Post by Whizzlesprocket on Jun 17, 2012 19:06:18 GMT -5
The ship was moored at the docks. Abby hid behind the massive post they tied ships to, her height allowing her to stand with her back to it, watching the sailors leave. Skeleton crew still aboard...what had the lass said? Killing people was a no go, or okay? Oh, well. Less work if you didn't have to snap someone's neck on the way in. "Useless bloody coppers..." She eyed the guards suspiciously as she tested the rope that tied the boat to the docks, seeing if it seemed taut enough to comfortably get across.
((For Marlena to GM.))
T'all ya fine dandies, so proud, so cocksure, prancin' abowt wi' yer head ful'a the pink stuff...come an' get me, says I! I'll be waitin', wiv' a whiff'a me ol' brimstone! I'm a grim, bloody fable, with an unhappy bloody end!
The sun hadn't quite set on Wistvale, there was plenty of light, thought the shadows had grown and become darker. There were one or two Sentinel guards patrolling the docks in their shiny armor and vibrant purple cloaks, but they were busy grumbling and complaining about having to work such a shift and some of the petty crooks they had come across.
The ship was dark, except for a couple of lanterns hanging here and there, and devoid of life, at least that was how it seemed at this time, whether anyone was on board remained to be seen. Though if Marlena was true to her word, there would be one or two people at most. The thick rope held fast in Abby's hands as she pulled, there was no give with only the slight bob from the ship on the water.
Last Edit: Jun 17, 2012 19:23:14 GMT -5 by Marlena
Post by Whizzlesprocket on Jun 17, 2012 19:36:32 GMT -5
She would have preferred to go in at night, but they would be back in the ship before then. She took one of her daggers and held it between her teeth, hissing a stream of insults at the ship, her rotten luck for ending up in this town in the first place, and of course the 'windbag' as she clambered across the rope.
Reaching the ship quickly, she jumped over the railing and hit the deck in a roll, grabbing the dagger out of her mouth and flipping it back in her hand as she came up near the mast, flattening herself to it and scanning the ship for guards or lookouts. Most ships had some kind of hatch on the desk that goes into the storage area...or something. Water didn't agree with her, really, or she with it. Where was the Captain's quarters, usually? She thought under the spinning steering wheel thing, but wasn't sure. Maybe she should have asked someone before getting on this thing...
T'all ya fine dandies, so proud, so cocksure, prancin' abowt wi' yer head ful'a the pink stuff...come an' get me, says I! I'll be waitin', wiv' a whiff'a me ol' brimstone! I'm a grim, bloody fable, with an unhappy bloody end!
The ship seemed silent at first, but as she looked around the area the sounds of two, maybe three of the ship's crew drifted up from beneath her feet. A variety of barrels and coils of rope litter the deck, left there when the crew abandoned ship to find food and ale. There was a door below the higher level where the ship's wheel was, a small window beside it. The flickering light of candles can be seen, if anyone is in there, they can't be seen.
Post by Whizzlesprocket on Jun 18, 2012 9:40:53 GMT -5
Would the Captain have stayed behind to guard his most precious cargo? She hadn't the foggiest, but approached the window anyways. She tried to see if she could look in without anyone noticing her...and if any of the candles were in her reach. She might need a distraction, and in her experience there was nothing like a bonfire to distract people.
T'all ya fine dandies, so proud, so cocksure, prancin' abowt wi' yer head ful'a the pink stuff...come an' get me, says I! I'll be waitin', wiv' a whiff'a me ol' brimstone! I'm a grim, bloody fable, with an unhappy bloody end!
Shadows are beginning to take over as she moves across the deck, the sun setting slowly. The quarters are empty, though the window is open a few inches. The voices below deck were louder here though, they were laughing and oblivious to the intruder on the ship. There are four candles about the room that is filled with luxuries, fine fabrics, ornaments and many shiny items probably worth a pretty penny. One of the candles is below the window, most likely out of reach for short arms, the window not big enough for even the smallest of people to get through.
Post by Whizzlesprocket on Jun 18, 2012 12:11:03 GMT -5
She cursed and went to see if she could get inside through the door quietly. If nothing else, the room was full of shinies, so even if Marlena was mistaken and the drugs weren't in here, it would be worth it to see what she could get away with...and grab the flame, maybe. Might as well set something on fire on the way out.
T'all ya fine dandies, so proud, so cocksure, prancin' abowt wi' yer head ful'a the pink stuff...come an' get me, says I! I'll be waitin', wiv' a whiff'a me ol' brimstone! I'm a grim, bloody fable, with an unhappy bloody end!
The door, like the rest of the ship, only looked new. Where the owner was willing to spend his money on luxuries for himself, company and good food, his ship deserved only the occasional lick of paint. As such, the door opened easily with a firm tug. What lock was there had rusted and the wood rotten to the point where it served no real purpose except to cause people to think it was pointless to get in. The reputation of the man kept the crew in line enough.
Footsteps are heard, followed by shouts, and what sounds to be a barrel or table upturned. The crew that remain aboard the vessel are still very much preoccupied with each other. For now.
