A Raider, A Devil and A Heiress Walk Into A Bar... [Lucky & Dlaks]

The night as the trio knew it was nearly shattered in the glow of the beams of searchlights roving around the grim fortress of a prison; shining eyes the Raider and her cohorts were savvy enough to cease just beyond their sight. Sprinkled at obvious points of entry any fool would know to avoid were the tired-eyed Hylian men clad in iron with spears at their side, patrolling the boarders soon to be breached without their knowledge or consent. Levia took a brief moment to familiarize herself with what she knew under the light of day. In silence, the young bandit beckoned her benefactors to stay close and stick low as stealth carried her through a particularly creative path.

It was here that the Rupee-eyed thief let her instincts take over. Her path of choice was one far off towards the backside of the stone prison walls, full of cover under the foliage of bushes, but not without the watchful eyes of guards. A distraction was in order. She would duck behind greens, make certain there were no risks not accounted for, then let one of her trusty mini bombs fly. A crack of a tiny explosion bursts through the silent night, followed by the grumble of alert voices and the clanking of metal. Sounds that the deft bandit used to determine the next route for the trio to move forward. They rarely had to stop, for their presence was always overlooked by guards who left their posts to investigate the strange sounds and marks of soot in seemingly random locations. Their curiosity left nothing to stand in the way of this raid thus far. Levia moved quickly, stopping only to check for unwanted company before pressing onward. She did not look to the Devil or the Heiress but for moments at a time to make sure they had stayed close, almost certainly muttering insults should either of them stumble.

Their way of entry becomes obvious as they encroached upon pair of guards--a chatty pair, completely clueless of their surroundings as they stared at the beautiful night sky. To these two, there was no reason to take defending the opening of the prison walls just above them that could easily be scaled by the strategic placement of the scattered barrels of equipment (or perhaps ale) around him. These possibilities, unbeknownst to these unwary ones, were clear to the patch-eyed thief and her two allies that hid just beyond his view. But before they could take advantage of any of it, something needed to be done about those guards. Using a mini bomb now while so close to them may give them away, Levia mused. They would need to work their way past them while they stayed unaware via conversation.

"Hey, Four-Eyes," the Raider addresses the Heiress in a nigh noiseless whisper, "You're strong, right? Think you can sneak past those two and get one of those barrels for us?"

Yes, she could sneak past to guards and procure the rotund footing, this would be well within the bounds of her strength. Voicing this fact, however, was not. Just a moment she had been so sure, so ready to do whatever Levia or Lister asked of her, but now she was wracked with self doubt. What if they heard? What if they simply paused from their idle chatter long enough to take note of the moved barrels. Surely the alarm would be raised, the gates would close, and all of Anne’s little dreams would wilt before they could ever take root. Once more, she’d lose everything, and once more, it would be by her hand. Knowing she must give some response, lest Levia abandon the venture here and now, the raven-haired maiden gave a single solemn nod, resting her sword and saber against the soft grass.

She had never needed the nerve to snatch a purse from a distracted common-folk, like Levia, nor had she ever needed the nimbleness of Lister when escaping from dozens of pursuing guards, but she did have much experience with treading lightly. Every night, for a little more than a decade, she would need to sneak past many different servants quarters, guest rooms, and even estate guardsman, in order to make her nightly pilgrimage to the family library. The last hurdle was always her mother, who was overfond of the adjacent decanter, and the whiskey therein. If Anne could sneak past the hawk-eyed serpent that was Igna’vous Llangollen, a few sleepy-eyed guards didn't stand a chance. As she crept ever closer, avoiding every wayward ray of torchlight, and loose patch of gravel, she could feel the burning gaze of two pairs of green eyes. One watched with impatient doubt, the other quiet expansion. The poor heiress was unsure which one stung the most.