Vignette - The First Heist
Meeritza and Yes
The glittering eyes of the dragon stared imperiously down upon their domain. The streets below pulsed with the movement of wealth, glowing in little lights, showing where the prizes were. This was all second nature, and so trivial that Yes could not believe or really understand it when Meeritza had revealed that mere mortals couldn't see this too. The best of things stood out, and having these things revealed allowed them to become targets.
Meeritza had a lot of insight for... whatever she was. One of the giants, sure, but Yes just wasn't sure exactly which kind and didn't really care about the difference. But insight. That was in abundance and in addition there was that annoying ability to just see right through the immaculate disguise that was so innate to dragon-kind. Meeritza had asked for a share in the food and comforts, but would happily give all the best hoard materials over if they worked together.
Apparently, she only wanted food and a few other things. A pittance. She didn't even want to keep the coins, so she said! Preposterous, Yes had thought, until she had explained a truly mind-shattering secret. That if they used the coins to buy things... and then took the coins back later... they could have the coins AND the things they had bought with them! Better yet, the merchants somehow wouldn't miss the coins, and they wouldn't be angry because they had made their sale.
Loathe to admit it, Yes conceded that this was a suitably draconic level of genius. Certainly the waif had such genius rub off from standing in such a mighty draconic presence.
The hard part was getting the original coins! Sometimes they would be dropped or lost, and that was all well and good, but Yes would not dignify such muck-raking behavior. Scrounging was for... well... not dragons! So they must be taken. By force and guile if possible. And Meeritza had plans for taking them.
Her first plan involved Yes flying up to a balcony. Simple. On a calm night like this, flying was easy. The balcony was no challenge at all. Yes dropped the bag that Meeritza had helped to put on. For some reason, the notion of a pack was one that Yes's shoulders could not easily navigate, but that Meeritza's nimble fingers made trivial. It was an excellent addition but, Yes considered, it rather ruined the overall illusion. The trade-off was that Yes could carry a much wider variety of things.
As a minor flex of indomitable draconic might, a rope... a real one... snaked its way out of the bag. It coiled into a tight ring, and then pulled itself up and over the lip of the balcony. As it fell, the length knotted itself in segments and tied itself to the balustrade. Another, thinner tapered braid of cord jumped from the bag and laid itself out on the balcony. A further twitch of power sent a ripple through the length that ended with a whip-crack snap ringing out in the night.
Down below, Meeritza grabbed the bottom of the dropped rope and tied it off against a nearby fountain where she had set a pulley wheel. Yanking to test it, Meeritza scrambled up spider-quick and hauled herself over the balustrade. On her back was a pack full of sacks and short ropes in stacks. But tucked into her vest was a set of lock picks, secured at great expense, or at least what she considered so, from some of her larcenous contacts. Making her way to the balcony doors she prepared to open... her first real lock.
She considered that she probably should have practiced on a real lock somewhere else first.
Obro
The city was full of clothes. Everyone wore them. Carts were filled with them. But none of them were right. None of them felt correct for the purposes of making more.
Hiding was instinctual. Do not be seen. That was important. Empty clothing walking around would frighten the people. This was also instinctual. Nothing would be accomplished if the people were afraid. First, the proper seed was needed.
Lurking, Obro kept out of the way and in the shadows. The wasteland had turned into grassy hills which had given way to woodlands, and here there were roads. But those roads had been sparse and traveled by the poor and rugged. These would not do for the purposes of making new... whatever they were.
But further on the roads were more traveled. Wagon tracks dug ruts along the pathways, the dirt so crushed that nothing could grow there. Bridges crossed over streams, offering a challenge as Obro could not ford the stream for risk of being swept away by the current. The shape of a person was trivial, but the mass and solidity of one was another matter. Water made the cloth heavy and filled in boots and gloves, making movement difficult and giving a drooping, cloth-over-sticks appearance that could not pass as an actual person.
The solution was to hide until the road was clear. But too soon there had been guards at the bridges. Now it was time to evade.
A cart pulled to the side before the crossing. The bed of the cart piled high and covered with oilcloth. The drivers were distracted, arguing over a map. This was the time. A mad dash and a dive into the cargo.
Darkness. Bundles and piles of cloth, Bolts of linen, folds of quilts. The perfect hiding place. The cart rattles and bumps after a time, and a while longer it stills. The sense of people being around informs that they are awake and nearby. Caution is still needed. But after a while yet, they are asleep.
