*clop clop clip clap*

A few more seconds.

*clip Clop Clop Clack*

another four for good luck.

*CLip CLOp CLICK CLACK*

  Whirling around, I chuck a crudely made brick at the rider. Seeing it narrowly miss his head, I run back into the alley and into the next street. Blending in with the crowd, I enter a souvenir stall. I glance back to find an anxious animal atop its steed, searching the crowd. Picking an item off one of the bottom shelves, I read the hidden contents. Where am I? The commerce district, which is conveniently conjoined with the commoner residential district. The funny thing is, I ran away from the slum racketeering circle, only to find another. Third jewelry shop on First Street, wearing rich dark green trousers. That's my mark. Glancing backward, I catch the lowlife still trying to find me. I give the stall owner my chosen mark and two silvers as payment for the lead. The best part is, nothing is attached to crime here. Only money talks and only money matters. Blending back into the crowd, I make my way past the degenerate, still looking around like an oaf, and turn right onto the first side street. It's been two months and progress has slowed down.

  At first, I assaulted commoners and took some over their coin. Not all of it, but enough to get me by. Not enough for them to report me, but enough to build up my savings. A few attacks a day kept me few and able to procure information faster than just asking around. It all went wrong when I brained a noble. Ever since then, the fat pigs on top of the hill have become scared. They send out their tools to lure me out. To bait me into revealing myself. They overlooked one thing. I'm not the only opportunist in this district. Several knights have been robbed of their effects. Proper equipment sells well on the black market. A few rounds of processing and any signs of previous possession are gone. As for me? My quarries are still the defenseless. Occasionally I brain one of their sheep, but I never rob. I have no trustworthy buyer. No contact to pawn off well made and traceable goods.

  Walking past the second jewelry shop on the street, I turn left into an alley. Skipping a street, I climb up a sturdy drainage pipe and gently skitter across the roof. Using my time well, I scoped out the most popular vendors and vantage points I can see their customers from. Some I can see from a good hidden vantage point, others can only be observed in person. Peeking around a chimney stack, I frown. Only one man with green leggings, and he's leaving. Waiting, I watch two other men following from a distance. Eyes trained on him and his surroundings. Blending into the crowd, their sword handles poking out of their trench coats. Armed and dangerous. Out of my current capabilities, but I don't have to fight them. Sliding down the drainpipe, I make my way closer to the commercial street. Stopping just ahead of the trio, I motion to the little grungy apes begging for money. Waiting for the men to pass by, I say, "The man in green tights heading South. Four minutes after he stops, distract him for a moment." Extending his grubby hand out, he looks at me expectantly. Narrowing my eyes I say, "Three coppers, one for this and two for yesterday. Same deal, I'll give you another two coppers the next time I need you." Backing into a wall, I open a small pouch under my shirt and take out her change. I only keep a small amount of coin on me at any time. Keeping any more is asking to be killed here. No one cares about a nobody and no one will care as long as he doesn't want them to. So where's the rest of the money? Hidden inside a floorboard, under the base of a wall in an in I frequent.

  Stalking after my target, I follow the guards instead of the man in tights. Seeing the apes blatantly following the man in front of his guards, I sigh. I hope the timing is right. Watching my prey walk into a food stall, I meander around to the stall next to his. Adjusting the ratty scarf around my face, I pull my worn coat loose. Paying a copper for some cheap meat skewers, I wait. I watch. I attack. Seeing the guards on edge, I decide to lets the apes act without me. Two minutes before they start, I slowly approach his side while scrutinizing the food offered. Fried snacks from meat items to lighter junk. Glancing around the man, seemingly not paying attention to him, I find the guards distractedly looking at the eager idiots. Slipping a decently sharp serrated knife from inside my coat, I pretend to get a closer look at the food while slicing the money pouch's drawstring. Gently clipping on a small bag of rocks, I pull the money pouch into my coat. Holstering the knife, I once again hold the meat kebob that was held in my mouth and pull a piece off. Snorting, I walk towards the guards while eating the last four pieces of meat. A clean face, slow gait, happily eating does put me under most radars. In this case, I know that they have identified their enemies already. I don't need to quickly walk away and make myself suspicious. I'm a commoner right now, with sparse money to spend, but nothing to hide from.

