Lockwren left her home at nineteen, with nothing but her quarterstaff and the blessing of her mother and her best friend. Her mother gave it to her in the form of a beautiful earpiece, curled silver with ivy leaves made to reach up into her white hair. Zanael gave her one of his guitar picks, a little worn out yet was the perfect ornament for her staff.

They were so melodramatic about her leaving, it was almost embarrassing.

Maybe she should never have left them at all.

The world outside her town quickly became a worrying place. She didn't take long to learn that a mix of looks and deception could get her far. While some people offered to pay to spend rather intimate time with her, she refused to stoop to that level. Instead, she learned to lie, and used her ability to change shape to trick people into getting exactly what she wanted - money, information and the odd gift.

That year, she spent most of her time alone, and life had not been gentle - she quickly learned that kindness wasn't the answer.

Zanael had warned her.

Through the information she learned, she finally found her way to a big town - nothing short of a city. Lockwren had heard that a rich trader often found himself in the Elves Flight tavern, and was one to enjoy gambling.

He was sure to be a very interesting victim.

The man was easily noticeable - he had a guard with him, too much gold and what she was told was his signature, the regrettable tattoo of a monocle around his eye. He was clad in a yellow suit threaded with gold - a truly offensive clash with his skin tone. There was a pair of dice on the table, and a young man sitting in a chair across from him. The latter had clearly lost a game, picked up his dice and left, while the trader placed some gold coins into his coin purse.

Lockwren took on the appearance of someone she crossed in the street - shorter, brown curly hair, blue eyes and freckles.

"Is this place taken, sir?" Lockwren inquired, holding up her own set of dice. "We can play Sevens? I got these for my birthday, I want to see if they’re lucky! My mother said she got them blessed by the moon!"

The man smiled with too big, too-yellow teeth, and invited her to sit. "What are we playing for, beautiful?"

Lockwren inwardly cringed, but smiled through it, giggling like a school girl. "Your choice! 10 gold, or information about planar travel."

The man considered. "You don’t seem like someone with such priorities. Win first, gorgeous, then we'll talk."

Lockwren shrugged and rolled her dice.

She wasn't surprised to see the 7. She had almost lost a hand stealing those loaded dice.

The man grunted, took the dice and rolled them. A simple 4.

The two kept rolling dice for some time, exchanging pleasantries, until Lockwren noticed a shadow behind the man. The shadow - a young man with dark hair and an impish smile, put a finger to his lips, urging her to be quiet, as he cut the coin purse from the man's side.

He winked at Lockwren and silently found his way outside.

It was at this moment where the man noticed something. "Hey, hey these dice are loaded! Guards!"

Lockwren picked up her dice and ran out of the tavern, guards on her tail. She quickly took on her usual appearance in a moment where she was pushing through a crowd. Looking back, they seemed to have lost her.

Exhaling, Lockwren turned into an alleyway, where she found herself face to face with the thief from the tavern.

Both of them reached for weapons.

She pointed to his chest.

He pointed to her head.

They were at a draw.

The thief grinned and held his hands up. “You got me, beautiful. I watched you work, you aren’t half bad. We could get far if we work together. My name is Julian DeVaire. At your service”. He bowed. 

“What are you talking about? That wasn’t me.” 

“Oh please, I saw you change. Nice little trick you have there, must be fun.” 

“Get up.” Lockwren snapped.

“Ooh lady’s got teeth -”


“Talk to me like that and you won’t anymore.”


The thief - Julian - laughed. “You underestimate me madam, as I do you. May I suggest we get going though, before the guards find us?” He had stepped out of the shadows - his skin looked like he spent much time in the sun, and he had a white streak in his dark hair. His eyes were a cobalt blue and he had a small scar running from his cheekbone to the base of his slightly pointed ears. A half-elf.

“Why should I trust you?”

“The question is, why not? You’re no better than I am, little con artist, and I don’t know about you but I really don’t want to go to jail quite yet.” he said with an easy grin.

Lockwren started considering the matter when she heard the guards yell instructions for their capture nearby. “Ugh, fine, lead the way.” 

Julian winked. “Try to keep up” he chided before running into the city crowd.