Prisolyna sat on one of the many rooftops in the city, one leg hanging off the edge into an alley below and the other tucked beneath her. The hanging leg swung loosely as she looked out over the city she had spent so much time living in recently. The air was still and the smells of the city encapsulated her. Smoke from forges mixed with bakeries and other delicacies being cooked. It was an intoxicating aroma, one she had grown to love.

What was she going to do today? She told those two she had something planned, but that was a lie. In reality, she had very little to do during the day. She wasn't a part of any of the local gangs. They were all too focused on theft beyond what they needed, usually targeting others who couldn't afford to be stolen from. The rich don't make easy targets after all. The more money you have, the better protection you tend to be able to afford.

She grimaced a little as she thought back on last night. There were a couple of other lies sprinkled in with her conversation with the gnome and man. She’d never actually stolen anything before, to be perfectly honest. Sure, there were some grey areas involving dead people or things dropped, but to actually steal from someone from under their noses? Hadn’t happened.

Some thief, she kicked idly at the building with her heel. There was a small bit of good though. She had gotten quite good at fighting with her two short swords. Smiling, she patted at them as they rested comfortably at her hips, always tied around her waist when she went out during the day. After last night, she was considering wearing them as well when thieving, and not just the small dagger tucked into her boot. If this whole thieving from the rich to help the poor didn't work out, she could always join up as a mercenary somewhere.

Her smile fell. If the person hiring her could get past the fact she was a Star Elf. How was it her fault which celestial body she had been born under? The gnome seemed to have that part right, but she still hated being reminded of it. Luckily these two didn't seem to care. In fact, the paladin didn't even seem to realize there was a difference between Elves.

Her frown turned into a grimace. She had nearly stolen from a paladin. A member of the Order of Seraphim followers. It would've been easy, he was fast asleep and left his stuff in an open bag. But stealing from a holy order person was a sure ticket to get tortured in the Other Realm. The mage though…

She wasn't entirely sure he was even a mage. Prisolyna hadn’t dealt with mages much, really just talking to them in taverns as they passed through the city, but he just seemed… off. She hadn't gotten a good look into his pack, but had a nagging suspicion he had triggered his cantrips when he knew she was going to. It was almost as if he was hiding something in there, some information he did not want anyone else to discover. She would have to revisit that pack at a later time.

She shuddered, thinking about those horrific chains of smoke and fire he had caught her with. What kind of mage used such nasty magic? It wasn't unheard of to specialize in a specific element, but doing so with fire seemed so evil and dangerous. Fire was meant to destroy, what good could specializing in it bring except destruction and power to the one wielding it? It was the only thing keeping her from looking at his pack the first chance she got. He probably had another cantrip on it to prevent anyone but himself from opening it.

Sitting here dwelling on it wouldn't change anything. She got up, brushing the bits of dust that had collected on her pants from the rooftop, and strolled along the edge. It was amazing how little people looked up as they went about their daily lives. Some of the more haughty and arrogant, Sun Elves in particular, tilted their heads up but looked down their slender noses at those around them. Most of the working class kept their heads down as they walked, looking at the grounds or occasionally each other. It made for easy and discreet traversing through the city, even in the middle of the day.

The buildings were stacked close enough to one another that hopping over the alleyways was easy enough. Being an Elf didnt hurt her abilities, but even the paladin could manage it, with a running start. The gnome could too, if the paladin gave him a toss. She smirked at the thought of the fiery little mage being tossed, a look of sheer shock and anger on his face.

She kept wandering the city, keeping parallel to some of the main avenues and hopping the occasional break in the rooftop. There was no specific destination in mind, she let herself wander aimlessly. Soon, she started to recognize the area of the city she was in. She was near the fence. Pausing a moment, she decided she may as well go see if Gild and Turwyn were finished with their errand. Tiki had good information and she was sure they would get something useful from him. She needed something to do anyways, and following them seemed an appropriate task. She should learn a bit more about the people she was just hired by. Hopefully they didn't ask why she had agreed so quickly.

Down below, Tiki’s shop stood, just as it always did. She prepared to settle in and watch the door when the gnome and man came barreling out, with Tiki close behind them and giving them shoves. They exchanged a few words, then Tiki went back inside, shutting the door and drawing the curtains over his windows. It seems their meeting for information didn't go quite as well as they would have liked. She wondered if it was something the paladin had said, maybe something about the law, or maybe Gild had said something. They stood outside the door, talking for a bit, before finally moving away and into the streets.

Immediately, she saw someone come out of the alleyway near the fences shop and start tailing the two men, keeping near parallel to them as they meandered down the street. Soon after, two more men seemed to coalesce from nowhere and were behind Gild and Turwyn. The gnome and paladin kept walking, talking to one another and seemingly oblivious to their stalkers.

