"This is a terrible idea… A really, really terrible idea. Why am I doing this?" Shiloh was sitting in a shadow upon a rooftop, keeping low. In her hands was a crumpled piece of parchment, a job request which she had taken two weeks ago from the Winking Mermaid in Adeluna. The notice had been neatly written in very fine print explaining the details of the offer, to the point that it even continued onto the back of the paper. To summarize, this person wanted help in reclaiming a precious item from a certain someone in Vilpamolan. Now if this was something about a lost bracelet or locket, she wouldn't have even bothered. She wasn't some kind of clairvoyant who could locate items through vaguely magical means. This time it was about a priceless statue in the shape of a life-sized bird of prey, cast from pure silver and adorned with precious jewels. Aside from the long-winded story of the treasure's history that led up to the explanation of its name as the 'Karithian Kestrel', the real reason why the person wanted it was even more bizarre. It said something about how it would bring about certain doom should it fall into the wrong hands and be used for evil. Then there was the obligatory line of 'I can't tell you exactly why it's so important, but please recover it at all costs anyway', which was basically an excuse for wasting half of the front page on pointless exposition.

Nobody had taken the notice's offer since it had been up on the job board for a week, and by then everybody thought it was just a very poorly written practical joke. So no one noticed when she took it down out of curiosity, and decided to track down the individual who had posted such a ridiculous thing in the first place. The person's initials and a location was conveniently listed at the bottom of the miniature novella in the making, so she started her search there. She traced the address to a small apartment that belonged to a reclusive made from Iria, who came to the door with a misshapen tin bowl on his head and a pair of thick goggles. Apparently no one else had visited him since the posting, thus he immediately believed she was here to take on the job in spite of her protesting. When she tried to ask why he wanted the bird statue and why it was so important, he instead repeated a rehashed version of the same story he had written on his posting, which left her with the same questions she had before. After much goading and threatening at knife-point, she managed to get the old coot to say that the statue had a secret which made it far more valuable than the metal and jewels it was made of. The bird statue, if used in a dark ritual, would grant the user the ability to open a portal to the depths of the Infernos, which by now she had come to understand was a very bad thing.

When she had turned to leave, the man offered to pay her a considerable sum of money–which she promptly denied. As she continued to walk further, he kept raising the amount for the reward, until she finally accepted just to make him stop yelling. Several days later, she was within the walls of the den of scum and villainy incredibly irritated and questioning her own sanity. Oddly enough, the tin-bowl hatted man's intel was surprisingly on point. The bejeweled bird was currently in the possession of a pirate captain with his ship's Jolly Roger being a pair of sabers beneath a bird's skull. That particular pirate then traded it off to another pirate for a set of new brand-new cannons and a galleon. After an extensive trail of the statue's change in ownership, the final link in the chain was a man living in one of the more protected areas of the pirate districts. Thankfully, the current owner was not a pirate lord, but he still had a great deal of clout for someone who let hired thugs do his dirty work. To further complicate things, the pirate lord occupying the territory he was in was not the thick-headed brute archetype, but one who considered himself a man of wealth and taste. They were still pirates, but classy pirates. Her chance came when said pirate lord decided to hold a gala for all of his loyal crewmen and all who acknowledged his authority. While the majority of the seadogs were busy getting themselves completely plastered on good quality alcohol, Shiloh snuck into the target's manor thanks to the lax security around the perimeter. However once she was within the halls she ran into an entirely different problem: traps.

Unfortunately this man was intelligent, and had implemented a security system in addition to his well-paid squadrons of guards. The men themselves were nothing special, but once she was inside the more private chambers the absence of hired thugs made goosebumps break out all over her skin. A good rogue knew that if the path to a guarded item was too easy, something was definitely wrong. A careful scan over the immediate area revealed a very thin tripwire that she would have missed had she barged straight in. Once she went through the painstaking process of disarming every single trap she could find, she quickly swapped the bird with something close to it in weight and bagged it in an empty sack. She must have taken far longer than she had thought, as she heard the sound of voices coming her way. Slipping out of the manor, her face went pale when she saw several pirates walking the formerly empty streets before the gala was supposed to end. 

Why are they back outside? Wait, the gala's not supposed to end until after sundown! They weren't supposed to leave early! I knew I should've checked the time while I was in there–I took too long disarming all of the traps in the security system. Hold on, are they sober or drunk? If they're drunk, then I should still be fine–nope, nope, nope he's definitely still sober. That one's completely sober. This is bad, this is really bad. I thought everybody was supposed to be attending the festivities. Since when are there pirates that don't come back drunk after a party?