  Stopping at the next stall, I watch as the familiar squinty-eyed giant of a man tosses his fried rice while dealing out servings. Throwing the kabob stick assing a copper across the counter, I grab a portion and meander into an alley. Leaning against the wall, I check the other alley inhabitants before deciding to move on. Walking through the maze of residential streets, I find an empty one while enjoying my dinner. Pulling out the money pouch I peek inside. Seeing the beautiful golden shine, I quickly walk into the next street. Turning into another empty street, I empty the contents on the ground. Picking out twelve silver coins, I leave the gold and money pouch on the ground. Making a loop into a busier street, I slowly sit on the entrance to a dilapidated home. Fiddling with my fingers, I watch as a group of hunters returns from the street I discarded the coins. Marked gold currency, a recent innovation of magic, and an effort to catch better, more resourceful pickpocketers. You can't tell which ones are marked without being capable of magic yourself, another distinction between the well-off and powerful versus the bottom feeders. I've found the location and means, but the only course of action for me is to purchase it fairly.

  With this mark, I'm at thirteen gold or 1323 silver coins. The currency is quite simple, a hundred silver for one plain gold coin. Copper coins for items of less value, trading for varying amounts of coins for one silver. In short, collecting copper is useless. The fewer coins, the better. I would have exchanged for gold coins, but I can't tell if I'll be tracked and robed. Transferring 2500 silver coins to a book shop won't be easy, but I'll think of something. Just another goal, and yet another plan to be made. Walking back to the main street, I pass one of the many prominent churches. The curious thing about this district is that churches reside inside the residential areas and temples are based on the outskirts. Peaking into the church, I'm confronted by a smiling face. Welcoming me in, the nun watches me as I follow a couple to the pews. Sitting a short distance away, I copy their actions while scouting the interior. Ordinary wooden walls and some cheap decorations scattered around, but what stood out is the podium. More specifically the donation box under it. For the amount of copper coins being inserted compared to the box size, there should be a separate safe or hidden stash. The question is where and when is the coinage transferred? Sighing, I get up and leave. Even if I could figure the timings out, copper isn't what I need. Perhaps the more ostentatious churches can help me out here.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Wandering back to the main street, I approach a different stall. Same operation, just a different handler. Looking through the bottom shelf, I find a mark near the Second Marx Church. Red scabbard, blue tunic, and brown hair. Weapons shop across the Marx School of Fighting. Paying the handler 2 silver, I leave the stall. Turning left at the first side street this time, I casually stroll into the Marx region of the district. Looking at the simple and neat buildings, I frown. I really hate these religious areas because of how ordered they are. Less chaos means less to work with. Quickly finding the weapons shop, I enter the store and pretend to look at the assorted knives in particular. Not finding my mark, I smile wryly before quickly leaving. Checking left, I find nothing but residential. Checking right, I find a few shops, but no mark on the street. Taking a quick walk down the street, I check the other shops to find my mark nowhere to be found. Another busted lead. He's somewhere here, but there's no point in wasting too much time. Loitering near the church steps, I wait. The best part of this church is that there are few restrictions. They believe in the result and only the result. The process is an achievement. Waiting about four minutes, I give up. Dusting my padded trousers, I hear some whispering from the deserted church yard. "Quickly! I'll be burned at the stake if they find out" a lady whispers. "Heh, burn you? They'd give you to me if I keep up the donations" a more masculine voice jokes.

  Slowly peeking around a column of stone, I find my mark making out furiously with a nun. What do Marx nuns look like? Generic, well proportioned, uniformed females. There is no long and modest habit, It's a button-up shirt tucked into a knee-length skirt. Some functional socks and common quality shoes. Nothing fancy, yet nothing overly flattering. Unbuttoning her shirt, he attacks her face with his, meat slapping onto meat. Backing into a shed, the sucking and licking continued all the way in. Sneaking around the church, I approach the back of the shed. Looking through the back window, I find them partially stripping each other. Giving into their base desires, I watch as the primates procreate. Focusing on the male, I find his coat hanging on a rake, money pouch nowhere to be seen. Hearing their rhythmic thumping, I creep around and crawl into the shed. Hiding behind a cluttered rack, I watch them engage in degeneracy. What is the point if both sides have inferior genes? Slowly crawly over to the rake, I wait until the female moans particularly loud before gently taking the coat off the rake, I wince as it slides across the wall before I catch it and hold it still. Checking back on the ignorant pair of beasts, I thank their inferior parents. Inferiors mate to make more inferiors for people like me.

  Setting the rake straight, I rummage through pockets to find a light money pouch. It seems like someone already donated. Emptying the pouch, I find a few gold coins and quite a few silver. Stuffing the silver coins into my own pouch, I look through his other belongings. A few cosmetic knives, some scented liquid, and a few cards. Fanning the cards out, I pull out a few that I don't recognize and return the rest back into his coat. Arranging his coat below the rake, I start crawling out to find a group of men already in the yard, casually conversing. Cursing, I huddle in a corner of the shack. Walking out isn't a terrible idea, but my attire is wrong for this area. I simply stick out like a diamond in a well-lit coal mine. With my current strength, I could outrun them, but I need to stay under the radar as much as possible right now. Maybe when I leave this district I can cause some chaos, but until then I need to play safe. Shifting a burlap bag, I position it in front of me. With the dim lighting and ratty scarf covering most of my face, it shouldn't be hard to hide for now.