Climbing out, Obro inspects the surroundings. They are alone, and everyone else is asleep. Banked embers keep the fire warm without giving off flames. The others are asleep in bundles of cloth. Searching the recumbent people, Obro discovers none of the things these people are wearing are suitable. None bear the... something... the... quality?
Obro stands confused for a time watching these people sleep. They are wearing clothes but clearly none of these will do. Once again it occurs to exercise willpower against things to see if anything will happen, but nothing does. No matter. The people won't do, but they will certainly be going where the correct sort will be. Patience.
Climbing back in the cart and arranging things better, Obro waits. And at long last the feeling of people grew as the population increased all around. This was the town. Now all that remained was to find a seed that would allow for... propagation.
Argorat - A brother vanishes
"You know," said the priest moments after the drops really started kicking in, "what the world really needs... y'know... is..."
He trailed off as the colors kaleidoscoped in his vision. Whatever grand wisdom he was about to bestow would have to wait. Around him, a small batch of giggles cropped up, bubbling from the ground like patches of mushrooms. Little invisible things danced through the air, leaving iridescent wakes in reality. Someone patted him on the shoulder.
"We're so connected right now," said a faun beside him, "I can feel it. Like... the world needs more music and love."
The priest considered those buzzing words, weighing them on the golden scales held by the angel/demon with the glittering scales. Was that what the world really needed? He kicked away the gremlins that had arrived to steal his toes. Mouth like cotton and directions no longer mattering he squinted at the faun.
"Music and love?" He couldn't figure out where they fit in. They were important yes, but the world had them, "I was thinking..."
"Truth and beauty?" Another priest in the circle interrupted.
"Epicurean delights" cut in another.
"Carnal knowledge" said yet another.
More of the circle weighed in, adding to the cacophony of wrong answers spinning in his head. Wealth, fame, partners, health, happiness, color, clarity, warmth, joy... too much.
The shapes and colors, distorted and swirling, pulsing with the sounds and blossoming with the smells and flavors of the circle, the feel of every thread, hair, gust of breeze, and a billion tiny crawling things.
"Less!" the priest screamed, banishing the overwhelming sensations that threatened to destroy him. Suddenly he was floating in an endless realm of nothing. Gone.
The circle of acolytes stared at the spot where their fellow traveler had sat. A blank, empty spot remained where he had once been, not even the air had moved in to fill it yet. A person-shaped void, only noticeable by the shapes around it, held there by unknown means. The loincloth he had worn remained wrapped around the nothing of his waist as did strands of woven fibers, beads, and even crumbs from his beard, all seemingly hanging in empty space.
In such situations, there will inevitably be someone who cannot resist testing their observations. The circle watched as an acolyte's finger reached out to touch the nothing. Like popping a bubble, the 'nothing' collapsed. Around the circle; hair, clothes, dust, leaves, and anything else that was unattended blew inward in a rush of air that ended in a clap of thunder and a little pile of stuff left behind.
Shaken up and somewhat sobered, the circle stared at the little heap that marked their fellow wisdom-seekers absence.
"Wow," said the faun, dreamily, "Did anyone save any of those drops?"
Success! - Meeritza and Yes
``I can't believe that actually worked,'' Yes said, pleased, ``I really thought I would have to leave you high and dry. I mean I was ready to just fly off and leave you behind. I never thought we'd be here counting out... everything!''
``Oh, yeah, thanks,'' Meeritza grumbled with an eyeroll, ``I'm so grateful you didn't abandon me.''
``You don't sound grateful, even though your words are correct,'' Yes said, eyes squinted.
``Well observed,'' Meeritza sighed, working at the knot of the first sack, ``by the gods and fairies, how did you get this knot so tight?!''
She picked and pulled at the knot, her fingernails bending rather than getting into the seams. Frustrated, she slipped out her knife and made to cut.
``You're really bad at that,'' Yes said with a smirk and the wave of a claw.
The knot undid itself and the sack fell open.
``I shall graciously allow you to appraise our conquest now.''
Wordless sounds of annoyance accompanied the noisy removal of the loot.
Out came the silver dishware and flatware and candlesticks, the fine linen napkins in a dozen colors and patterns, a few more durable decorative snuff boxes and perfume containers, a handful of fancy necklaces now all tangled. Silks of many types, damask and lace, velvet and satin, came out next having been layered in with as much care as the rushed caper could have allowed. Under this was the loose pile of coins, rings, earrings, and other little trinkets that could be grabbed by the handful.
