Stealing The Sun

Category:Facet
Category:Stories
Category:SkunkWerks
Category:Gray_Tiger_Tong
Category:Grey_Tiger_Tong
The thief had been calculating, cold, and precise. Most of all, he'd been well-prepared. Looking at the room, one would hardly have noted that any larceny had taken place. Everything was still in order, nothing upturned, nothing broken, nothing out of place. He knew precisely what he wanted. The only indication that anything was amiss was a single open drawer in an ill-regarded armoire- and this was only open because the inspector had opened it himself, to observe the absence of something crucial to the scene...
The Baron had been vain, true enough. He dressed his wife in fineries, put her on display. And when his wife tired of a thing he troubled to put it on display elsewhere in the estate to assure his hard-spent resources did not go to waste. He'd had the necklace placed in a leaded glass case in a side chamber of the estate's master ballroom, ad when he entertained guests he was keen to show them a sampling of one of the greatest gifts he'd bestowed so graciously on his beloved wife. 
It was a beautiful piece, the necklace. Studded with a great many precious and semi-precious gems, any one of which was worth a serf's life savings. But the crowning stone- the one that outshined the rest- was an iridescent fire opal. A fluke of nature, and yet stunning in it's perfection, the gem had a shifting radiant core- perhaps only a consequence of how the light was refracted among it's various facets, but beautiful to behold nonetheless. Having the stone cut alone cost a king's ransom. The stone was not set in the necklace in the traditional way, either. Instead the setting was an englamored one, ensuring that the gem could not be separated from it's housing.
And here, in the midst of all this, stood a proud but troubled figure of a woman. She fretted and furrowed her brow as she watched the inspector go about his business. 
"Are you quite done yet Inspector General?"
The ruddy-haired Sin'dorei exhaled a near-inaudible sigh of frustration, "Your Ladyship, these are delicate matters, and while I certainly respect your right to be present to..." he chose his next words with care, "observe, I would really rather prefer that you wait in some other area of the estate. There is contamination of the scene to be considered here-"
She cut him off, "You have a job to do, Inspector, and I'm quite sure you are good at it, else you would not be here," she crossed her arms for emphasis, "I am also sure that you are quite capable of working around me. What do you have to report thus far?"
The Baroness' husband had been vain, true enough, but he wasn't entirely a fool, "The decoy the Baron had deployed in the adjunct master ballroom is untouched," he rubbed his temple in thought- a desperate attempt to wrap his mind around all the variables, "our man knew what he wanted, and he knew it wasn't here..." he paused, wincing visibly as he asked, "Are you quite sure my Lordship has no enemies?"
"What silly sort of amateur question is that, Inspector? Of course he has enemies- he's a Baron." she frowned, darting the inspector a disgusted glance, "And the sentry?"
"Disabled," he replied flatly, "I would dearly love to tell my Ladyship how, but engineering is not my area of expertise, we're having a Goblin chap in forensics look it over, so far he has nothing to offer save that it just stopped working".
"Well what good are you then inspector?" and with that sentiment she stormed out in a huff.
Just as well, thought Inspector General Haldenai, she was definately contaminating my concentration if not the scene...
== ♠ ♠ 2 ♠ ♠ ==
A jet-maned young Sin'dorei leaned against the doorway to the Silvermoon City Inn on the Murder Row side. Sharp emerald eyes pierced the gloom of the darkened alley and a finely wrought neckerchief was drawn up over his mouth and finely sculpted nose. Locks dark as pitch spill from the crown of his head, obscuring the rest of his features. He glances at the other man, his only company, in the dark alley... his only visible company, at any rate. Sane men don't lurk here after dark... probably precisely because sane men didn't lurk there after dark.
The young elf idly pondered whether or not the other man would recognize him, or at least attempt to ascertain his identity, then thought better of it. Drunkards seldom got curious unless it had the scent of their next dram on it, and this chap had clearly had a few too many.
