"Beasley!" A young halfling woman, somewhere in her late teens runs through the city streets. She pants as she runs as fast as her small legs can carry her. Her long robes twist between her legs, making it very hard to keep up with her friend. "By Dallah, Beasley, please slow down!"
“R.C., you need to learn how to run if you want to keep up with me!” A slightly older halfling man bobbed and weaved through the market square foot traffic. Although he was in his early twenties he looked like another child running through the marketplace. He turned around to look back, but never lost a beat as he ran backwards.
“That’s not fair! You aren’t wearing robes like I am, you cheater.” R.C. tried to keep an eye on her friend but he moved through the jungle of human legs faster than a deer in the woods. And then he disappeared from view. R.C. slowed her pace as she stopped to catch her breath. “I will never be able to catch up with him.” She panted for air. “Dallah, I sure wish I will be able to have his speed and stamina one day.” Without warning a pair of tiny hands reached and covered her eyes and lips.
“Come with me.” A hushed but deep voice spoke into her ear.
“I haven’t done anything.” Her mind raced in the dark as she stiffened. “I am a priestess of Yondalla, how dare you treat a woman of the cloth this way. I demand to know my captor!”
“You are…” the voice changed into a more familiar tone. “So funny!” The hands dropped from her face, R.C. spun around to look at Beasley as they stood in a back alley. She looked at the young halfling man before her, dressed in deep red leathers. His body should rattle or jingle with all the hooks, rings, poles, sticks and other equipment that hung off his body. “A true cat burglar,” She thought to herself.
“You had better get ready if you are going to help me out, Priestess.” Beasley laughed at the mention of her evangelical class.
“You really want me out of my clothes quickly don’t you?” R.C. gave him a coy smile as she started to remove her robe.
“Well you can’t very well break into the jeweler in those robes.” Beasley just shot her an odd look. “Besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen you before. We grew up together, our mothers used to bathe us in the same river at the same time.”
R.C’s expression just faded as she pulled the black skintight leather shirt on and turned around and lifted up her auburn hair. “Can you tie me up, Beasley?”
Beasley turned from his lookout point at the opening of the alley and looked back to R.C. standing there with her back to him; her bare back was exposed in the twilight. Beasley quickly laced up the thin leather straps up the back of her corset-type shirt. Her outfit too had the hooks, rings and other accoutrements for a cat burglar. She also pulled a few collapsible poles from her robe that she had neatly folded and placed in a dark corner. She turned to Beasley, with her white robes now discarded for a black leather outfit, she looked almost devious rather than pious and priestly. With poles in hand she looked like an eager child waiting for directions. “What’s next?” R.C. chirped with excitement.
“Easy there, Ms. Ryan-Cassidy.” Beasley only called her by her full name when he meant business. She knew she had better listen intently. He pulled a thin rope and a collapsible hook similar to a three pronged fishing hook from a small pouch near his knee on the outside of his right leg. He coiled it neatly on the ground near his foot as he stepped on one end. He set up the hook and launched it up to the roof of an adjacent building.
“Can I ask why we are breaking into the bakery when the jeweler is across the street?” R.C. questioned the logic of Beasley’s choice of entry points.
He just rolled his eyes in the twilight. “We are breaking into the jeweler. It is just easier to not be spotted if we enter via the road and a rope from the bakery. Now quiet!”
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