Early morning in Solterra’s main city was an avid culmination of heat, noise and scent, an inharmonious orchestra to assault the senses. The sun beamed down, annoyingly merry even in Fall as the sandstone buildings were bathed in a myriad of yellows and oranges. Day started early in Solterra, when the warmth of the sun was not yet unbearable, and even as the sun still hovered just above the mesas of Elatus Canyon in the distance, the streets were already crowded. From the market the sumptuous odour of spices and perfumes filled the air, mouth-watering and sweet. Voices, the calls of venders and chatter of shoppers, rose with the heat like fire, dancing upon the air.
Na’eemah threaded her way leisurely through the streets, weaving artfully among the busy bodies that blocked the way. Carried by the ebb and flow of the crowds the sun-kissed femme found herself wandering between various fruit stalls, her nose twitching with the pungent scent of the sweet food, ripening swiftly beneath the sun’s smile.
This morning she was dressed only in the sheer scarf that protected her head from the sun, and did something to hide her identity. Nary a gaze was cast her way, for Naya blended in well with the sand-dust equines who perused the market, there was no need to cast her a second glance. Though perhaps the luscious brown locks that cascaded from beneath her scarf gleaned a look or two for though she appeared perfectly ordinary, there was no disguising her exotic beauty. But, no one would connect the tan femme with the lesser known noblewoman, the rich girl with a penchant for luxury and leisure.
Though her pace was unhurried, her direction unobvious, Na’eemah had a purpose, a reason for being in the market that day where the sand and dirt clung obnoxiously to her hooves and ankles and the unshielded heat made her head ache dizzyingly. A few streets away was a quiet little courtyard where she would meet with a contact to discuss business, but for now the young femme was happy to meander the streets in a beeline, taking her time. Keep him waiting.
Early mornings really weren’t his scene. Typically Roshan avoided taking jobs when the streets were so empty. Of course, they honestly weren’t, but compared to when he usually made his rounds, the amount of individuals mingling or shoving their way down the sandstone streets were abysmal. Alas, his contact was very specific in their demands about this particular job, and apparently this was one of the only times he could complete it.
Mingling in the shadows, Roshan’s mahogany eyes watched the faces that passed by, not yet spotting the poor son of a bitch he was about to set up. The thief leaned casually against the roughly textured sandstone side of a building, humming softly to himself, wings tucked close to keep Bandit out of view from curious eyes. The ferret-dragon sat poised between the crook of Roshan’s mottled wings with a rather curious roll of parchment clutched in his teeth, waiting to strike upon the right distraction.
The client had paid Vendetta a good sum of signos to get this man removed from the equation of the Solterran economy, and he was going to do just that. A bit of strife within the noble families was all he need, knowing that Bandit had a great sleight of hand to deposit a condemning letter within whatever bag or sash the portly fellow might sashay on by with. An appaloosa fellow, white with the occasional black spot inevitably showed up on the other end of the alley, humming his own tune. Vendetta’s description matched the lout to the letter, and with a spreading, dangerous grin, Roshan slunk from the shadows and approached.
He moved at a casual pace, confident and cocky, and did not even try to move out of the other stallion’s way. They collided in a mess of limbs and unsavory curse words, the appaloosa fellow stumbling over himself and rounding about to face Roshan with a look of fury in his eyes. The painted thief only offered him a shrug and a cocksure grin, the mahogany depths of his eyes glittering mischievously. “Sorry, sir,” he apologized immediately without sounding like he meant it, which he didn’t, feeling Bandit slink down the back of his croup and take to the skies, the pegasus spreading his own wings out to cover the ferret-dragon as he departed, “Gotta watch out for all of the horse shit in here.”
Leaning closer, spotting Bandit deftly depositing the letter into the satchel at the appaloosa’s side from the corner of his eye, Roshan smirked and chuckled. ”I hear it all belongs to the new King, so full of shit as he is.”
Honestly, Roshan didn’t care if this man was a supporter of His Illustrious Majesty, the Pig-Headed King Raum. The thief wanted to see Raum burn on a pike, and he hoped, prayed that it would happen. That piece of shit was a waste of Solterran space. The poor fool sputtered as though surprised by Roshan’s words, but with a flick of a tail he was moving on, shoving his way down the alleyway. The young paint let him go, watching him with a growing grin of ill intent. Bandit spun about in the air and then moved to land upon Roshan’s shoulders, seeming quite pleased with himself.
“Good job, Bandit,” he praised, turning about to head down the opposite alleway, “V will be happy.” Or, as happy as Vendetta could be, anyway.
Turning down the end of the alleyway, rounding the corner of sandstone and dust, Roshan damn near collided into a dusty colored woman adorned in a silk shawl. He balked, taking a step to the side, and damn near avoided running into her, face first. Luckily he was able to narrowly avoid her and turned a bit, mahogany eyes glittering beneath the growing early sunlight. With a shit-eating grin he laughed, loud and boisterous. “Sorry, sorry! Didn’t see you there.” Which was funny, because he actually meant it this time. The woman was a pretty thing; a nimble buckskin with lovely curls peeking out from beneath the red shawl she wore. He caught symbols of the sun upon the end of the shawl, and self consciously shifted away so that the symbol of the yellow sun upon his left pectoral was turned away from her.
“Are you alright? I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