He raised the small roll of parchment to his lips and inhaled gingerly, the scent of the bloodthistle filling his nose, tickling his pallete. The tendrils of fragrant smoke relaxed him, and made his senses sharper. He gave over a moment to thinking about his mark. Terrible shame really, such a lovely and lonely woman. Her husband away on diplomatic business and her left all alone. What sort of scoundrel would take advantage of such a fine and proud flower of a woman?
"I would," he murmured to himself, and to his captive audience- inebriated and unconscious. A sly self-satisfied smirk spread across concealed lips.
He fingered the necklace, safely tucked into a small velvet pouch inside a satchel at his side. It would fetch a pretty shiny fee, considering what small trials and tribulations he had put himself through in acquiring it. Now if only his prospective buyer would arrive he could get on to the real business at hand: fencing it for the highest price possible. He nudged the drunk with his boot wistfully, "that's going to be one fel of a hangover old bean..."
He'd gone through three more delicately rolled pipettes of the thistle and nearly an entire book of matches with the Silvermoon City Inn branded upon them when he finally heard the click-clack of approaching footsteps on cobble, he put the last one out and straightened his mask. He glanced through the gloam of the alley, spying the gaunt form, the pained steps. In any circle of circumstance other than this, it might even be called a shamble, of sorts... 
He was used to it. So many of them in the city nowadays. They skulked in all sorts of corners, though surprisingly enough, had the wisdom to stay out of this particular one. The customer was hooded and be-cowled- had decided to do him one better apparently, no matter, he was used to this as well. Let them play at cloak-and-dagger if they like... if it makes them feel better. 
The shadow approached, and with an oddly high-pitched rasp asked a simple question, "Do you have it?"
"What sort of master thief would I be if I didn't?" the waif of a Sin'dorei lad retorted.
The other figure scoffed visibly, but said nothing.
"The real question is," the brigand said, smiling now not so much with his mouth as with his eyes, "do you have it?"
"No," the other replied bluntly.
"Oh? Well now that is a bit of a traipse now isn't it?" mocked the dark-haired Sin'dorei.
"You don't know the half of it," answered the shade, casting off her hood and cowl and glaring at the ne'er-do-well before her.
The knave in him fought to suppress another broad smirk, "Your Ladyship... what an unexpected surprise!"
== ♠ ♠ 3 ♠ ♠ ==
"Quite," the Baroness answered, "I hope you weren't expecting a ransom because I didn't bring any."
He splayed his hands to his chest in a mockery of hurt feelings,"Now that would put a kink in things," he rubbed his chin in thought, "then again I should probably say it does you credit, Love. Not bringing all that coin with you into a dark alleyway like this, filled with all sorts of dangerous sorts of people," he glanced at the vagrant soon to be nursing a hangover on the opposing side of the doorway, "so what's it to be then? An I.O.U., eh?"
"How did you break into my house?" she asked bluntly.
"Oh come now," he chided, "I could teach a babe how to pick a lock... it's not trepanation, you know. Nor are your locks on your doors the most complicated I've encountered. Now the decoy, that was clever-"
"How did you know it was an illusion?"
"Miss, you say that as if we all can't smell the ebb and flow of mana as a shark does a drop of blood in an entire ocean," it was a good bluff, artful, and to the point. It hid all the things he wanted to stay hidden...
She grilled him further, "And the Sentry?"
"A wondrous folk, those Gnomes, eh? Always building things better, faster, stronger. Always trying to surpass themselves," he expounded, "Now I ask myself, 'what self-respecting Gnome can't out-do himself?'" and on cue he produced a small fob- a remote about half the size of his open palm, "You'd be surprised, your Ladyship, what a thus-inclined craftsman with surprisingly little other motivation is willing to do if you grease his palm with a modest sum, savvy?"
She frowned at this, and began to ask another question before the villain cut her off.
"Really Love, if you should ever want to learn the trade, I'd be more than willing to have an apprentice," again the smirk spread on his lips, "but first it's best to get any nasty business between us out of the way, don't you think? And since you've been asking all the questions till now I think it best to end these trifles with one of my own: how did you find me?"