Yes watched, eyes glittering in a reflection of the riches that were being piled on the floor. The lair had quadrupled, perhaps quintupled, from this bag alone! Robbing a wealthy person's home was certainly the way to go! And there were bags yet to open! Yes remembered going through the room Meeritza called a 'kitchen' and all the wonderful things they found there. A side room had been almost uncomfortably cold, like a room full of winter itself, and filled with shelf after shelf of foods and ingredients! They had even stolen an entire pie!
The girl had warned that the food might get squashed in the bags she had brought, as there was no way to stabilize or pad the sides, but if Yes's nose could detect anything more than wealth, it was the scent of sugary delights. Yes insisted that this be the next bag opened and tucked in to the pie while Meeritza unpacked the cutlery and the bottles of various kitchen liquids. Yes couldn't help but notice that she was also nibbling on some of the sweet biscuits as she went. Clearly this was yet another sign of superior draconic intuition.
The evening passed as the treasures were piled up. The food didn't last, and Meeritza popped open a few select bottles. She had taken a fancy goblet that she insisted should be hers to use, filling up a fancier serving bowl for Yes to drink from. Meeritza sorted and neatened things up, portioning out many things that she was fine adding to Yes's pile, but setting the coins and small things aside. Yes did nothing, but was fine to watch. Every time that Meeritza added something sent a thrill down Yes's spine, but when she set things aside there came a longing for it. But time and again was the reassurance that the coins and simple things would be used to secure greater treasures. Though it was difficult to willingly delay such gratification, Yes could certainly see the benefits of looking forwards to better things.
And as the drink wore out, and there was less to sort through, both became groggy and lethargic. Some of the drink had been quite stronger than either was really used to. Meeritza had drunk alcohol before, but it had always been weak wine or small beer or cider. This was an altogether different beast.
Lazing on piles of rich fabrics, the pair began to recount their caper. Meeritza would point out some thing that Yes had done that she couldn't have managed, and Yes even managed to be complimentary towards her. She asked how the tricks with the ropes and strings were managed, to which Yes would only reply with ``I just can, I'm a dragon.'' They joked and told stories of tricks and conquests and the strange tidbits Meeritza had learned in her urchinery. Finally, they were both too tired to continue as the last candle burned low on its fancy silver stick.
``I just realized,'' Meeritza said sleepily, ``I don't think I ever asked your name. Do you have a name?''
The dragon grumbled a bit, considering the question. It seemed ridiculous at first. Of course! Every dragon had a name. But... well... the giants and other folk were so very ignorant. After all it was only the terrible ones that desolated the land in ages past who had their names spread far and wide by the fearful populace. What would it hurt? This new willing servant had added substantially to the hoard... surely they deserved this much. Besides, then sleep could happen.
``My name is Yesdafiklafellia'atun. Named by my nestor who was called Vorgatshira the Scourging Lashes, so I was told,'' A satisfied snort followed, signifying that awe should be the appropriate response.
``Yes dah fick lah fell ee ah, Ah-toon?,'' Meeritza sounded out, ``Okay then.''
``Correct enough, but... you didn't make it flow very well. A dragon's name should flow lyrically and convey their power and grace so all should fear them.''
``Is that what your... what did you say... nestor? Is that like a mom?''
``What is a 'mom'. A nestor has... I mean... a nestor makes the nest. They have the nest and then baby dragons hatch from the nest. You can't be a nestor without a nest. Otherwise, you're just a dragon.''
``Moms are like nestors then,'' Meeritza confirmed, ``They make a house and raise children. I don't have a mom. I grew up in a work house with the other orphans. I got out of there as soon as I could too.''
Yes considered, ``What sort of folk are you anyway? You look like one of the giants, but I can't tell which kind. Giants all look mostly the same."
Meeritza shrugged, snuggling down into the pile, ``I don't know, I don't care either. I just try to stay out of the way,'' she growled a bit, her mood turning sour, ``I hate working. I just want a nice comfortable life out of the way. If we gotta steal all those fancy things to get it, then that's what we'll do. You can have your pile big as you like and I can just eat and drink when I like in a nice warm room.''
She blew out the candle. Silence fell. Yes couldn't fall asleep but didn't want to say anything further. Too many thoughts and conflicted feelings battled for dominance. Too many things to be sorted out from just one conversation. Dragons didn't normally feel this way. Of course dragons almost never talked to non-dragons. Now this strange person was sharing the lair. And she had just... walked in! Just attached herself and filled the place with treasures and was now sleeping on a pile of her own in a corner!
``My name is Meeritza, by the way,'' her voice murmured out in the darkness, ``good night, Yes.''
