They were standing across the road from the book shop, trying to seem as unassuming as possible. Their attempt was rather pointless though, since he was dressed as a wizard and they stood with a donkey. Still, the unsuspecting shopkeeper inside hadn't come to the windows to see them, and that's all they cared about. Murphy chewed his lip nervously, thinking over their plan for the heist. Since Oats was so eager to help, he actually spent a moment to try and come up with something. Originally, he intended to kick in the door casting wild magic in such a chaotic fashion, that the old man would be too distracted to notice the backpack disappear.
The plan they settled on was suggested by Sausage, according to Oats at least. Murphy wasn't sure if the man was crazy or not, but he considered that he might need to learn to speak donkey after all. The idea was relatively simple. Oats would enter the shop under the guise of being a student of magic, and request to see the related texts. After the bag is brought out, Murphy would run in wearing the disguising aspect and grab the backpack for a wild sprint out the door. Once he had the bag in his possession, he would meet Sausage in a nearby nook behind a building and dump the books into one of the animals bags and attempt to flee any pursuing guards. Given that the strange man and his donkey didn't know of Uundah’s existence, his role in the ordeal would remain a secret one.
"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Uundah asked cautiously. "I don't know if this is a good idea."
"It's a terrible idea" Murphy thought back. "But I promised myself I'd get back all that bastard took from me."
"As long as you know it's a bad idea."
"So I'm asking for a book on lions?" Oats asked excitedly. The man was almost uncomfortably on board.
"Daions" Murphy corrected. "If you can't remember that, just ask for books on magic."
"I won't look like much of a wizard if I'm so vague."
"That's a good point" he sighed. He'd considered the fact that his rag wearing companion might not come across as the educated type. He couldn't dress the man in his wolfish cloak either, since the shopkeeper would certainly recognise the garb. Begrudgingly, he took his satchel from under his cloak and gave it to Oats to wear. "If he gets curious, show him some of this stuff."
"I can't take your bag sir. What if I lose something?" Oats said nervously.
"You won't. Because if you do, I'll have you replace it". He twisted his staff to emphasise. He didn’t feel right intimidating the man that was helping him, but the events that led him to needing to retrieve his books in the first place, had him feeling trust-avert. The paranoia gave him an idea. He fixed Oats with a serious look, and called his medallion to his hand. Since the innkeeper had shown him that trick, he didn’t find it necessary to keep track of the thing. Oats noticed the medal, and followed suit. "I need you to swear something to me" he said, looking his strange companion in the eyes.
"So long as it won't harm me or Sausage" Oats replied with a hint of apprehension.
"Swear to me you won't betray this plan, and you won't betray me" Murphy said seriously.
Oats looked surprised. "Oh I can swear that easy sir. Won't have no sneaking from us."
"On the medallions honour" Murphy demanded.
Oats held his medallion out in front of himself. "I swear it on the honour of my medal, that I wish only to aid you on your mission."
Murphy nodded, satisfied. "And I swear on my own that I mean you no ill will."
That prompted an awkward silence, so they proceeded to put their medallions away. Oats slung the bag onto his shoulder, and had a peek inside. His face registered confusion at the contents, but he eventually nodded to himself, seemingly satisfied with his understanding.
"Are you ready then?" Murphy asked, looking between Sausage and Oats.
Sausage preformed a gesture that could only be considered a bow, and gave his master one final honk before trotting away to his position. Oats took a deep breath, and smiled. "Time to go and ask about some lions" he said, before turning on his heel and walking across the street.
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"Did he just say lions again?" Uundah asked nervously.
"I'm sure it'll be fine" Murphy assured him, not convinced by his own words.
His place on the street afforded him a good view of the shops interior, so he was keeping keen track of the shopkeepers movements. His concerns about the donkey man's acting weren't unfounded. At one point Oats could be seen displaying the potions that Murphy was keeping in his satchel, and the shopkeeper seemed entirely uninterested. It wasn’t until the man pulled the blue crystal eye from its pocket, that the old man seemed to start his reciprocation. He walked Oats past a few shelves and pointed out books, but to the man's credit, he seemed to remember the shelving held no targets. He was surprised at how smoothly things were moving, until he saw two hooded men enter the shop. His stomach dropped, the addition of more customers would surely complicate things he thought. Though when he noticed the glow of aspect from one of the men's sleeves, he knew things were about to get messy. Hidden at the wrist, was a dagger glowing with some form of containment. He sent the thought to Uundah, and received a foreboding anxiety as a response.
"That doesn’t look good" Uundah warned.
Continuing to watch, he noticed the shopkeeper look at the men and nod. Oats was currently pretending to read the back page of a book, so he didn't notice the subtle exchange. One of the men stayed standing by the door, and the other slowly made his way through the isles and towards the unsuspecting Oats. "That's interesting" he thought to Uundah.
