Thread: Stolen Bones [Alakazam & Grungeknuckle]

They musty, stale air of the air of the cellar made her cringe, but she continued, determined to continue. She hadnt encounter any traps so far which concerned her. There could possibly be nothing of worth in the basement, and she was just placing herself in an area with no easy escape. The idea of that worried her more than anything. But when she finally made it down into the depths she was glad to see her risk was worth it. Necromancy, she breathed out, astonished and delighted at the night of the mans workshop. The bones were a dead giveaway, and the whole place had the feel and dread and death. Perfect, she said noticing the urn. Clearly it had worth. She decided to grab the other things of value before she grabbed the urn, wanting to be careful with it once she had retrieved it, especially because of its potential danger. The elf was not gifted with magic but from the looks of it it held great power. Even if she was not proficient in magic she could sense the energy rolling off of it. The woman worked quickly, judging what was worth her time and what wasnt as fast as she could. The chest full of herbs was promising, and she grabbed which ones she deemed rarer, not bothering to be to careful with her examinations. Now that she knew who this man really was she definitely didnt want to get caught in his lab. An herbologist she could handle. A necromancer was much more dangerous. Once she had found all that she deemed worthy she turned to the urn in the center of the room. Stepping over the barriers placed around it she silently wondered if she should be concerned about what the urn held, but the prospect of wealth was too tempting. Plus she would get rid of it quickly. The sooner it was out of her hands the better. After another moment of hesitation she grabbed the urn and stepped out of the circles, taking care to not to disturb anything, just in case. Now holding the urn she felt as if she could feel the misery of whatever was inside. Shaking her head she hurried out of the cellar and then back out the upper story of the house. Not wanting to waste anytime she brought the urn and herbs to her buyer. He seemed delighted with the urn, why she did not ask, not really wanting to know. It was easier when you asked less questions. Ariaurried back to her own home. It was small, but looked lived in. She had a point to always make her homes look like home, so that people would not expect her having a profession that usually made where she lived temporary. She immediately put the rest of what she had taken in a chest that would make magically tracing the items impossible. Breathing a sigh of relief she shed herself of her weapons, putting them away, and then she changed out of the soft leather armor and black hood and pants she wore when out. The woman was tired, she had not gotten sleep the night before as she had been busy watching the necromancers house and waiting for an opportunity to strike. She put on a tunic and breeches that looked more appropriate for a young woman to be wearing, much different from the clothes of a thief. But under the clothes tattoos ran over her body, all meant to make her quieter, luckier, and deadlier when need be. The marks of her profession. Feeling fairly confident that he would not track her she laid down in her bed, letting sleep overcome her. But despite her confidence she still fell asleep with a knife under her pillow and her bow and arrow by her bedside table. She was nothing but careful.