Blaise walked through the streets of Blair Sheen, carrying a rucksack he was sure was filled with stolen goods. Those thugs near the Channel Bridge were definitely lurking about, trying to find somewhere to hide out before they were caught. They were too guilty, so Blaise put them out of their misery and thumped them both on the head with a catch pole that he found lying around. Then he'd taken their bags...and their weapons.

Sometimes Blaise forgot how ineffective fighting could be when you couldn't use discs. The Neurean race had such little disc capacities that it was rather useless the carry them around—they couldn't store more than one at a time--or use them in combat. Of course, the Neureans wouldn't want to fight anyway—they left that to the the humans. Or, the Swordfellows, as they called their army and guard-services.

Shah Neurn was one of the great nations of the world. The Neureans were craftsmen and art-lovers, who liked to sit around all day and let others to their work for them. Just as it was stereotypical of humans to be obedient and low disc capacities, it was stereotypical of the Neureans to be lazy and snooty. The only thing was, Blaise knew for a fact that all Neureans were lazy and snooty-- but humans were not all obedient by default. Humans didn't have low disc capacities either--that label was intricately crafted to shape the thoughts of those in service so that they would be less tempted to question their authority or start a rebellion. Blaise might have the only person alive to actually know this, which was quite unfortunate.

That was why Blaise had avoided this part of the world for most of his life. Sure, there was plenty of stuff worth stealing here...but it simply wasn't worth his time. It had been almost two hundred years since he set foot in this city, and frankly, he wasn't upset that he hadn't visited more often. It was smelly, and everyone was rude. Additionally, the prices were all higher here. Things were different since the last time he'd been here, yes, but luckily technology tended to progress slow. The world today was stale and stagnant--everyone was waiting around for someone else to fix their problems. It needed...change.

Blaise trudged along the dark road, looking down at his feet. It was best to keep his face hidden, even if he was wearing all-black robes that covered his entire body. That way, passerby would think him to be just another Rvyni, and not a human. If someone noticed his face, they might put him in shackles or call the Swordfellows...and then put him in shackles. So, to avoid any of that business, he decided to remain a simple, humble Rvyni, who wished to mind his own business tonight and wear a hood.

He was prepared though. After leaving that cave in Rvyn, he had gone straight west, where he knew he had another stash of discs hidden. Over the centuries, he had made it a habit to carefully place stockpiles of stolen goods in caves around the world, just in case he needed to grab some discs on the fly. After he had located the correct hoard and selected a few suitable discs, he went out to the local blacksmith and had a brand-new disc belt made. This time, with triple the protection--layers of steel, chromium, and tungsten, instead of solid iron. The blacksmith hadn't even questioned him when Blaise handed him an outrageous sum of money. Blaise wanted to be sure that the box was made one-hundred percent puncture-proof this time, and have it done within the day. All of these 'extras' were the reason why the price had become so steep, and fortunately for him, money was never hard to come by when you had plenty of stuff to pawn off.

For instance, today.

Blaise took a sharp left and glanced up for a moment. Ghrenwick Pawn. That shop had been there for generations, all run by the Ghrenwick family. It wasn't a high-end shop, just a simple vine-coated stone building in the poorer district of the city—perfect for selling these stolen nick-knacks.

Blaise pulled down his hood even further. Because both hands were being used at the moment, he kicked open the shop's wooden door in one fluid motion. The midnight wind flared the tail end of his cloak as he marched in, and he did not even need to alert the startled shopkeeper of his presence. He carefully slammed the squeaky door shut behind him, causing near-silence to return to the room. Blaise loved dramatic entrances.

The shopkeeper was a stout little black-haired Neurean man, who just stared at Blaise as if he was the specter of death itself. Probably, he had never seen a fully-cloaked Rvyni before. Blaise assumed that they didn't often wander into this part of the city, considering that the Rvyni respected cleanliness with a heated passion. Oh well. This man would never know—he looked too afraid to ask questions.

Without saying a word, Blaise emptied the contents of the rucksack onto the counter, careful to not let the many goodies fall off of the edges. The thieves that he had busted had a surprisingly good eye for valuable items—among the many things that fell onto the counter was a pair of silk gloves, a vial of klait-wintergreen serum, and even a genuine silver pocket watch. One thing, however, caught Blaise's eye.

Peeking out from the pile was a rather-strange looking knife hilt. Blaise removed it from the other objects and studied it with keen eyes. The knife's blade appeared ordinary, but the hilt was made of bone—human bone. Not only that, but it was carved with the images of wolves all jumbled together and sneering, as if they were trying to claw their way on top of each other. The detail of the carvings was exquisite. He slipped the knife into one of the oversized pockets in his robe and returned his attention to the the shopkeeper.

"How much?" Blaise asked, trying to make his voice sound as deep as possible, which wasn't hard considering that he was currently sporting his 20-year-old body.

The shopkeeper frowned, inspecting each item. The poor man probably already knew by now that these items had been stolen, and probably suspected Blaise as the thief. Blaise took from the thieves, making the action ultimately positive, so there was really so fault there.

"Two-thousand." the shopkeeper said.

That was much lower than Blaise had anticipated, but it would have to suffice. All he needed was enough to buy a couple horses and a wagon, and the extra money would just weigh him down. Besides, once he was on his way out of the city he could just steal what he needed. "Fine. I will take it all in pennies then."

The shopkeeper looked up at him with weary eyes. Are you kidding me? He seemed to say.

Blaise grinned, though he wasn't sure the other man could see it. "Yes. I'm kidding. I'll take the money in any form you got." Humor wasn't appreciated in these parts then. Such a pity.

When the shopkeeper finished stowing away his newly-acquired stolen goods. Blaise received a fat sack brimming with silver and gold pieces, and he left immediately. Time to buy that wagon. Time to find the Heir.

Back out on the street, Blaise noticed that a dense fog had rolled in off of the the Channel and filled practically every nook and cranny in this part of the city. That was very unfortunate...how would he find what he was looking for now? This the was largest city in the world—at least if you counted together the Shah Neurean half and the Rvni half which lied just on the other side of the Channel—and the best way to navigate it was to get to a high place, preferably on a rooftop. Night was the best time because during the day, people actually cared that you were up on the roofs...meaning that they would take notice of and call for the Swordfellows.

He would have to find his sources by other means, which including asking around. It would be risky, but worthwhile. There was an Eternity Disc hidden somewhere in this city, and if you knew who to ask and about what to ask, then you could find it fairly quickly.

Thadan had not been very specific as to when he should return—only that he do it quickly. Besides his little field-trip to get the new disc box, it had taken him two weeks to reach Blair Sheen, which was much faster than any normal journeyer or horse-drawn carriage could have possibly hoped to travel. Long ago, he had discovered that using high-jump discs and grappling off of trees was by far the most efficient way to get from place to place. But still, he had to find this Heir and return as fast as possible. He couldn't keep using the grappling method on the way back to Rains Shadow—he'd have to use a plain old wagon to transport the Heir, which would not be very time-effective. Blaise didn't like Thadan or Purlip, and if any of them got impatient and decided to bind to the Indelina before he got there...they would be nearly unstoppable. He could not let that happen. The Indelina was his.

Blaise found a dark alleyway and shifted into his nimble, 13-year-old self. A cloud of bats began circling overhead. Then, after adjusting the length of his clothes, he started running off into the night.