"Indeed. Should we do something?" Uundah responded.
He was about to suggest waiting it out, rather than letting paranoia overwhelm them. Though as he was forming the thought, the shop windows started to tint. A wash of some kind of aspect drifted over the glass, and a deep and reflective orange overcame the transparency. "We should" he said, already drenching himself in the illusion aspect he'd taken to calling 'Ugly Aspect'. He empowered the covering and sprinted across the street. He could still see the silhouette of the man at the door through the tint, so he launched a flying kick into the wood, sending the door swinging violently inwards. The bulky man stumbled to his hands and knees, then Murphy came crashing into him, flattening him to the floor. He jumped to his feet, ensuring a solid stomp on the downed man's head. The room was dim, but he could see Oats herded into the corner by the other assailant. Both of them were surprised to see the nauseating enigma standing at the door.
"Hold it right there" Murphy bellowed in his best baritone. "Not another step."
The hooded man's hands shot to his mouth, and he bent to hurl onto a bookshelf. Oats was practised enough from his one time exposure to know he should look away. The shopkeeper tried to say something, but found a gagging noise take the place of his words. "You in the corner, outside now" Murphy said, pointing at Oats. His companion followed his instructions with absolute obedience, and made for the door like a mad man. He grabbed his satchel from his companion as he ran past. He trusted that if he got out of this, he'd meet the man at the Tavern later as they'd discussed. Murphy turned his attention to the shopkeeper, the sound of retching in the corner confirmed the other man was subdued for the time. "You, give me your best books" he demanded.
"What?" The old shopkeeper groaned, his eyes glued to the floor. "What kind of books are the best ones?"
"Most expensive."
"Go fuck yourself."
"Very well" he declared, raising his staff. He hadn’t discussed the possibility of plan B with anyone, but he decided on his own that he should have a backup. This plan was much like his original, except he intended to play a character. His name was Muunfir the Mischievous, and he was a daring magical rogue. It was a character he'd been contemplating for all of half an hour, but he was confident he knew the charming rogue's motivations well. Uundah received an instant and open stream of consciousness, and he got to work.
The aspect of nearly glide erupted from Uundah, coating a few of the shelves, and the papers on the counter. He empowered it all, still connected to the cloud, and nothing happened.
"That's going to take some time to pay off" Uundah reminded him.
"I know" Murphy assured him. "That's for later."
The shopkeeper was searching for something behind the counter, so Murphy sent the aspect of force his way, he empowered it as it left his hand, and it reacted with turbulence as it flew towards the old man. By the time it hit him, enough of it was spent for the effect to only knock the man off of his feet. Murphy climbed onto the counter, and sent another glob of force towards the recovering man in the corner. This one left via Uundah, and was considerably more concentrated. It hit the man with enough power to send him spinning into a shelf. Both the man and the shelf crashed to the floor with a loud bang, making Murphy confident he was alone with the shopkeeper.
"Books. Now" He demanded in his poor attempt at a deep voice.
The old man growled, and crawled towards the counter. "Fine. But you'll pay for this" he threatened, as he opened the cabinet.
"No funny business. Or I'll cut off your ears and send them to your first love" Murphy threatened in return.
He managed to keep his composure when he saw the backpack emerge from the cabinet. He watched as it was put aside, and a small box was pulled out. The old man slid the box onto the counter. "Now get out of my shop, you dirty bastard" he barked, still not looking at Murphy.
"That too!" The Now criminal Warlock demanded, pointing at his backpack. His demand must have been a little too eager however, since it caused the old man to pause, and brave looking right at him. "It's you" he hissed with a venomous tone. "I knew I recognised that stupid accent". His eyes were starting to water, and his face was turning red, clearly suffering from the effects of the ugly aspect.
"I don't know what you’re talking about" Murphy responded, doing his best to deepen the voice further.
The man looked to the door and drew in a deep breath. Murphy thought the old merchant was going to vomit, but then he heard him scream.
"Guards!"
"Plan R" he thought to Uundah.
"What's plan R?"
"Run" he thought back. He scooped the backpack from the ground with the O'jin staff, and slid it to his hands. As he jumped back to the floor, he turned in the air to be facing the old man on his landing. He scooped the small box into his hands, and smirked. "You'll never forget the day you tangled with Muunfir the Mischievous" he quipped.
"That's a stupid fucking name" the old man retorted.
Just as he turned to run, a book flew from the shelf nearby, nearly hitting him in the face. He broke into a mad laugh as he stepped over the man at the door, and sprinted into the street. Behind him was an eruption of chaos, as books flew from their places, infecting everything they touched with the violent and volatile aspect of nearly glide.