Among Greyports many districts and neighborhoods, the Glamor district was one that few of the peasantry ever saw. A gated community for those whose pockets rested heavy with gold, hard earned or otherwise. The roads were white stone, and the homes larger than any shop or building in the port slums.
Of the many different homes that lined the white road, crowded by jovial nobles celebrating the Dragon festival, there stood a tall home, designed by human hands to mimic the soft curves of high elven architecture. The home was larger than most, its vast garden separated from the roads by large stone walls, and its tall balconies just barely visible from the street.
Anyone who was paying attention to the large manor would have seen it, a shadowed movement in one of the circular third floor windows. Yet no eyes were on the manor, instead focused on the few stands that lined the main road, selling jewelry and only the finest wine. None would notice that, despite the manors residents being out and among the festivities, the home was not empty.
Likewise, no one noticed as a figure emerged onto one of the balconies, and a young half elven woman with dark skin descended a thin hempen rope towards the garden. Elrah landed onto the well trimmed grass with little noise, the white hood to her cloak pulled over her head. She gave the rope a yank, watching as with a slight shimmer, the rope vanished into nothingness.
In the fifteen years since Elrahs childhood home was decimated by dragonfire, Elrah had grown. She was taller than most, muscular with broad shoulders, her curly black hair cut short and half shaved. Most notable however was a long curving scar that marked her face, old and faded. Aside from her white cloak, blending into the pale surrounding areas, Elrah wore dark leather armor, scuffed and torn in places from years of use.
She kept low, not quite crouching, yet not standing at her full height as she scanned the surrounding areas. Her deep brown eyes were cold and calculating as she paused, looking towards the front gates first. She could still see many of the nobles wandering and talking amongst themselves, but could not see the hermit who owned the home she had just emerged from.
Her face stayed in that cold wary look, yet internally she couldn't help but smile. On her hip, beside an old, partly broken blade sat a small pouch, holding three small pieces of jewelry. A golden necklace, an emerald decorated ring, and a white diamond earring. Each of the treasures thrummed with magic, old and powerful. They would be worth a fortune to anyone with an eye for magic. Unfortunately for the man who Elrah had just stolen it from, he did not have that eye, tossing magical artifacts in with common jewelry.
She turned towards the wall closest to her, tall stone nearly double her height. She almost scoffed as she slowly approached it, making no real haste. She gently pressed against one of the stones that made up the wall, finding it stuck firmly in place. She reached for the next, testing its stability before she began to haul herself up. She climbed with a practiced ease, moving up the wall and over within moments, leaving none the wiser.
Elrah landed on hard stone, back to the wall she had climbed. The alleyway she had landed in was thin, only a few feet wider than Elrah. It was uncomfortable, yet she already knew the second stop in her escape route would be worse. She sighed as she took a few steps further from the busy road, hoping that the few boxes piled up near the entrance to the alleyway would keep any prying eyes from her.
Elrah moved towards a small grate, embedded in a small dip in the alley. The smell was already putrid just standing outside, causing her nose to scrunch as she tried to breath as little as possible. She crouched down next to it, fiddling with a small latch at the base of it for a few moments before at last it released. It fell inwards immediately with a heavy metal creak, wafting more of the rancid smell of the sewers up into Elrahs nose.
She grumbled for a moment, before she leapt down. Her boots thud against the wet mix of moss, mold and cobble as she came to rest at the edge of the brown river, flowing quickly under the streets of Greyport. It was dark, the only light that which made it through the small hatch above, the grate still swinging slowly.
“That was quick.” A voice echoed through the darkness.
Elrah turned on her heel, hand already on the hilt of her blade and ready for a fight. She came face to face with a familiar face, pale blue eyes decorating fair skin like gemstones. Her long brown hair was tied in a high ponytail, cascading down the black shoulder pieces of her simple leather armor, the hood pulled down. She stood with a light smirk, bottle raised to her lips as she stood, leaning against the wall of the sewer.
Elrah paused for a moment, before she released a sigh, straightening her back and releasing her blade. “What are you doing here Myn?” She asked, leveling a cold gaze upon the woman, only a few years older than Elrah.
“At the moment?” Myn gave a smirk as she raised the bottle she was nursing. “Drinking.”
