A cloaked figure strode through the market stalls of Limsa Lominsa, the worn sheathe of a longsword strapped to his waist. Although he stood at a towering 6’1â€, what truly set the Hyur apart from the crowd was his girth. Despite the thickness and length of his cloak, he had a powerful physique that could not be hidden.
Tyonis was not normally one for law-enforcement, but his desperation for Gil drove him to temporarily enlist as a mercenary guard. With all his claims and holdings in Ul’dah, Tyonis had no alternative but to find honest work for coin, lest he resort to thievery. Seven years ago, Tyonis Magstrom would have simply killed any who opposed his will. Now, he was reluctant to steal the few coins it took to purchase a barge ticket.
As he shadowed the Mi’qote, Tyonis could only smirk with mild amusement. From the age of ten, he lived as a street rat; barely surviving on Ul’dah’s bloodstained alleyways. Limsa Lominsa boasted ships, pirates, and sailors of the highest caliber, but their dedication to the art of thievery was woefully lacking. If the Miqo’te made such a blatant attempt at shoplifting in Ul’dah, he would have been run-through by sword and lance before his next breath. The boy was skilled and fast, but in Tyonis’ eyes, he was still a child.
Like a wolf winding through dense wood, Tyonis slid through the crowded streets, one eye locked on his target. The boy darted between the idle crowds with a grace that complemented his race, but Tyonis continued to stalk him like the mongrels he was aptly named after. Slowly, he closed the distance, careful not to approach too quickly, lest he alert the boy to his intent or disturb the boy’s focus on evasion.
As the Miqo’te barreled between a pair of bystanders, Tyonis saw him stumble and twist into a coarse recovery. That stutter in pace and stride was more than enough for Tyonis to finally leap out and reach forward; a single, strong hand aiming to clock the boy on the back of the neck.
Tyonis was not normally one for law-enforcement, but his desperation for Gil drove him to temporarily enlist as a mercenary guard. With all his claims and holdings in Ul’dah, Tyonis had no alternative but to find honest work for coin, lest he resort to thievery. Seven years ago, Tyonis Magstrom would have simply killed any who opposed his will. Now, he was reluctant to steal the few coins it took to purchase a barge ticket.
As he shadowed the Mi’qote, Tyonis could only smirk with mild amusement. From the age of ten, he lived as a street rat; barely surviving on Ul’dah’s bloodstained alleyways. Limsa Lominsa boasted ships, pirates, and sailors of the highest caliber, but their dedication to the art of thievery was woefully lacking. If the Miqo’te made such a blatant attempt at shoplifting in Ul’dah, he would have been run-through by sword and lance before his next breath. The boy was skilled and fast, but in Tyonis’ eyes, he was still a child.
Like a wolf winding through dense wood, Tyonis slid through the crowded streets, one eye locked on his target. The boy darted between the idle crowds with a grace that complemented his race, but Tyonis continued to stalk him like the mongrels he was aptly named after. Slowly, he closed the distance, careful not to approach too quickly, lest he alert the boy to his intent or disturb the boy’s focus on evasion.
As the Miqo’te barreled between a pair of bystanders, Tyonis saw him stumble and twist into a coarse recovery. That stutter in pace and stride was more than enough for Tyonis to finally leap out and reach forward; a single, strong hand aiming to clock the boy on the back of the neck.