  Patiently waiting, roughly three sets of four minutes pass. How do I know? I counted. The rhythmic thumping is surprisingly in sync with a normal tempo. The couple seems to be dressing up and getting ready to leave. Peeking out the entrance, the male says, "Wait here. Leave the shed a few minutes after I leave so no one suspects us." Snorting the female calls him out for only caring about himself, but complies. Sitting with her back facing me, she watches him leave. Rocking back and forth, her exposed neck calls to me. So fair. So fine. Tender and vulnerable, just waiting for me to use. A simple stab, jab, slice, slash, or hack would do the job. Worst case scenario? All my plans fail, I'm imprisoned and executed. Maybe a little torture in between. Best case scenario? The dapper primate that just banged her takes the blame. I didn't leave evidence on her, he did. Rocking back and forth, she entices me and my dagger. Getting closer, and then farther.

  Mentally sighing, I compose myself. Still as a rock and silent like the dead. Silent like Maggie. I can't take risks yet. Sighing, she leans back against the burlap sack in front of me. Restraining my breath, I wait. A bit less than four minutes later, she gets up and dusts herself off. Suddenly hearing shouting from outside, she decides to hide near me. crouching down, she pulls the burlap sack from in front of me and uses it to cover herself. Clenching my teeth, I loosen my coat and pull out my dagger. No witnesses and definitely no evidence must be left behind. Slowly creeping up behind her, I reach out and clamp her mouth shut. With my other hand, I slowly drag the dagger across her throat. Slow and steady wins the race. Slow and steady leaves no mistakes. Feeling her stop trembling, I stab her once to make sure before letting her mouth go. Easing her head down onto the burlap sack, I wipe my dagger on her sleeve. Staring at her eyes, I smirk at the void of life in them. Quickly making it to the back of the shed, I peek out the window. Nothing. Opening the latch I ease myself over the ledge and outside. Closing the window, I glance at the open latch. Is that evidence? Probably, but it won't lead to me. Taking one last look inside I check the scene meticulously. No torn pieces of clothing or personal items left behind. Pulling out one of the stolen cards, I find a generic one with a sword on it and leave it on the window sill.

  Evidence pointing elsewhere is always a great idea. My scent on the card should be close to nonexistent, but the scent of the male and his mate should be pretty prominent. Slowly making my way to the fringes of church property, I skirt around the vegetation and walk on the street once again. Opting to avoid the main street, I turn into the residential and cut across into Fifth street. A street full of inns, taverns, and proper restaurants. Finding the sign spell 'The Cherry Mary', I quietly follow a midget inside. Ignoring the inhabitants of the lobby cum dining area, I head down a hallway and open my room door. Tracing my finger over the still intact thread, I nod. No room service, no would-be thieves, and no intruders from the door. Closing the door behind me, I inspect my room. Just a few sacks of tools left in the far left corner with the drawstring pointed away. Perfect. Lifting a few floorboards, I set them against the door. Finding a particular section of the wooden beam supporting the wall, I position my feet on either side and pull.

  Slowly at first, a small section pops out, leaving a gap in the beam. Is this bad for the wall? Maybe, but it won't affect the structural integrity while I'm still here. If anything, it'll give the next guy some fresh air, granted he or she doesn't end up under the wall. Taking a shovel out of my tool bag, I dig in the gap and uncover my stash. Taking out today's earnings, I add another 27 silver. Keeping four silver with me, I bury the stash and fix the wooden beam in place. Returning the floorboards to their places, I sigh. It's so stifling in this town. I really need to get stronger soon. I need to figure out how to transport 2500 silver coins and I need to prepare for my forest escapade. Most of all, I need time to properly develop my body. Years in the slum made me thin and weaker than acceptable. Putting my garden shovel back in its sack, I head back into the dining area to relax. A small glass of milk and a healthy snack would be great.

   Telling the waitress my order, I close my eyes and listen to the conversations around me. Tuning out the politics and flirting, I focus on the more unusual customers. One old man talking about some kind of bounty, a young group of hunters talking about infamous criminals, and a fancy hat-wearing group of individuals talking about their foray into the nearby woods. So much useful information, but so little of it is freely available. For now, I should focus on getting my hands on an introduction to magic and information about the surrounding land.