A sluggish feeble-looking handsome young man, with light bronze skin, deep emerald eyes, and ivory black hair sat in the corner of a wobbly slave wagon. Eyes staring at the top roof of poorly kept transport vehicle, trying to burn a hole through the canvas sheet.
'when is this damn thing going to stop?'
The man thought about the last time he got shoved onto this abominable slaver transport. He grimaced when it came to mind, palming his face as if to remind himself of a mistake.
'I should have kept my mouth shut.'
A couple day's earlier this young man seems to be wearing a tattered hooded robe, slowly swaying left and right so noticeably that people thought he was sick, but to those of the thieving nature could see it was an act. One so well put that most just assume he is a sick beggar on the brink of collapse. As such a very well put trader, arrayed head to toe in jewelry, fine silked robes, and a hat to avert the desert heat, was just Trading away without a single care in the world, oblivious to the approaching individual.
As wind blew slightly up at hood of the young man, a small smirk could be seen just for a moment.
' alright Seth just another one to get you through the week.'
Bumping shoulder first into the trader and falling weakly, putting on his best act of a weak and sick individual on full display.
" I apologize sir!. My vision seems to be failing me these days."
The trader glared at the young man , scoffing at Seth. The tone that was used in the scoff was one Seth has heard many times. That of disgust and disdain, he was used to that look, but it still somewhat annoyed him.
" get yourself going boy, your insidious stench is going to contaminate the air I breathe."
'wow don't sugarcoat it do ya?'
Seth weakly got up and nodded, people whispering pitiful words, others made fun of him for this unfortunate accident. As if fate was on Seth's side the act worked very well. In his hand under his robe was the trader's bag of money. Now walking away slowly, turning from a limping walk into a full sprint through the crowd of people.
' easiest steal of my life'
Dodging left and right, curving through alley ways, avoiding spots where patrol men are walking, and finally reaching a makeshift hideout that most homeless vagrants build in this desert city.
"home sweet.…actually it's just a shack."
Seth shrugged and sighed, heading into the shack and blocking the way in so he could have some privacy.
" well let's see today's haul."
Pulling out the somewhat decently heavy bag, Seth let it drop to the floor spewing its shiny contents for the young thief to peruse through. On the floor Infront of Seth laid a copious amount of gemstones, gold, rings and much more one can assume to find on a wealthy trader.
"…this is quite a lot to be carrying around for one measly trader?. But then again he was rather well kept."
Though one particular and odd little item was sticking out from most of the others.
' what's this?'
Pulling up the object, soon revealing it to be a necklace. Actually, it was more like a compass, with an eerie looking jackal that seemed to be staring down at a river.
"creepy. What kind of trader carries this around?."
Seth shrugged and kept it aside.
" No matter, it will sell for a decent price to someone… I hope"
After a couple minutes of sorting. He has compiled each item into sections, one for money he can use to buy food, another for auctioning and the last pile.. well, it was designated to be determined, since it was just a bunch of creepy looking items.
"hmm overall looks like I won't starve this week. If he doesn't come around."
"hey-hey what's this."
Seth shudder , turning his head in the direction of the voice. There was one thing Seth hated doing and that was interacting with other people, but this one he especially despised. Dawning a set of mismatched gloves, slight proper shirt and legging, a tattered robe with minor holes that had seen its best day, and finally to make his appearance almost convincingly friendly was a smile. Not just a smile but a smile of a conman.
' why god? Why now of all times.'
Seth sighed with a lack of enthusiasm soon shooting a glare at the man.
" hello Grift."
The last person, yet the only one that can talk to him without much effort, and his only friend that is allowed to call him.
" cursed blood! how was today's target?."
oh, how that name makes Seth's blood boil every time he was reminded of it.
'Cursed blood….annoying'