual for Rhae, the couple had headed back to the loft, with Phinn guiding her most of the way as the effects of the venom used during the ritual had yet to wear off completely. By the time they had climbed the three floors up to their abode, however, Rhae seemed to be herself again. Much to Phinn's relief, as there had been a couple close calls this evening while she had been drugged. He loved her more than he had ever thought possible, but that love had to stay a secret, and drugged Rhae had a tendency to blurt things out in public that had to stay hidden. Luckily on that particular Christmas night, the inn's patrons had been too busy with their own holiday dealing to noticed the young woman's multiple slip ups.

They exchanged a gift each, Phinn receiving a new cloak that he knew would be put to immediate use, and Rhae receiving a set of thief's tools and throwing knives, before she placed one final brightly wrapped box in his lap. If he had wondered why she was gone for some several hours, the contents of the box would hold his explanation. "It's nothing like your gifts....Not even close, but I am sure that you will find it very useful." He regretfully removed his arm from around her waist, and began unwrapping the final package of the night. He removed the cover of the box to see the contents were a sketch pad, and she shifted her hand into his lap to lift the top of the book up and lay it against the top wall of the box. The first page was a sketch, a birds eye view of the grounds of her parents' house. Every detail was thought of, and even if the art wasn't anything to speak of, she had brought attention to every detail and flaw. The missing bar in the fence was highlighted, also the place were the drain pipe was close to the balcony. She flipped again, and it was the first floor of the house. Each room was numbered, and every detail was paid due attention, even so much as which doors had locks, and which way they swung. The third page was the second floor, again the rooms all numbered. Fourth page was third floor, and then came dozens of pages, each one corresponding to a room number. The furniture was placed in these sketches, window placement and what they were used for and how often. "This is the house the exact way I left it. The only problem is?" She flipped to the third to last page of the book. It was a room, the shape outlined and the windows were where they were supposed to be. A lock on the door and it swung inwards, but she knew nothing else. "That's their study, and I don't know what is inside."

Mockingbird

Date: 2010-12-28 06:05 EST
When he first looked at the sketchbook in his lap, he was a bit confused, though he did his best not to show it. Confusion wasn't something most wanted to see on the face of a gift recipient. Luckily, he was not confused for long, and as she flipped the pages she would have seen his nose begin to twitch, and fingers slightly tremble. When she reached the part of the book filled with details of every room, he understood how not only how much time this would have taken, but also how many memories might have had to been relived to fill these pages so specifically. "With this book, I can know the house as well as you do before I even step inside!" And within a week he would, with his eidetic memory working overtime. "I never really got a chance to thank you for taking me there, so let me thank you for that as well as this book." He embraced her tightly as he continued, "I know how badly you wanted to escape that place, and it means the world to me you are willing to go through all this to help me get home. You're simply amazing." He let her go, lips brushing her cheek as he sat back up straight. "As for the study," he replied in a somewhat mocking tone, "What fun is an adventure without a little unpredictability?"

Rhae nodded gently as she listened to him. The point was that neither go in there blind, and no matter how much she could chatter about the horrid place she really didn't need the guilt of knowing her pain would prove pain to him as well. A sigh as she looked him over carefully, searching his face as if trying to figure out the best way to say what she needed to without coming across as untrusting. There wasn't a single person in the world she trusted more than Phinn. He was a piece of herself and so she chose her words so with an amount of tact reserved for just this occasion. "Unpredictability in that place...Could prove worse than fatal for me. I wholeheartedly trust you won't let anyone keep me there." That said she sunk happily against him and reached up to tangle fingers through his hair gently. "As for my escape and my willingness to return, you mean more to me than the fear of that prison."

