Frying Pan

T

his was it…his big break. No more assisting the petty thieves for only the rat’s share of wealth. It was funny how talkative some of them became when engaged and that is what tipped him off to the plans of a heist. A trading caravan was due to move North to Castle Stuart from Sussex. Many of the wolves dealt in trades of furs, meats, and other resources.

It sounded as though some sort of blockade was going to be placed in between here and their destination, but Valerian was an impatient lad. Why wait in joining up with the Thieves Guild to earn his place when he could steal what he could from the beginnings of the traders’ journey. By the time they even reached a blockade, there might not be so much left for the poor saps after he’d taken what he could! And then I, Valerian DeSoto, will be a true Legend of the Thieves Guild!

The thought tickled him and he grinned to himself as he scoped out his bounty from afar. It seems they were slowing down for the evening and stopping to rest after the first long day of travel. Valerian had flanked their movement from a reasonable distance and now that they stopped, he formulated his entrance.

Befriending the party and beguiling them with a performance or two would gain him favor and then he’d plan his next move form there. No one would suspect the overly-charismatic traveling bard of thievery! It was the ones who lurked in the shadows that most were wary of. It was a seamless plan, in his mind, and with that he began to gather himself up to make himself known.


@Pan

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

THREAD TITLE MUSE

P

an prowled, strength in each of his legs, muscles ripping casually as he strutted through the streets. Most would catch sight of him and look away—through no fault of his own, he did not look like the most friendly of peoples, scarred and mangled, a clear veteran of many fights. Whether he won or lost them was written in the language of skin healed over multiple times, even in the light of his blinded eye like moon risen in a tapestry of sky.

He raised his head, ears swiveling. “Aha,” he thought. The caravan was in town, just as his intelligence had reported, skins and furs, food and medicines, piled atop the wagons, drawn only by the strongest of wolves.

Pan was in good company. He was thief, and they would provide.

From the corner of the eye, he saw kin. He saw a lad, a young man, really, who seemed to have the same idea as he did, this glint in the eye of mischief and madness—pilfering from a whole caravan would certainly prove to be a challenge. The worse was the come if they were caught—perhaps they would be lucky if the imperial army was around to imprison them. It would certainly be better than being beaten within an inch of their lives.

He chuckled to himself as he trotted over toward the lad. “Aye, I see ye have fine taste,” he said quickly, nodding toward the caravan stacked high with high quality furs, likely pelts of mink. “Perhaps ye’d like t’ make it a wee team effort. What say you, laddie?”

@Valerian

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

M

ovement out of the corner of his eye caused him to turn to look at what approached. His expression contorted into one of momentary fright as he recoiled with the sight that emerged from the shadows. “Whoa, wh-” He stumbled a couple of steps back and peered around wondering why he hadn’t sensed the other presence until he was practically on top of him.

The elder male with the maimed visage introduced himself in a friendly manner enough. Valerian coughed and cleared his throat as he collected his wits, though is tongue seemed far behind his rational though still. “What happened to your…?” Halfway into his sentence he clamped his maw shut and shook his head as the hair along the back of his neck began to lay flat again. “Ehh, never mind…”

The bard narrowed his eyes suspiciously, attempting his best poker face which was pitiful for any wolf even familiar with the game. “You perform then?” He asked with a goofy half-smile that twitched at the corner of his mouth. He quickly deflated, letting a breath out that caused his lips to flap. “Is it truly that obvious what I’m planning?” He huffed and plopped himself down on his haunches.


@Pan

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

T

he interaction, the expression upon their young faces when he appeared—why, admittedly, Pan enjoyed it, this look of surprise that such a grizzled and grayed man could possibly exercise an element of grace and astonishment. If there were anything he learned in life and assumed to live by, he would never make judgments off of first impressions because they always changed.

“Me eye? Me face?” He snarled, thrusting himself closer to the lad so their noses nearly touched. “Ye dare ask someone wha’ happened t’ his face before even gettin’ t’ know him?” He awaited the reaction before pulling away. “I’m only teasin’ ye, laddie. The story o’ me scars is better left fer those who be stickin’ ‘round, survivin’ their purloinin’.”

He chuckled, winking with his blinded eye. “Perhaps one day, I’ll find ye worthy.”

“Now, let’s take a good look at wha’ we have here,” he said, noting the lad’s size and lithe form—it was useful for a thief, of course, but he wouldn’t be very strong in procuring the goods. Upon mentioning the art of performing, Pan scowled with a thoughtful nod. “Tha’ could be an idea. This mauled face o’ mine might just make a fine attraction, eh? And my melodious might just capture the attention of all these curious folks.”

Pan narrowed his eyes. “Obvious, that ye are. And what were ye thinkin’? Surely, ye came here with a plan?”

@Valerian

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

H

e shrunk back from he gruesome brute’s swift approach initially as it took him by surprise, but he started to square up albeit a bit hesitantly. “And what if I-” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “What if I do dare to ask yee about yer face?” His anxiety caused him to assimilate with the stranger’s way of speaking without quite meaning to. It was the actor in him after all, but he quickly realized this was likely a dangerous mistake.

