From Sand and Ashes, Part 1: Away [OOC Welcome] - Printable Version +- Hydaelyn Role-Players (https://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/mybb18) +-- Forum: Role-Play (https://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/mybb18/forumdisplay.php?fid=27) +--- Forum: Town Square (IC) (https://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/mybb18/forumdisplay.php?fid=21) +--- Thread: From Sand and Ashes, Part 1: Away [OOC Welcome] (/showthread.php?tid=12859) |
From Sand and Ashes, Part 1: Away [OOC Welcome] - Devyn Piper - 08-05-2015 Ashwin Fowler had been at it for years, sneaking about and stealing minor amounts of food, gil, or whatever else he could turn into food or gil with minimal risk. He was comfortable in his work and knew how to blend in, how to lean on the counter while examining a shop’s wares and leave with an item in his palm, how to disappear around a corner no matter how near the pursuit. He’d been caught before, sure, but that was years ago and the consequences, like the culprit, had been small. Now... now he was observant,careful, smart. He wasn't a master thief, not by any definition of the word, but he had no desire to be. This was about survival, both for him and for his family.  Turning, he slipped into one of Ul'dah's many alleys, this one linking the smaller side street he was on with Emerald Avenue. From either end it looked like any other alley but, by some quirk of building design Twelve knew how many years before, this one had a small alcove that was perfect for disappearing from sight. Crouching there in the deep shadows of the almost unknown alcove he reached into the pile of rubbish that had seemingly existed longer than his own 14 years and retrieved a small pack. From this he drew a waterskin, which he used to quickly wash his hands and face, and a fresher set of clothes than the beggars rags he wore. The youth changed and, now free from his disguise, emerged into the lamp-lit bustle of Emerald Avenue. * * *
The occasional calls of the local wildlife were the only sound competing with the crunch of Ashwin's shoes on the path as he turned towards the nameless settlement where his family kept their home. The darkness was near complete, the only light coming from the stars and a mere sliver of Dalamud hanging just over the horizon. He knew the path by feel as much as sight, however, and soon he found himself nearing the dark clump of huts and tents huddled in the shelter of one of Thanalan's many rocky outcroppings. No light flickered through windows or doorways as he approached - the people here were too poor to burn candles - but the sudden glow of a lantern in the direction of the house he shared with his family made him dart behind a nearby tent rather than press on. "That's enough, Fowler!" came the gruff voice from up ahead as Ashwin crouched there in the darkness. "We know it was one o' yer brats what nicked that bottle, an' we aim to have it back!" Ashwin felt the blood drain from his face and his heart sink into his stomach as he recognized the voice of Harald, one of the most notoriously corrupt Brass Blades. And the bottle could only mean the small bottle of medicine he'd taken earlier that night, thinking to have it on hand for when one of the family got sick. Only Harald and, yes, that smaller figure was probably his partner Nonokodo, weren't sent after potions or hi-potions. Whatever he'd pocketed was something much, much bigger than that. His fingers wrapped around it unconsciously and he realized he'd missed some of the heated conversation in his panicked reverie. Certainly, the fearful whimpers of his mother and the twins had grown in intensity. He knew he'd heard his father's voice as well, though he didn't know what Wermund Fowler had said. "-it back, we'll still take the price of it out on you lot!" It was Harald again, this time with a joy in his voice, and that was accented by the rasp of a blade leaving its scabbard. "No, you ca-" Wermund began to cry out, but that was all the protest he made before the shout was turned into a gurgle, and the whimpers of his family were turned into screams. Ashwin Fowler never knew what happened next. Ashwin Fowler - no, he'd need a new name now, wherever it was he was headed - couldn't hear a thing above the pounding of his heart in his ears and the pounding of his feet on the dusty desert rock. No, he didn't know where he was headed, but he knew exactly where he was running. He was running away. |