Post by Whizzlesprocket on Jun 18, 2012 23:23:13 GMT -5
Her hands rubbing together gleefully, she looked around for anything really worth stealing, using her Appraisal skill. (Oops, wrong game.) Jewelry or something small that would be hard to identify or prove was his...but obvious enough that he would see it gone. The theft was more about sending a message, and she was happy to be the messenger if it meant going home with pockets full of dosh.
The opium might be in here, too. Perhaps in a safe or some other locked place. Too bad she had to leave her lockpicking tools in the last town after that whole ogre thing. She shivered at the memory and kept looking, trying to keep her footfalls quiet. If it was indeed locked, she could come up with something.
T'all ya fine dandies, so proud, so cocksure, prancin' abowt wi' yer head ful'a the pink stuff...come an' get me, says I! I'll be waitin', wiv' a whiff'a me ol' brimstone! I'm a grim, bloody fable, with an unhappy bloody end!
The room is simple, despite all the pretty things to be found. A large bed draped in rather expensive looking blankets in a far corner, an ornate desk with stained wood chair. The man's extremely bright and obnoxious coat is laid over the chair, on the seat is one of the few things worth noting, a shiny dagger that looks as if it will fetch a few coins.
There are plenty of amusing figurines and ornaments dotted around, if it looked like money, it seemed to be here. Abby's light footsteps leave her undiscovered by now and her searching leads her to a pile of three crates, stacked by size in an otherwise empty corner.
Post by Whizzlesprocket on Jun 21, 2012 12:57:13 GMT -5
She swiped the dagger almost without thinking, pocketing the shiny blade. It looked too decorative to be actually useful, but if it were sharpened, it could go for a bit. The man's coat, hmm...she smirked to herself, grabbing the coat and seeing if it were possible to form some sort of bag with it by tying the sleeves together over the chest, and sticking the dagger through the neck like a pin. If that worked, she would busy herself collecting the ornaments and baubles, trying to clean the place out.
Regardless of her success with that, she would check out the crates, attempting to open the smallest one first. Hopefully that one had the opium, and it would be easier to destroy it on the way out. She didn't have the proper strength to carry both it and many goods, but she could probably work something out.
((That's good, right? I didn't want to assume it worked, so I left it open for GM to decide.))
T'all ya fine dandies, so proud, so cocksure, prancin' abowt wi' yer head ful'a the pink stuff...come an' get me, says I! I'll be waitin', wiv' a whiff'a me ol' brimstone! I'm a grim, bloody fable, with an unhappy bloody end!
The makeshift bag would hold, as long as it wasn't overloaded with too many trinkets, enough maybe to gain her a few gold pieces. As Abby moves through the room, the voices below deck become louder. Not because they are closer, but because they are shouting. Someone is upset, angry even. It seems the ruckus earlier was the precursor to a misunderstanding in whatever game they had been amusing themselves with.
The top crate opens easily and is nothing but a few nice looking books, maybe the others would hold the opium. Getting into them would take some quiet and speedy work though, footsteps were beginning to make their way up the deck.
(Awesome, and sorry for taking so long with the reply.)
Post by Whizzlesprocket on Jun 27, 2012 8:56:24 GMT -5
She was a greedy little blighter, but she was also interested in self-preservation...so she put only a few expensive-looking items in the bag shoved it under the bed. She could hide there if she absolutely had to. Hurrying a bit, still trying to keep quiet, she tried to pry open the lid of the next-largest one.
((No problem, I'm in and out meself. I'm just glad I'm writing.))
T'all ya fine dandies, so proud, so cocksure, prancin' abowt wi' yer head ful'a the pink stuff...come an' get me, says I! I'll be waitin', wiv' a whiff'a me ol' brimstone! I'm a grim, bloody fable, with an unhappy bloody end!
Voices are louder now, the sound of stumbling footsteps, shouts and punches connecting with their target give away the fact the crew have made their way to the deck. They are very much engrossed in their quarrel, three distinct voices, two hurling insults and grunts whilst the third shouts encouragement. Not so much of a problem, really. Except they are doing these in plain sight of the door Abby will leave by.
The crate opens rather easily and Abby is forced to catch the lid before it tumbles to the floor and creates too much noise and by the candle light, something shimmers beneath the straw. Upon moving the straw, a dozen midnight blue glass vials are found. The opium. Just one of these vials is worth plenty to the right buyer, a few would see someone set for a few months at least.
Post by Whizzlesprocket on Jul 4, 2012 9:31:56 GMT -5
She cursed to herself, a string of obscenities that might have made the sailors blush if they'd heard it. She gathered up the twelve vials and replaced the lid, and dove under the bed. She put the vials into her bag and slid as far back as she could, bracing herself against the wall with a dagger in one hand and a bomb in the other. She hoped that the captain wouldn't notice, or if he did that he would assume the thief was already gone.
T'all ya fine dandies, so proud, so cocksure, prancin' abowt wi' yer head ful'a the pink stuff...come an' get me, says I! I'll be waitin', wiv' a whiff'a me ol' brimstone! I'm a grim, bloody fable, with an unhappy bloody end!