Now it was her turn to smirk, "After all your tricks and clever sleight-of-hand, it was your habits that betrayed you, rapscallion," she held in her open hand a partially spent matchbook, bearing the well-worn 'Silvermoon City Inn' lettering on it, "My gardener found it, in the verdage outside the East-facing windows."
He glanced at it for a long moment, swallowing a bit hard, then regaining his composure, "Now I suppose that was a might clumsy of me now wasn't it?" he admonished himself weakly.
She smiled ever-wider, delighting in watching him squirm.
== ♠ ♠ 4 ♠ ♠ ==
"I'm afraid you've pinched me then, Love," he said with a resigned breath, "only... I don't see any guards at your side, so I'm left wondering just what was your plan after confronting the guttersnipe what stole your pretty, pretty jewels, eh?" he asked smugly, "So unless you've got an Arcane Guardian and an entire royal guard detachment squirreled away underneath that lovely, but deucedly uncomfortable-looking corset, I'm sorry to inform you that you're working this deal all crabbed, darling."
"For someone so seemingly capable of thinking on his feet you seem awfully confounded at deciphering the details," she scoffed lightly, "or are you just playing coy with me?"
"Perish the thought, Love," came the thief's invariable reply, "but just this once, maybe you could trouble to bring a poor lad up to speed, you know, spell it out for him," he crossed his arms, "Cause you see, after all these years of seeing and speaking and hearing no evil, I'm afraid my ears are fair-to-buggered, Missy".
"If I look like I am ill-equipped to bring you to justice," she put a long fingernail wistfully upon her lower lip, "then it must be because I don't mean to bring you to justice... not you, at any rate," and with this she strode a few steps closer to him.
He could have recoiled, but didn't, and despite the fact that he very well knew that feminine wiles were well in play during this maneuver. He'd long since decided she wasn't armed... at least not with anything likely to pose a threat to him. And as far as magic was concerned, his reflexes were good enough to redirect any spell she might conjure to his advantage.
"I want you to do something for me..." she said, softly.
"Oh?" asked the roguish slip of a Sin'dorei, "And just what would that be, darling?"
"I need a spy," she said as she drew that same finger that had rested on her pouting lips a moment earlier across his jawline, "someone, limber, agile... flexible," she ran her hand along his shoulder for emphasis, "someone who knows how not to be seen."
"So that's why this little chit-chat of ours was sounding so much like a job interview earlier?" he said through a grin, "Well just what is it that I'll be agile, flexible and most importantly, unseen for, Love?"
"As you may or may not know," she explained with pretension in her voice, "you didn't just steal some bauble from some neuvo riche slag with an honorary title she got on a smile and a nod."
He decided to stoke the flames of her ego some more, "Certainly not, your Ladyship."
"My husband is a very powerful man," she went on, "thirteen generations of our family have had the ear of the King himself, then his Regent, dating all the way back to Azshara herself," she paused for an effect her audience was more than obliged to grant her, "it was quite bold, or perhaps quite foolish for you to take something from a family such as my own."
"You'll have to pardon me if I only give a few moments over to my good senses, Love, I've got a whole lot to do on a day to day basis," he jibed her in a somewhat good-natured way, "and on that note, could we perhaps get to the point, your Ladyship?"
== ♠ ♠ 5 ♠ ♠ ==
She glared at him darkly for a moment, then continued, "He is currently on a... diplomatic excursion to Shattrah City. He seeks to peddle aid to the Scryers and thus curry some favor for his own agendas here in Silvermoon," she said the words in a near-spit, the disgust dripping from every syllable.
"Sorry, darling, I'm no politician, and my ambitions are sadly limited to more tangible goods," on came the smirking grin again, "it's a weakness, I know."
"You don't need to be a powerbroker to understand what I'm about to tell you," she hissed, "I know that while he bandies favors from those much-vaunted saviors of our people he is also tending to a more base and animal vice."
