Mercenaries with any real skill were far and few between, but it didn't stop businesses from hiring them to stand around and intimidate anyone who might steal or swindle.
A'dalya watched a particularly large man saunter around the docks as if he owned them, from a safe distance near some crates and dry goods. Her whiskers twitched as her lips curled into a smile, human men had never been a match for her quick feline wit, especially ones with high ego but low knowledge of the city.
Nearby, her comrade D'rago was leaned against a chicken shed in old street clothes, fiddling with a pocketknife. She gave him the signal and started walking toward the fishmongers stall where the mercenary was now lazily leaned against a wood post.
Once she got closer and prepared to do a hustle, she saw an empty wine bottle on the ground at his feet. He smiled and blinked sleepily while staring off at the sea, it was as if they were meant to succeed and she didn't hesitate to go ahead and hop behind the empty stall where D'rago appeared at her side, lockpick in hand and going at the lock on the strongbox.
A'dalya put her ears back and peeked out from behind the counter to make sure nobody was coming, lunchtime can't last forever and this was the first opportunity to arise in a week. They couldn't fail.
The lock clicked open and hastily the coins and notes within were skimmed from the box and divided into their satchels, taking just enough to not be obvious until the funds were later counted. A glint caught her eye and she noticed a small silver band in the bottom of the box and without a second thought it was on her thumb.
"Quick,' she whispered, 'grab one of these burlaps! We may as well have our fish and eat it too!"
They each grabbed some of the fish from the stand but decided not to press their luck much harder and quickly made their way towards their previous spots. The mercenary was now slightly slumped but still standing, and A'dalya thought she heard a faint snore. She made it back to the crates to see the fishmonger sauntering back from the pub, completely unaware that he'd been robbed.
D'rago slipped off into the shadows of a building and into the city, probably keeping to the side paths. A'dalya adjusted her coin purse on her belt and walked confidently into the city, bag of fish in hand.
If you act like you own it, nobody will notice. That had always proved to be helpful over the years in her experience, hiding in plain sight was something she was getting better at all the time.
None of the guards ever took much notice of her, anyway. She was short, and lean, and while she didn't have any fear or remorse for being a thief, her voice was naturally soft and gentle like a light spring breeze. Nobody suspected a thing. She turned by the chapel and followed the path through it's garden of pastel flowers. Behind the chapel was a good chunk of the residential district, however she took a sharp left into the chapel alley, where an abandoned root cellar only held old forgotten tools and barrels, along with a small door to that linked the chapel to the city sewer system. She dipped in quietly and slid through the door like a rabbit into a hole and it was as if she were never there.
The smell of damp dirt had become a comforting thing over the past year, it was safe smell. You knew the authorities had no interest in being there, you knew the rich bastards couldn't look down on what they couldn't see, and you were free to be yourself. And as long as you were careful, you could even practice Majick down here.
The only issue was, you never knew who, or what, you might find one day.
She slunk along the old stone wall, pausing before a spiral staircase going deeper down to see if she could hear any monks in the basement of the chapel. It was amazing how much information they had to themselves, you could learn about the divine and your next heist in a matter of minutes just by listening at the right times. She heard only silence so she continued down the stairs and over a bridge where murky water filled a cistern. She came to an old but well kept gate, and slipped through locking it behind her. She came through the hall to the central hub of her home, where the ceilings were just tall enough and the room was large enough for the residents and visitors to be comfortable. She saw D'rago sitting by the cooking pit laughing with a few friends and roasting some of the fish on skewers. Others sat peppered around going about their business. A tall elf stood in the corner gently playing a stringed instrument while a few goblins played dice. Some mages sat around reading.
She walked down a hallway to a nook, covered in multicolored cloth that had been stitched into large, heavy drapes for privacy. She tossed them aside as she went in and put the fish on the small table by the hearth, but when she turned around she was met by orange eyes.
"Tsss...!' she hissed, 'Kat'ari, you stuck paw! Scare me to tears why don't you!"
Kat'ari laughed in such a way that hung in the air like dark red velvet and played with her gold medallion bearing to crescent moons of pearl in the inlay. "This is how you thank me for ending your dry spell? Hm? I will remember that next time I visit the city!" she said, even her eyes seemed to be laughing.
"That... was you?" A'dalya asked, realizing it was no coincidence they'd done so well so easily,
"Of course, grey one! What good am I coming around if I don't help old friends?" she said, seating herself on a stool and adjusting her long skirt over her crossed legs.
Kat'ari always showed up out of the blue like this, and sometimes it meant feast, but other times it meant famine. She was a bit of a loose cannon, even if she was family.
"How did you get back here anyway? How did no one see you?" A'dalya inquired,
Kat'ari waived her hand, jingling a number of gold bracelets, "I have my ways, of course. I've learned much since last time."
She always said that.
"Ah, well. At least let me offer you some of the spoils you helped us attain." A'dalya said, grabbing the fish and pulling an old pan off the wall. If it was going to be like any other visit, it would mean she definitely brought more wine than what she gave the mercenary.
She brought a lantern over while she lit the hearth, and Kat'ari hummed an old song as her eyes scanned all corners of A'dalya's living nook. she had a hammock in the corner and under it, a small crate most likely for personal items, a bedside table where the lantern usually sat, a short dresser, and a few short stacks of old books. Hardly compared to the good old days, when they lived back home. They weren't rich by any means, but things were definitely more comfortable. And no one was living in a sewer! Her eyes were drawn back to A'dalya where she caught a glimmer of light from the fire reflect off the band on her thumb.
"Is that..?" she started,
"It is.' A'dalya replied, 'The same one mother pawned before she died so that we could at least eat. He wouldn't trade for half of what it was worth, so I decided he didn't deserve to keep it."
"I had no idea that was the same man's stall from years ago. At least it's back in family hands." she said approvingly.
"Do you still like your fish undercooked?" A'dalya asked, trying to hide how proud she was for getting the ring back. Kat'ari nodded and took a plate.
A'dalya's ears twitched, "Come in D'rago, I have a visitor."