Phinn had understood the meaning behind her words that Christmas night, and had spent much time as he was now, hunched over the sketchbook, memorizing page after page of floor layouts, his mind working through contingency after contingency. Rhae trusted him to get them both in and out of her childhood hell, and he would not fail her. The few friends Phinn had so far in RhyDin were probably wondering where the thief had been since the holiday, perhaps even thinking the little rat had finally ended up on the wrong end of a back alley deal. But the truth was that most of his time was being devoted to making sure he knew that house as well as its previous prisoner. The locked, metal banded chest that he had been so eager to fill since his arrival was all but forgotten over these long hours of flipping pages, the more important priority was getting the research out of that house, as all the money in the world wasn't going to get Phinn home.

Mockingbird

Date: 2010-12-28 06:06 EST
He continuously checked and double checked every detail of the plan forming in his head, though none of it was written down. The experienced rogue knew that the only thing leaving a paper trail would do is give credence to any story a victim might have about his clandestine acquisitions. He had prepared for countless situations such as this, and all of the information, all the maps, routes, exits, all of it was neatly filed away in that busy little head. As he looked over all the details again, he was putting together a list of what he planned on bringing with him. Usually he would have to worry about how heavy his gear would be, and Rhae would know why. She had held the cloak his usually work, almost dropping it from the weight. But her other gift to him had been a marvelous cloak that caused anything secreted away in its pockets and folds to become weightless, and that would allow them to have everything they might need on hand.

With that list in his thoughts, he went about making what preparations he could. His deadly adder's sting was carefully wiped clean of the neurotoxin that usually covered it, and was replaced by the venom Almalthia had so generously given him, a venom that wouldn't kill, just paralyze its victim and cause them to hallucinate. Phinn wouldn't hesitate to kill someone on this job if necessary, especially with his lover in tow, but when stealing he liked to avoid doing more than disabling his enemies. He wanted their valuables, not their lives, and to him it seemed almost unsporting to not allow them to live to guard their belongings for another day. The adder's sting was put back in its pouch, and then inside a pocket in the new cloak that Phinn had outfitted with mithral rings, the same rings he had ripped out from his old cloak. Into another pocket went the faerie dust Rhae had collected, for its healing properties worked quickly, if painfully, and a little pain was a small price to pay to be on the go quickly after taking a wound that would usually floor someone.

Various other bits and pieces ended up in that new cloak as well. Lock picks, caltrops, a small hand crossbow of drow design, and of course plenty of knives. When all the equipment he felt he would need was in place, he wrapped the cloak around his small frame, marveling at how it was no heavier than when he started. He had worn a cloak weighted down by the tools of his trade for years, and this sudden, distinct weight change would make him lighter on his feet during the job than he had ever thought possible. He would have to practice beforehand to get used to it, but that was fine, as Rhae still had a long way to go before he would feel comfortable taking her along on more than just reconnaissance.

Mockingbird

Date: 2010-12-28 06:07 EST
Phinn shut the sketchbook then, and shut his steel grays along with it. The dim light of the loft wasn't made for reading intricate details, even for someone like him with excellent night vision. The book was set on the side of the matters before he flopped down onto it himself, giving his brain and eyes a chance to rest before going over the next floor plan. After a few moments, he opened his eyes again, his gaze coming to rest on the wolf pelt wrapped gift Almalthia had given him. A 'miracle' she had called it, and it truly seemed to be. That large, polished barnacle had the ability to grant the owner any wish, as long as it didn't interfere with another's free will. How easy it would be, he thought, to just use it to go home. Or just wish that his business was already up and running. But he couldn't, as that felt too much like wasting something precious. How would he feel if he used the miracle to start up his business, and then something happened to Rhae and he had no way to save her" The weight of the miracle's responsibility was much heavier than even its actual heaviness. He would save it for a last resort, he knew. That was the logical thing to do with a thing that held so much potential. And besides, he thought with a smirk, what would be the fun in wishing everything he wanted into existence" He had always found that half the fun of getting anywhere in life was the feeling of accomplishment that he managed to do it, that he won and his opponents lost. And surely the miracle would make such successes lose some of their luster. He shook his head of these thoughts and ended his break, reopening the sketchbook to the next floor plan. The light in the loft was dim, but if anyone on the street had paid attention, they would see it was on all night.