Durendal. If there was a faint sense of familiarity in the name, it was all lost on Nuala; the thief held on to a crumpled piece of paper, reading it over and over until she had memorized its content. With a flick of her wrist, the contract was thrown into the fire and the flames sizzled as they burned the ink to ashes. Nuala rarely stole weapons – too high was the chance of a risky encounter, of a victim turning into a dangerous opponent. But the reward was sensational; someone was willing to pay a large sum of money for a sword that was neither guarded by monsters and spells, nor was it hidden deeply inside a tomb. Instead, it was owned by one person – a human. And he was here, in Crocus. Nuala’s cloaked frame was pressed into the shadows; the darkness swallowed her whole, concealing her body and putting a damper on her aura. When she moved, she moved with silence. Her amethyst eyes never lost their focus – and how could they? The human’s blade shimmered beautifully under the moonlight, its colour reminiscent of rivers of gold. Perhaps this, the very material it had been crafted from, explained its worth. Nuala had been told that he, the human, was not its wielder but rather a lucky adventurer who had come across Durendal (allegedly a precious family heirloom to her current client) during one of his travels. Nuala doubted this, but the blade had already caught her attention and the Voidling was intrigued by the mysterious energy it radiated. Durendal... For a moment her thoughts seemed to linger on that name. Had she heard of it before? The current owner himself was rather innocuous-looking. Nuala saw a human male in his early twenties, a little taller than her, but she doubted that he – as long as she kept the sword out of his hands – could prove much of a fight. Naturally, however, the Voidling knew better than to underestimate a stranger and so she prepared herself by skillfully tailing him until he returned to his chambers, which were a number of rooms he had rented in one of the larger inns in Crocus. By the graciousness of her client, Nuala was able to grant herself access to said chambers and familiarize herself with the outlines while the young man had been strolling about. The entrance room was small and provided a few pieces of furniture. It lead to a separated bedroom which, in turn, led to a bathroom. There was a small space dedicated to the wardrobe close to the entrance door, which cut the bedroom out of its direct line of sight. If she wanted to be bold, Nuala could make her way through the only door available without being caught, provided that he left his sword somewhere near the wardrobe and excused himself to either the living space or his private chambers. From Nuala’s personal experience, however, those who wielded weapons rarely left them out of reach, ever. This complicated things. Her best chance was to sneak inside and wait until the human had fallen asleep before she made her move and went on her merry way. She could hear him, but he couldn’t hear her. Nuala re-considered this plan many times, but after hours of following him around town, the woman had noticed a sort of restlessness about him that she couldn’t quite place. He didn’t seem like someone who slept. At all. Now, that didn’t make much sense and Nuala assumed that her client, if he wanted this as badly as he said he did, would have told her about potential dangers in order to increase her chance of success. And because of this, Nuala waited. She waited and listened until the sounds coming from inside his room had fallen silent. The lock was picked in just a few seconds and the door didn’t creak, because she had oiled its hinges the afternoon before. Swiftly, and with a rogue’s grace, the female thief had slithered inside. The lights were off, but Nuala had no trouble seeing. She peaked around the corner and saw the bedroom door not entirely closed, with Durendal placed upon the round living room table. Nuala tumbled forward and quickly reached for the sword; it ended up being much heavier than anticipated and once she made notice of this, her glowing eyes shot up towards the bedroom door – which hadn’t moved an inch. A long sword was a two-handed weapon and the weight decreased not only his nimbleness, but also hers significantly. As Nuala moved the blade quietly and with utmost care, her glance fell upon the ancient runes adorning the metal. The Voidling was far from ancient herself, nor was she a scholar, but she understood enough of this world's magic to recognize it when she saw it and despite herself, the blood in Nuala’s veins began to freeze. It’s enchanted! It’s an enchanted weapon– That fact not only increased the worth of the sword, but also shifted it entirely from its material to whatever magic it possessed. Furthermore, Nuala no longer doubted that the human was also its rightful owner – if you couldn’t wield it to its full power, there was no point in keeping it, especially considering that they sold for large amounts of money. She had been deceived after all. |
Last edited by Nuala on Fri Jan 17, 2020 1:13 pm; edited 1 time in total