InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Der flipperwurt!"

seda :: elven mercenary (utheriel) wrote in thebattleage,
@ 2011-05-18 22:44:00

Entry tags:

! incomplete, (backscene), declan gallagher, seda utheriel

One Jump Ahead of the Breadline
Who: Seda Utheriel, Declan Gallagher
Where: Amaranthine
When: 24 Umbralis, 9:37
Summary: A loaf of bread goes missing. A baker cries thief. Guardsman Declan Gallagher is on the case.
Rating: PG

The grumbling in her stomach had long since faded, giving way to an aching pain. The past few days of hunting had ended in nothing but failure and the cold had guaranteed there was little more to harvest than the few edible roots lurking beneath the earth. Roots, though, were not enough to carry an elf through the winter. The winter which had scarcely begun.

It was her second winter without the comfort of the clan to warm and provide for her and this one was much harsher than the last. The cold had come early, coating Amaranthine and the surrounding areas in frost. It seemed as if the sun was waiting out the winter, leaving nothing but grey skies in its absence. Grey skies and an abundance of rain Seda amended, shivering at the thought. The freezing rain which had only stopped pouring down the night prior was no more welcome than the snow that could have fallen in its place, even less so in fact. It had tirelessly found every crack in the ceiling of whatever shelter she found, leaving her damp and trembling. Even now her clothes had yet to dry, lying wet against her.

Huddling in on herself further the young elf tried to push herself further into the stone wall at her back, trying to soak up what heat she could. Hungry eyes peered out from beneath a wall of hair, focused on the warm glow of a bakery across the way. She had been trying to work up the courage to go in for the past hour. The bustle of people doing their morning shopping had died off and there was no longer and real reason keeping her from going in and getting something to eat.

Nothing but the fear of getting caught.

Letting out the breath she had been holding, watching as it coalesced in the frigid air, she pushed herself to her feet. Biting her lower lip, arms wrapped tightly around herself, she looked around cautiously before she slunk across the barren square to the bakery. Wearily pushing the door open she was met by a wall of heat and the welcoming smells of fresh bread. It was enough to make her mouth water, even as her cheeks flushed a rosy red from the sudden influx of warmth.

She could see the baker’s head poking out of the back room to look at her but she did her best to ignore him, trying her best to appear as a regular customer simply browsing what was currently on display. Which was what she was doing, so that wasn’t entirely faked, but there was no intention to pay for whatever she took with her. She would have had she the money but the people wandering the streets were just as rare as the animals in the wood. Hunting was poor everywhere.

The moment the last strand of hair disappeared back into the kitchen her arm darted forward, fingers curling around a sinfully delicious looking loaf of bread. Swiftly tucking it away she crept soundlessly back to the door, prying it open as quietly as she could manage. As the small bell rang overhead she cursed under her breath and slipped outside.

She had made it halfway across the marketplace, the warm bread still snuggly hidden under her outer tunic when the cry of thief rent the air in two behind her. Without bothering to turn she took off, feet sliding on rain slick cobblestone, and made to vanish into the surrounding alleyways.

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d_gallagher
2011-05-19 04:28 am UTC (link)

The patrol through the city in the middle of the day would seem like an easy one. And some days, it was. But not always, for during busy market times were when the most enterprising and intelligent of thieves would strike. And of course, the numbers seemed to double in winter, when the harsh environment and the lesser supply from the Chantry's soup kitchen made for starving beggars and the like. Declan couldn't say he blamed them. Who could blame a hungry child, after all?

Still, when the cry of thief went up from the bakery across the market, he could not shirk his duty. He looked to the baker in his doorway, a man in a flour-dusted apron pointing to a figure that disappeared down a darkened alley. Cursing beneath his breath, Dec gave chase. His armor was heavy, and made him awkward as he raced across the frost-slicked cobblestones. Of course, he had by now plenty of practice chasing down those with sticky fingers, and kept his balance as he turned the corner.

"Halt in the name of the Amaranthine guard!" he shouted to the tiny figure that was still racing off ahead of him. He followed her through narrow passageways, veering around a poor family that huddled together beneath the eaves of house, icicles clung overhead. His breath burst out in front of him like puffs of fog and his shield bounced against the metal of his armor. He did not draw his sword, aware from the slightness of the figure that this thief was likely a mere child and had stolen out of desperation. Still, that did not mean he or she could shirk the law and take what they pleased without consequence. The guard captain had repeated these words many times, but Dec was still not much closer to actually believing them.