"You mean a Mistress, Love?" he asked, a genuine air of naivety injected into the phrase- he could learn a thing or two from friends, after all.
"No, I mean his appetite for Alterac Danishes," she retorted, "Of course I mean a mistress!"
"No need to shout, Love," and he once again gestured to the unconscious vagrant, their only company in the alleyway behind the Silvermoon City Inn, "people are trying to sleep. And anyway, what do you want me to do about it? Cause I'll tell you right now, assassinations are pricey, and rarely ever worth it for either party involved."
"Oh I don't want you to kill anyone, dear..." her tone went from banshee to siren in a Silvermoon second, "it's just that I'd noted your considerable skill and fitness with Gnomish mechanical wizardry," her tones were honeyed and warm now, she glanced at him with that 'come hither' look, "and it just so happens that I have another piece of clever gadgetry to employ in your latest 'caper'", she brought out a small contrivance from her bosom. Slightly smaller than the remote fob he'd shown her earlier.
"And what is that, your Ladyship?"
"Its inventor calls it by some name that has twenty or more syllables, none of which tell you or I a thing about what it's for," she mocked, "all you need to know is that it captures images without the aid of a brush or canvas, apparently by using the very light that reflects off of things to form the image."
Facet had already read ahead in the prospectus, "You want me to catch them in the act?"
"Yes," she replied toneless, wooden.
"And then I'm to bring you back the evidence of said hanky-panky?"
"Yes," she repeated.
He rubbed at his chin, "Well I just don't know..."
"What do you mean, 'you don't know'?" she asked expectantly.
"See the lads back at the shop--" 
She'd cut him off with a mocking scoff, "The lads at the shop?"
== ♠ ♠ 6 ♠ ♠ ==
"What?" he asked, "Are there marbles in my mouth?"
"I knew you didn't get this far alone." she turned her head to the slide, and slightly upwards, that proud aura of superiority surrounded her instantly, clothing her in threads of arrogance.
His emerald eyes flashed with a spark of anger, it was the only real emotion he would betray during the entire exchange, he pushed it down, having feelings wasn't an advantage in his business, after all. "As you say, Missy. But yes, the lads round the campfire might have a sort of... reservation about all this."
"Oh?" she perked her ears, "am I to be paying for your entire team now?"
"After a fashion, yes," he answered, "but you see Love, those lads of mine, they've got no use for a ruined, ~ahem~ Diplomat."
"Ahhhh!" she said with a devious smile, "you now seek to curry your own favors. Well, rest assured, there will be no damage done to that prospect by my husband's disgrace."
"Married up in the world, did he, Love?"
She said nothing in response, but nodded, "You and your 'lads' would of course have my eternal gratitude in all matters henceforth."
"I see..." he mused again, his fingers rubbing at his chin, "and I suppose that you'll be wanting your... dignity back out of all this?" he turned his palm over, revealing the Opal to the Baroness, still radiant in it's setting.
She looked at it for a moment, seeming to consider, and then coldly answered, "No."
"No?" he repeated, "well you are doing me and the lads a rather large favor after all, it's the least an upstanding gent like myself could do in return..."
"Keep it," she said, "if you fence it for a tidy sum, consider it a down payment on a job not yet well-done, and consider it incentive to ensure that the outcome matches my faith in you."
"I most certainly shall, your Ladyship," he bowed before her somewhat theatrically, "shall I expect you to contact me with further details?"
"Yes, I will return here three days hence and provide you with further instructions," her expression went ice cold again, "remember who you're dealing with, thief."
He smiled broadly "My memory still works even if my ears are a bit bent, Love," and with that he watched her recede into the gloom of the alleyway, her footsteps shrinking into the distance. He glanced again at the drunkard, and then chuckled softly to himself as he turned the priceless gem over in his hand, "fel hath no fury..." he mumbled.
Category:Shades_of_Grey