Atzi, embarrassingly, had to beg Fence for a lockpick set. Fence reluctantly gave her one.
Then she waited until night fell.
Atzi did not approach the guard house from the front, avoiding the guard posted outside. I bet they don’t have anyone watching the wealthy side. She went two blocks over and up, wrapped her tail around the sack of cups, and clambered over the tall pointed fence into the rich district. She was careful not to pierce herself on the many spikes as she went over the top.
Her assumption proved correct when she saw the unguarded back door. It was there she noticed something special - a collection of thorny vines heading up the brickwork of the building, nearly all the way to the top. She had planned to climb the bricks to the top, as slow as it would have been, but this was a shortcut. It's better to move as quickly as possible so I don't get caught.
Relying on her scales to protect herself from the thorns, Atzi quickly climbed the vines. Despite her protection, she ascended too fast, the thorns digging between her scales. By the time she realized her mistake, it was too late, because with how much pain she was in she would surely let go and possibly break the cups. So she went even quicker, only making it hurt more.
She lifted herself onto the sight post at the top and ducked down, plucking out the thorns that had gotten stuck between her scales. Ow ow ow! Each one was its own torture, and she had a clawful of thorns by the time she was done. Needing somewhere to dispose of the evidence, she checked no-one was watching, then threw them onto a nearby roof.
Whoever put those thorns there should be thrown in jail!
She couldn’t do anything about the dull ache and itch still caught underneath. Just pay attention to the job. The sight post had a wooden hatch, chair, and small table. On the table was a plate of crumbs, a remnant of some guard’s lunch. The first thing Atzi did was listen at the hatch, hearing a low snoring from inside. Judging it safe, she grabbed the wooden hatch and opened it as little and silently as she could before sticking her head in to look inside.
A wooden ladder led into the room. The place had no light save for a small amount coming from two sources - the moonlight from Atzi’s own open hatch, and a soft lantern glow creeping up the wooden steps that lead downstairs. In this poor illumination, she could barely see the room’s many bunk beds, full of sleeping guards. Only one was empty, the covers half tossed off. Either belongs to the guy outside, or a guard is wandering the place. Need to keep an ear out. If I get caught it's over for me.
Atzi took the ladder down, gently lowering the hatch as she went. She made sure to keep her tail steady so the sack of cups wouldn’t hit anything. Once she had two clawed feet firmly planted, she slinked downstairs.
The light of the second floor revealed a rectangular room. There was a storage area to the left, a number of cabinets, barrels, and crates lining the three walls. What if there are valuables - no, focus on the job. Cups are probably in one of the cabinets. To the right of the stairs there was only a single door. The stairs briefly stopped on this floor, but further continued downward into a lit office area with many wooden desks.
She heard someone approaching from the right door.
Hide! Atzi scuttled to a corner between the stairs and cabinets, where a few barrels sat.
She slipped through them without a noise and hunkered down. It wasn’t a perfect hiding spot, as if someone looked over the side as they went up the stairs, they could trivially see her.
She held her breath.
A guard creaked up the stairs. C’mon, don’t look…
She stayed like this for ten seconds after the stairs no longer creaked.
Atzi slipped from behind the barrels and began opening cabinets, working slowly to eliminate all noise. The slightest amount was like thunder to her ears, but she had enough experience to know what only she could hear. On her fifth cabinet she found the cups the guards used. They were pretty similar to what Fence had made, cheap clay, but slightly bigger. I’ll need to take all their cups before adding mine to make sure they don’t stick out. Suddenly having way more cups that look off is way more suspicious than the current cups having small changes.
Atzi gathered out all the cups, again stacking them together so they wouldn’t make any noise, then took her own stack of cups out of the sack. She put in twelve, saving one for the bonus pay of sticking it in the captain’s room. She slid it on top of the stack of the ones she pulled out, to make sure she wouldn’t forget, and put them all back in the sack. After, she shook the sack just to be absolutely certain the cups wouldn’t make noise. Job done, she double checked that nothing looked off in the cabinet, then closed the door.