When his threatening tone dissolved and he made his jest known, Valerian let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and chuckled nervously. “Phew! Wow, man, wow…my stars, you had me…near ready to piss myself, if I’m honest.” He nodded in agreement with the scarred man, his eyes still wide as he tried to bring himself back from his near-death experience. “Yes, of course…prove myself, yes…”

He shook his head zoning in back in and drawing upon his charisma as he fluffed out his chest. “Why I certainly do intend to hear this tale one day. As it would make for a ballad most enrapturing to an audience, surely! The world would be a far more interesting place with your tale being heard carried by an ocean’s breeze!” Valerian grinned and then attempted to stand taller as the pirate of a wolf took him in.

He copied the way the other man narrowed his eyes at him. “Clearly! What thief would show up without a plan! Ha!” He nearly laughed a little too loud and took his voice down a few notches. “You see, my scar-faced friend, performing is what I do. It is what I was born for…and now I use it as a means to an end…the best kind of distraction, if you will. Lure them in with my boyish good looks and silken vocals, befriend them, scope things out from there…and who knows, perhaps I might find something quite more valuable as an insider to this caravan.”


@Pan

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

W

hat had Pan done? The man enjoyed hearing himself talk, but rarely did he find such loquacious company among his band of thieves. It seemed that he had unlatched this gaping hole of a mouth, and the words that tumbled from them, while bold, were of a more timid nature. Pan could hear it in the tone.

“Oy, laddie, if yer goin’ t’ make a bluff, make sure ye have yer wits ‘bout ye, eh?” He grinned, as if to remind him relax, that he was in friendly company. Pan did not harm the innocent—his misadventures were reserved for the fine art of pilfering those who supported the throne, in particular those who were wealthy or in the service of the king.

Ah, he really did like to talk, and talk he did. This young man was a poet, Pan thought, a storyteller of some sort. Why, someone as good as with words, Pan could make use of that.

He tittered to himself for a few moments, thoughts churning in his mind. “Aye, laddie, I think I have just the job fer ye.” The stranger really was comical, the way he mimicked Pan’s expression. His type wouldn’t last long among a crew or band. “I’ll take ye up on yer offer. Want t’ prover yerself? Here’s yer chance.” Pan tilted his head toward the caravan, where wolves were ready to move in toward the city.

“Go on, then, laddie,” he said. “Ye do yer job, and I’ll swipe a few pelts. There’s a forest beyond the borders, a league or two away. Meet ye there?” Depending on how well things went, Pan may or may not be there.

@Valerian

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

T

he more experienced thief called his bluff. He wasn’t surprised. A child could probably have done it. Val narrowed his eyes until vibrant turquoise shown in mere slits, doing his best glare of suspicion as he raised his chin haughtily. “Perhaps that’x exactly what I want… He made a gesture with his paw prodding his temple. “For you to think I’m bluffing…” He raised his brows, though his eyes remained narrow, his expression rather comical in the way that an elderly person might have lost their spectacles.

There was no more time for his incredible feat of reverse psychology, especially when there was a job to be done. The shorter lad leaned in close to the ruffian, focused in on him before he sat up and grinned. “A-ha, of course you would take me up on my offer….who wouldn’t?” He smoothed a paw over the strands of fur that stuck up along his head and chest and gave his new partner in crime the ultimate smoulder. “I assure you, my esteemed future colleague…the proof…is in the poetry…” With that he hopped up, casting one more glance to the fearsome brute. “See you on the other side then, matey.” He bounded away, his tail held straight up and waving back and forth like a flag upon a mast.

Valerian confidently strode into the main center clearing where most of the travelers had gathered to share meals and converse as they rested. The pint-sized man was quickly assessed as someone not of their number, but he stole the words from their mouths before they could question his arrival. “Gentleman! And fairest ladies! It is quite the rarity to find such a gorgeous audience upon the road! Why, Luck is once again my lady this evening, I dare say!”

“What do’ye want, pipsqueak?”

A gruff voice sounded from one hulk of a wolf that sat among the group, clearly not impressed by the flourishing appearance of a bard of all encounters. “It is not what I want, my Lord, but what I can offer you!” The party all looked at each other with raised eyebrows and he continued, “All I ask is that you lend me your ears! For an entertainer’s only desire in life is to dazzle his spectators. And I could truly use constructive, (key word is constructive) criticism for I was on my way to perform for the Crown, in honor of the heir-to-be, of course!” He seemed to have their attention now and the over-sized man relented, nodding his head for Valerian to proceed.

“Hark! Dost thou hear the gentle thrumming of wings on the distant winds?
There cometh tidings of the new era of Kings and Queens, where war and misfortune all come to their ends…”

Valerian lowered his body, slinking about with a lowered tone of voice, pairing physical gestures and actions to his tale, to ensure he kept all eyes on him. This would allow for the dastardly, scarred man’s thievery to be far easier and this was what the bard did best.

“Fear not, my good folk of Rionnach, for thine destinies do lie within the apple of fair King Adam’s eye,
Generations shall sing, echoing choirs of angels that resounded the existence of this precious babe.”

Placing a paw on his chest, he began to sing dramatically, swaying to and fro with the momentum of his vocals.

“Glory to thy name, sweet lad or lass, Glory to thine reign for the new ages,
And Glory upon the fates, so long as your resemblance is of thy mother, Queen Daphne…”

Valerian leaned in towards the gathered crowd for an aside, “For we all know who’s features fare more pleasant upon the Kingdom’s eyes, if I dare speak the truth…”

This earned a few chuckles and snickers from his audience and he grinned with a wink, before he took a breath to begin his next bought of absolute impromptu nonsense.

@Pan

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck