Thief in oiled leathers

Started by Rei, October 25, 2012, 02:43:19 AM

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Rei

He sat alone at night, alternating from his home in the Vale, and his private room at the unofficial guild hall for ne'er do wells.  He would sit out in the open or near a fire, depending on what residence he chose to stay at for the night, and would contemplate the events of his recent life.  He had returned, alongside his orc travel companion, to Marketvale.  No real reason why other than to return home.  He had tried to form a relationship with an old friend who he did have honest feelings for, but she was the guarded type and he had let that thread go out to sea while he continued on with his days.  He spent most of his time 'collecting' rare and precious items and keeping the Vale as clear of invading dragonkin as possible, and was even granted the position of General in the militia.  Would that be enough to keep his mind centered here? to keep him from wanting to go again?  He knew the answer and that was what kept him awake and alone at night.  He knew the time would come when he would need to wander again.

He knew two of his closest friends here in the Vale had found each other and he was genuinely happy for them.  He would pick fun at them from time to time but he truly wished them well.  His family was still here too, at least his daughters and ex wife were.  Tai, his boy, had been out at sea for years and was unlikely to return home.  He knew where the boy was, Kalador, the orc, would check in with him at times, but he knew he was unlikely to see the boy any time soon, if ever again.  He had taken on some employees to help around the area, a dwarf and a surface drow, with making tools and equipment for those who needed it, but they were just employees and he held no real connection to them. 

This was a night for strong drink, so he opened a bottle of White Lightning he got some time ago from his friend and former leader of Marketvale, Rease Hunter, and took a long pull from the bottle.  He looked up at the portrait that hung on the wall in his private room and smiled, it meant a lot to him, as did the person who gave it to him.  "There I go again, day dreaming.  At least she is happy with him."  He raised the bottle to the portrait, still smiling, and took another drink.  He would wait for Inara to return to see where they stood and would move forward from there.  When last he saw her she was still battling within herself the idea of 'committing', even with as loose a definition as Rei had for the word with her.  Did he even want that? Or was he just at the point of not caring just to end the loneliness?  His feelings were true, as they always were, but he couldn't make out what was in his own mind at this point.  Things would work themselves out eventually, they always did. 

He took his bottle and walked to his treasure vault..... well not exclusively his, but he still thought of it that way.  A proper thief would walk off with everything here and be done with it, but he could never bring himself to do that.... He had principles and honor.  Truly he was an odd specimen, an expert thief and shadow walker, and more than adept with a weapon, but he could never truly be so cold as to take everything without giving the others a chance to take their share.  Finishing off the bottle he goes back to his private room to sit next to the fire once more and just think........ It was a long day and he needed the break....

Rei

The night was long, but the party was great.  He didn't feel alone tonight, he was surrounded by friends and had plenty of drink to fill his gut.  The preparation took days and some loss of treasure to the dragons for a one night truce but it was worth it.  He made his way home early enough to watch the stars with the peripheral glow from the neighboring houses.

This was a night he would remember for a long time, a night he would categorize in his mind with the other nights that were like this.... he smiled as he looked at the stars, leaning back in his chair with his bow resting on the table beside him.  He fell asleep on the porch listening to the crickets, the alcohol he had that night, ensuring his mind was quiet as he slept.