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He was glad to be back in Baldur's Gate again, and even happier the others were willing to let him go to 'see his master at the hall of wonders'. Skip stood in a dark and familliar alley, away from the eyes of passerbies. He was examining his belongings.
They were nothing but what he had on him, for the mage would likely have sold everything else he had once ownned by now.
He had his daggers, and the short sword of whatshisname still. The ring Secretmaster gave him was tucked away deeply into his pocket, right next to the bag of darts he had 'found'. He still owned the clothes he wore, travelstained as they were. And he had a spare pair of trousers, still clean. On top of that, three coppers and half a loaf of stale bread. His clothes were covered in the dust he had taken from the underdark as a drow scimitar. Besides the dust, the only thing constantly reminding him of his recent journey was the place on his cheek where the waspwoman had kissed him. He could still feel it, and didn't like it one bit. It was a mark of sorts, he decided.
Looking down on his sparse belongings, he quickly reachedthe conclusion he would have to steal tonight. Or rather, right now. He had already picked a suitable target, and old home with shuttered windows, yet with hardly any dust on the door.
Skip crept through the small yard, only to discover it was no use trying to hide in broad daylight. Instead, he backed out and walked casually to the door. Taking a deep breath, he knocked. No reply. Skip tried the door. It was open, and silently swung inwards.
Slowly, carefully, Skip entered the room, closing the door behind him. He paused, waiting for a sound. When he heard nothing, Skip let his breath out and took a fresh one. Then he proceded to check each room in turn, expecting to be discovered at any moment.
Most rooms held simple drawers or cabinets, all filled with cheap, useless junk, a copper or two, paperwork or a dead mouse. If they held anything at all. It was always the same inevery home he entered. Noone seemed to posess anything of value.
As he peered into the last room, he was finally convinced there was noone at home. He looked past glass cages to a couple of chests at the other side of the room. He moved over and tried the first. It had a lock. He picked it. AS he opened the chest and looked at it's contents, a sense of foreboding crept over him. He tore his gaze from the herbs and potions and scrolls and turned around just in time to watch an object coming down on his head, wielded by a man in a flowing green robe. His eyes rolled upward, and he vaguely noticed spiders and snakes in the cages, befoer everything went black.
Skip awoke with a headache, feeling sick and broken. He bumped along in what e thought to be a carriage. As the thief was about to throw up, he heard a man's voice muttering strange words. Seconds later, Skip was lost in a deep, restless sleep.
OOC: Would you believe it, I've been caught by flood control!
At the same time, Skip's being moved to a lonely castle in the middle of the howling wilderness...
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