Lockwren left her home at nineteen, with nothing but her quarterstaff and the blessings of her mother and her best friend.

Her mother gave it to her in the form of a beautiful earpiece, made of curled silver, branching into ivy leaves that reached up into her white hair. Zanael gave her one of his guitar picks; it was a little worn out, yet made for 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.

Lockwren traveled alone for a year. Life had not been gentle - it too little time for her to learn that kindness wasn't often the answer to her hardships.

Zanael had warned her.

Through the information she gained, she finally found her way into a big town, one unlike she had ever seen. She was easily let in, unlike the crowds of elves and drow and tieflings that waited outside the city gates, among other people. she supposed she looked human enough for the city of Holn.

Lockwren had heard that a rich trader often found himself in the Elves Flight tavern in the 'outer' part of the city, and was one to enjoy gambling.

He was sure to be a very lucrative target.

The man was easily noticeable - he had a guard with him, a tacky amount of gold jewlery and wore an suit; yellow 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.

"It is too easy to take the gold of those who need it most - they are going to do the most desperate plays, that are almost always lost."

Lockwren felt the discomfort she had grown accustomed to since she had left home. Nonetheless, she took on the appearance of someone she crossed in the street - shorter, brown curly hair, darker skin and golden eyes.

"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 rolled her eyes, 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. Planar travel? Hm... I can tell you something about that. 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.


F*ck, why did he have to be handsome?

It was at this moment where the conman 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. Those who had seen her change were just as startled by the sudden chase as they were by the magic.

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. His blue eyes pierced into her violet ones as his lips twiched into a grin.


"Hey, you."

Both of them reached for weapons.

She held a dagger to his stomach.

He held a dart to her neck.

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, his fluffy black hair falling in front of his eyes. 

“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? They may not recognize you, but me, well, I'm sure you've noticed how effortlessly handsome I am.” 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.

She had heard that they were unappreciated in the city. A mix of human and elven, not quite fitting into any of the cultures they were born into.

“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. "I could leave on my own, but I know everyone around here. You're from the outside, and you'll get lost in a minute."

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.