Can't waste too much time, but need to be extra careful for this part. She first investigated whether the room to the side was anything special, and knew it wasn’t when she smelled, then saw, the latrine. Next, she kept an ear out for anyone downstairs. She heard two guards talking about something she couldn’t quite make out.
Atzi gave the most furtive peek she could, spotting two guards at desks to the right of the large downstairs office. They were facing each other as they spoke, ignoring the quill-and-paperwork at their desks.
“Nobody told me the night shift meant paperwork.”
“Usually isn’t, but captain’s orders.”
The first guard gave a disapproving grunt. They continued back and forth like this.
Due to their perpendicular angle to the stairs, Atzi could make it down without being spotted - but if either of them so much as turned their head towards the stairs, they’d see her. The room was full of desks, all arranged in the same direction. There was a large hatch to a cellar labeled ‘Armory’ which would be impossible for her to reach, requiring going directly through the guards in the room, but that wasn’t her destination - that was to the left of the stairs, a door labeled ‘Officer’s Office’.
Do I risk it? I’d be out in the open… Atzi hesitated. She thought about how much she hated her current life, how much she wanted the money to live better. One gold would be gone in a few weeks. Two gold… if she was honest with herself, it’d be gone in the same amount of time, but that time would be better for it.
She hugged the left, as far as possible away from them, and crept.
You don’t see me. That’s right…
There was a creak to her step. No!
“Why do we need to be checking over everyone who enters the city, though?” The guards didn’t hear her over the sound of their own conversation, much to Atzi’s relief.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
The second she met the floor she banked to the left, hiding herself in a nook between the stairs and the wall, finding a few crates pressed in there. She was tantalizingly close to her target door, but trying to open it meant further exposing herself to the possibility that either of the guards simply turned their heads.
Their conversation was still going. She decided to move.
Atzi tried the doorknob - locked, so she pulled out her lockpicking case and began to work.
Atzi had been a terrible student, back home. They tried to teach every kid magic on top of their regular education, to see who had any talent for it, but whether it was magic or school, Atzi wasn’t capable of either. Despite both being mages, her parents didn’t try to help. Instead, they ignored her by shoving her into an apprenticeship with a locksmith. So when she ran away to Sostra, she had the perfect skill set for quick and easy money.
I wonder if mom even cares.
The lock was one of the fancier ones she’d worked on, having to balance several pieces at the same time as she made her way through the complex mechanism.
“I’m going to go get some water. Want some?”
“I’ve a better idea. Go get some cups.”
No! Go faster, you stupid lock!
Atzi thought about diving back into her hiding spot, but it would lose all her progress on the lock. She hated having to start over, to try again. I should get it right the first time! I won't fail!
A chair screeched.
She had maybe a few seconds...
"Damn, prepared for it, huh? Alright, I'll go."
Got it!
She slipped in and closed the door. Footsteps carried up steps, telling her she had made it in by the narrowest margin.
The officer’s office - Atzi thought the name sounded stupid - was a lot nicer looking than the rest of the guardhouse. There was a single ornate desk, a few wooden cabinets, a painting of a riverside, and a door labeled ‘Private Quarters’.
She probably keeps her cups in there.
The desk had various important looking papers on it which Atzi couldn’t help but be distracted by. They were labeled ‘Stolen Spellbook’, ‘Refugee Orders’, ‘Festival Week Orders’, ‘Complaints’, and many more that looked far less important.
Atzi had hitherto prioritized moving as quickly as she could, as anything could go could go wrong at any moment, but she couldn't help but be interested. I could get some juicy info... just one can’t hurt.
She was careful not to touch the papers, glancing down at the one labeled ‘Festival Orders’.
“No guards are to drink or gamble during this time.
Extra postings for the religious district - non applicable to branch.
Extra postings for the market district.
Extra postings for the arena.
Record all entrants to city.
Head of Guard shared orders from Arch Priestess Malus - all Pomarian officials to be allowed free movement through city.