Stuck beside her spot of shadow beside a chimney, her anxiety levels were rising as seconds ticked by. The longer she waited, the more pirates would be back on the streets, and the lower her chances of escaping without detection would be. A distraction, anything big would be nice about now. She couldn't wait too long as eventually they would discover the bird was missing, and then that would open a new can of worms.

news of a party of pirates interested Vinsue. if there was ever a time to have fun with them now would be it. she had dressed in her most festive attire. her long skirt and shirt a matching brown with long sleeves tightly clung to her skin. the skirt's one side touched her feet as the other touched her knees. both had 3 rows of coins hanging from them. they clicked as she walked wich alerted the men to who ran to meet her. She smiled as they both stopped dead in there tracks they knew who she was. they did not attack so she sent a charge thew them and set off again.

[ooc: Apologies for the delay.]

An absence of an overlord doesn't mean a domain ceases to exist; just the same as bounties don't stop even if a formerly infamous hunter retires and is forgotten. I rarely hunted anymore after I returned to Revaliir for a second time, especially since my reputation as of that moment was just a vapid remnant of what it once had been. Yet the bounties didn't stop just because I wasn't taking them anymore; and there was always the occasional artifact hunt that cropped up amongst the fold. I rarely paid attention to those notices anymore, and yet somehow I always found myself in the middle of them through no fault of my own.

One such hunt occurred in the early days of Igneus during a particularly busy year. I had gone to visit Vilpamolan for the day on a whim, bringing snacks with me to kill time. Later that afternoon, I decided to have a meal on top of a rich man's manor, high enough up that I could gaze out on the city's dilapidated state. It was strangely quiet at that time, and there were barely any guards passing by. For the most part, I was left to my own devices: able to eat my meal in peace while being shrouded beneath a hooded, brown overcoat.

That situation changed partway through the event, however. Guards started coming back from wherever they had been, and a new scent popped up on the rooftop. With SAI's help, I was able to determine that a female thief was the source of that scent, but I could barely do anything about her presence before the most recent guard arrival noticed me.

"Hey, what are you doing up there," one their group exclaimed?! His gaze shot up to me at first, but flitted away for a brief moment in order to look at his companions. During that small window of chance, I took the opportunity to vanish under cover of invisibility. The others looked up afterward, but saw nothing.

"Hmm," one colleague grunted after the fact? He had been tempted to believe his companion, at first, but seeing as they were both pirates, his trust only went so far. He quickly turned to making fun of the man who seemingly cried wolf."What are you talking about, you loon," he sneered?

But his friend couldn't believe his ears. He started up again without even looking to see if I was there or not.

"Are you blind? Can't you see the-?" Then he finally noticed. He rubbed his eyes, and then sheepishly asked, "Where'd she go?" Yet the others just waved him off.

"You need to lay off the hookah. You're seeing things." Meanwhile, I had actually slipped across the rooftop closer to where the thief was.  Another interloper grabbed the attention of those guards shortly thereafter, so there was no reason to go anywhere else. I just kept relaxing on the rooftop next to the thief, daintily sipping on a glass of red wine.

"Sheesh," I spoke while allowing my invisibility to dissipate. I had changed my hair to black by this point and polymorphed my appearance into that of a common, human woman. All of this was in an effort to reduce the amount of shock I delivered to my guest. Sadly, I still gave off my typically enigmatic personality as I talked, but that was an acceptable cost to pay as I continued. "I'm just trying to enjoy my pre-dinner meal. It's not that much to ask." Shooting a glance at the thief, I raised my hand to greet her and then gazed at the bag she was holding. Since it wasn't magically shielded, it didn't stand up to my abilities, and I was able to see right through to the kestrel hidden within. I noticed the 'v' on its base and involuntarily chuckled a bit after realizing my guest's predicament. "You know, that statue is actually the wrong one if you're looking for the ritual twin. The one you're holding is a prank, a clone that was made to hide the original; and said original has long been misplaced for centuries. Most people just assume the one you're holding is the real thing because it's quite… unique; and, to a lot of people, unique means powerful." She would find out what I meant by that warning soon enough, but, for my part, I just kept lounging on the roof while being prepared to hide again at a moment's notice.

[OOC: Welcome to the thread CodeAni! Now everyone's accounted for, let's get the ball rolling!]