Elrah glared for a moment, before she shook her head in annoyance. She reached up, slamming the grate shut with a thud, before she turned and began to make her way down the sewer. As much as she may have enjoyed Mynins company, she knew better than to trust a coworker when she was already on a job.
“Oh come on Ghost!” Myn called, rushing to step up. Elrah sighed, glancing back at her.
She held respect for the woman, Myn, while not much older, had been working as a professional thief for much longer than Elrah. She was also one of the few who used her real name instead of a nickname, not to mention the fact that at the moment, she was running in heeled boots.
“Sorry sorry.” Myn grinned as she slowed to a halt. “I was bored. The tavern’s crowded and I wanted something to do.” She explained quickly, giving a shrug as she raised the bottle to her lips.
“How did you know I was here?” Elrah asked disbelievingly as she crossed her arms, leaning on her back foot. There was not a lack of affection in her tone, Elrah had known Myn for years, and while she had been almost insufferable when Elrah had first met her, now she was one of the few among their co-workers that she could tolerate.
“You mentioned you had work to do today, I may or may not have followed you.” Myn rambled, avoiding eye contact, instead opting to stare up at the ceiling as she sipped at her drink. Elrah sighed, shaking her head and moving to lean against the wall, and instantly regretting it as she felt the dampness beginning to eat through her white cloak.
“How can you drink anything with the smell down here?” Elrah asked suddenly as Myn moved to lean next to her. Myn paused for a moment, gently tapping the glass.
“I got kicked in the head by a donkey when I was little.” She responded suddenly, in a tone that made Elrah unsure on whether or not she was joking. “Ever since it's a fifty-fifty on whether I can smell something every day.” She grinned, tilting her head slightly as she looked towards Elrah. Elrah met her gaze for just a moment, almost getting lost in those beautiful blue eyes before she tore her attention away, staring awkwardly up at the ceiling.
“Isn't that just another one of your stories?” Elrah chuckled as she reached up, clutching the back of her neck. While Myn had few visible scars, she often told a myriad of tales about everything she did. From things ranging in simplicity to a donkey, to fighting off a mob of soldiers. Elrah suspected there were few truths among them.
“Bah! Life needs some stories! Most scars are boring.” Myn huffed, her eyes staring intently at Elrahs face. “Like your scar! That's gotta have an interesting story.” She added. Elrah gave a heavy huff. She had never spent much time around Myn, just the two of them. She realized now that while Myn was fascinating when in a more crowded environment, she was also very talkative alone. Elrah was sure she minded that.
“Tell you what.” Elrah sighed, the corners of her lips curling into a small smile as she reached out, motioning for Myn to pass her the bottle, which she did. “You tell me about your ear, I’ll tell you about my scar.” She shrugged, eyes falling to one of Myns ears, the entire helix torn, leaving mostly ragged scar tissue. The smile dropped for a moment, but only a moment before Myn crossed her arms, leaning back on her heel.
“My my, the ever quiet and elusive Ghost, wanting to know about little ol me. I'm touched.” Myn smiled, giving Elrah a side glance that almost made Elrah cough, inhaling some of the very sharp liquor into her lungs.
For the moment, Elrah was glad her hood was still up, as she felt the warmth on her ears, only imagining how red they must have been. Elrah would never really admit it, but over the years, respect may have turned into admiration.
“Well, hate to say it, but only the dead know that story, and you're much too cute to be joining em!” Myn gave a wink, stepping forward and beginning to make her way down the rest of the alleyway. The colour of Elrahs ears quickly spread to her cheeks, as she suddenly and quickly averted eye contact, chugging some of the whiskey still in the bottle.
“W-well! I have to agree with you there.” Elrah stuttered, stepping forward and beginning to quickly walk alongside Myn, before walking past her. The laughter that Myn emitted was almost enchanting enough for Elrah to stop and look back at her once more, despite the embarrassment.
“Ha! So a blackbird can blush!” Myn chuckled as she followed quickly. “It's a long walk back to the tavern, but I think this is gonna be fun.” She added, the teasing smirk she was wearing audible.
Elrah took a sharp inhale, hiding the smile she couldn't help creep onto her face. This was going to be interesting.
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