-Commander Brea”
Pomarian officials? Like the council? Every nation within the Empire had its own internal governance, and Atzi’s home was ruled by a council of mages. Her mother was a member, though a low level one back when Atzi left. I really hope she isn’t going to show up.
Thumps told Atzi someone was going back down the stairs, so she ignored the further notes and went to the private quarters. She listened at the door and heard nothing this time, so she tried the door and found it unlocked.
There was a bed with neatly made sheets and, beside it, a cupboard and sheathed claymore. There’s no way I’d be able to make it out with it, but it’d be great money if I could. She headed directly for the cupboard and opened it up.
There were several cups inside, and none of them matched the one Atzi had. They were too ornate, actually molded and glazed to look good.
That spoils the whole plan… unless…
Atzi took the fancy cups out and set them in front of her. She drooled her poison into them, knowing unlike the incident at the inn, it shouldn’t eat through. Her poison only ate through things like wood and cloth, living materials - and was pretty nasty for people, too. Then she rubbed the poison into the inside until it was no longer visible, but definitely still present. The point’s to make them sick, so this should still count. Plus it’s so satisfying to spit into the commander’s cups!
Done, she put the cups back. Time to get out of here! She made it out of the private quarters, but when it was time to leave the office, she overheard a woman’s voice. One Atzi recognized.
“Why is the armory open?” asked Commander Brea.
Fuck! But maybe that’s an opportunity to leave… Atzi had another choice to make - try to hide somewhere in the office, which had no good spots, or exit the room for a known good one but risk being seen immediately.
She decided to risk it, slinking out.
Atzi would have been caught then and there, if not for the fact that the commander had dragged the two officers away from their desks, over to the open armory hatch. Atzi didn’t waste a moment in slipping out, closing the door, and scurrying behind the crates.
“And if you don’t take out every bottle of booze you hid in there, I’ll not just kick you out, I’ll shove you in a cell myself!”
“Yes ma’am!”
She’s going to be drinking poison soon. Atzi grinned despite her nerves. Enjoy that indirect kiss. Wait, no, don’t think about it like that.
Brea thumped over to her office door and stuck her key into the lock.
…The lock. Shit.
The guard commander hummed in confusion.
Atzi’s heart hammered in her chest. She pressed herself as low as she could go and went entirely still.
I can't go back to jail.
Her lungs burned from holding her breath.
I need this money.
Her muscles ached to move.
I need my life back!
“Get it together, Brea,” the guard commander muttered to herself, then stepped inside.
Yes! Atzi greedily breathed.
All she needed was to leave. After checking the coast was clear - the two guards were down in the armory - she flowed back up the two sets of stairs, soundlessly went up the hatch, and took the bricks slowly down to safety, barely keeping herself from falling from how bad she was shaking.
I’m the greatest! She almost yelled in excitement before clamping a hand over her mouth. Victory!
Atzi scampered over the fence and back home. On the way, she saw a group of hooded figures leading a covered cart.
Their robes were plain so as to not stand out, but Atzi could immediately tell they were members of the Pomarian council from the tails sticking out, their scales the dulled sheen of elders. The only exception was the person leading them, Head Marshmistress Saera. Between her bright green scales and distinctive smoking pipe, it was impossible to mistake her for anyone else. Even though Atzi had never spoken with her, she was the most famous person back home beside the Water herself. She looked about thirty, but Atzi knew she was much older. Perk of being a nature mage. Which meant those following her must have been the council necromancers.
The order on that desk… I’ll have to gossip about this with Fence.
She made sure to not be spotted by them - she was still carrying contraband, after all - and finished her way home, where she stashed the cups under her floor. Need to figure out what to do with the last lead cup. Can’t sell it. Maybe I can convince Fence to take it back? She resolved to figure it out tomorrow. But still… two whole gold is mine!
She was awake for another hour yet on nerves and imagination, but soon after fell asleep.
She dreamed of wealth.
===
The next afternoon, she woke up to a heavy banging noise.
She checked out her window.
A guard pounded on her neighbor’s door.
“Shit!” she hissed.
Why’s there a guard here?!