Prisolyna kept up with them with ease, hopping across the rooftops, her hands at her sword hilts, ready to jump down and help the two out if needed. The men following them didn't make any moves however, and stayed just far enough away to give themselves some plausible deniability if they had been confronted. They were professionals, she was sure of it.

Turwyn spun around suddenly, looking every which way wildly and reaching for his axe. Gild laid a hand on him and calmed the man down. Prisolyna nodded, Gild must've noticed they were being followed. He was a surprisingly wily one, she would have to watch him closely if they were to adventure together.

Gild took Turwyn down an alleyway on the far end of the street, heading away from Prisolyna. She ran to the edge of the building, overlooking an alley of her own, and prepared to shimmy down and sprint to the other side of the street. The men on the rooftops above the alleyway the gnome and man just went down stopped her cold.

She could see enough of the alley to see Gild and Turwyn had stopped. Turwyn was reaching for his axe again but stopped, seemingly at the insistence of Gild. She craned out over the alleyway, trying to see more down their alley. She caught a glimpse of what looked like other people, just beyond the gnome. She couldn't see anything past the hulking man.

Her thoughts were confirmed when bags were put over their heads. Their feet and hands were quickly bound as well. Pleasantly surprised they hadn't put up a fight, as that would have led to maiming of some sort, she watched the group as they grabbed their captives and started deeper into the alley. One man threw Gild over his shoulder, while the two others took each end of Turwyn. They struggled to haul him down the alleyway.

Using their struggle, Prisolyna scurried down from the rooftop and took off across the street. She darted between people, drawing a few curses and shouts, and made it to the other alleyway just in time to catch sight of the man lugging Turwyn’s feet, or possibly head, around a corner. She slunk forward, peeking around the corner they went.

Gild and Turwyn were not struggling at all. In fact, they seemed oddly slumped, as if they had fallen asleep or been knocked out. She grimaced. The bags were probably coated with Qua Root on the inside. Pretty standard for a kidnapping. It would knock the target out quickly, and leave them with a massive headache once they woke up, disoriented and struggling to recall the last few moments before they were kidnapped.

A shuffling noise sounded above her and Prisolyna cursed. She’d forgotten to make sure the people with the bows up top weren't watching. The fact that she hadn't been immediately pinned to the ground with crossbow bolts was a good sign. Drawing a deep breath, she pulled at her small mana pool and shimmered.

Shimmering was an ability inherent to all Elves, though some could do it better than others. Taking just a small amount of mana, an elf could blur the edges of their outlines and make themselves somewhat transparent. More importantly, if someone wasn't looking at you directly and expecting you to be there, shimmering caused them to look over the blurry spot you’d just become.

Sun elves never shimmered if they could help it. It was considered beneath them, only a faculty of those born under the inferior celestial bodies of the moon and, horrifically, the stars. At this time, Prisolyna was never more glad to be born beneath the stars than ever before.

The tell tale tingle of shimmering washed over her. It felt as if her nerves were fraying apart and leaving her body, only to be stopped somewhere in the ether surrounding her. It was not a painful feeling, but no one would be caught describing it as a pleasing feeling. Even focusing and knowing where her hand would be, she saw nothing more than a vague outline, fading in and out of focused vision.

Feeling satisfied she was sufficiently obstructed from view, she took off down the alleyway and turned, following the kidnappers. They had not gotten too far ahead, Turwyn’s massive body made sure of that. The kidnappers took the proine forms of her group deeper into worse and worse areas of town. There really weren't any terrible areas, but some were a better place to find the seedier and less lawful things than others. The warehouse by the river, where the kidnappers were now carrying Gild and Turwyn toward, were a prime example of that kind of area.

After the men shut the door to the warehouse behind them, Prisolyna counted to ten before darting to the warehouse. She slunk along the wall, going around a corner from the door before scaling up the side. It was easy enough to climb, an old building made of uneven bricks that provided adequate hand and footholds. She managed to climb up to one of the windows that was left open, allowing a cool river breeze in. She slipped through, finding herself on a long catwalk.

Seeing no other movement, she crept along the catwalk, coming to the edge and looking onto the warehouse floor below. It was mostly empty, minus Gild and Turwyn tied to chairs, their backs to one another, bags still covering their heads. One of the men ripped a bag from Turwyn’s head first. The large man lolled about, his eyes unfocused and blinking profusely. Gild's bag was removed next, and the gnome promptly spat on the man removing his bag.

His actions earned him a hard backhand, rocking his head to the side and leaving an immediate red mark on his cheek. The gnome just smiled, spitting another bit of spit mixed with blood toward one of his captors. Prisolyna couldn't help but shake her head and smile. This little man had some serious gall, who in the world was he?