Shiloh's body involuntarily flinched at the discovery of someone suddenly beside her. Beneath the white full-faced mask she had on, she was grinding her teeth as to not chew her own lip. The mask she had was something she had picked up from a travelling vendor in Adeluna to be used for this very purpose, and was very bland and unoriginal. It was something you could find anywhere, which was exactly why she had bought it. That was the entire point of having it; it stood out less and concealed her identity. Her hands clamped onto the bulging bag containing her prize as she listened to what this mystery woman was saying. "…Wait what?" The news left her completely dumbfounded. If her ears weren't deceiving her, apparently the statue she had successfully lifted from that mansion wasn't even the real thing and that finding the real statue was nigh-impossible since nobody knew where it was. It took her a few seconds for Shiloh's brain to cycle through the stages of realization.

So she had taken a request, from a man whose mental state was highly questionable, and was sent on a wild goose chase–for a replica. A replica. In other words, a fake. Her mind glossed over the mention of it being unique for a replica, as it fixated on the 'replica' part and that was the last straw that finally pushed her patience beyond its limit. All of the frustration, disbelief, inconvenience, irritation, and the risk she had put herself through to ensure she avoided detection just for this bleeding fake imitation statue of a bejeweled bird came crashing down like a tidal wave in hurricane season. Seething with rage, she hissed through her mask barely containing her anger from boiling over. "…Are you kidding me? Are…you…kidding me?! I went through all that trouble to come here, track it down, wait for a perfect opportunity to sneak in, and disarm every single trap in that safe room for a copy?!" The volume of her voice was still low, but it was clear that she was no longer angry, but absolutely furious. Her mind was reeling from the sheer amount of animosity she was having towards that crazy old man right now. It was all because of him. If he hadn't goaded her into accepting the offer out of exasperation, all of this would have never happened. Instead she would be doing a dozen other jobs much less life-threatening and saner than this, with a higher reward turnover rate. And right now she wouldn't be crouching in the shadow of a chimney in the middle of a pirate-infested district.

At this point she was ready to throw the accursed bird into a ditch and lie that she didn't find it. She didn't care that it was made of silver and coated in precious stones. It was a huge silver plated, jewel-encrusted red herring that had been far less worth the effort  that she had expended. She was so mad that she didn't even notice the pirates' attention being diverted by the appearance of a familiar woman in a rather noisy choice of attire. She almost decided to forget with stealth and run down anybody who got in the way, but then remembered that would mean getting caught with said statue and making enemies of the entire district in a single day. Sure they might not be able to catch her individually, but what they lacked in skill they made up for with sheer numbers. Besides, she wasn't feeling pessimistic enough to think of burning the whole place to the ground yet.

Returning her attention to the woman who had so kindly informed her of the futility of her entire endeavor, she asked: "Why are you telling me all this? What do you want from me? You could've decided not to tell me the bird was fake." People didn't just magically appear out of thin air to give you conveniently helpful information just because. There was a catch somewhere, she thought. Nobody would give such valuable advice for free.

 The hushed whispers got her attention so she looked around. not seeing anyone she continued walking. the ships and her target was not far off. Between her and it was no problems so she made it in no time. She claimed a house at the waters edge. She hid on the roof and focused her energy into a ball of electricity around the nearest pirate ship. She closed her eyes and forced the energy to attract a bit to fast causing it to explode.

She winched at the sound and looked around. No one had came at a run so she turned back to the ships. She than did the same with more care. knowing that those explosions where going to get her caught and knowing that the move took a lot of energy she switched to using fire on the next three. hearing some men shouting she decided it was time to leave. she ran across the roofs and jumping. she stopped after she noticed she was not the only one on the roof and almost laughed as she realized that she knew the one. she looked back over her shoulder than whispered a simple spell and her attire switched to a brown robe with long sleeves its hood up.

Thieves, in my experience, typically have a fight or flight response when they are caught in the middle of a heist. The most common reaction is to run, while the second most common is to attack and silence all witnesses. Rarely will the person engage in conversation except in such cases where they need a distraction; and yet there I was on the rooftop of a Vilpamolan estate with a person who did just that.

I could understand Shiloh's frustration in those moments. She had gone through a great deal of trouble to retrieve the kestrel – as she quickly explained – but had never once considered that the object she was retrieving was just a fake. Her anger at the whole ordeal was palpable, though I clearly didn't share in it given my lackadaisical behavior. I just shrugged, taking another sip of wine before answering with a, "Pretty much."

Then came the typical, "Why are you helping me," spiel. In truth, I hadn't really considered a reason to help her by that point, especially since it was just a matter of whimsy that I was up on that rooftop in the first place. This woman was either destined for an imminent end or some duration of infamy, and, frankly, I had no interest in interfering either way. I had no reason for why I relocated next to her except that it was the most convenient hiding place at the time, so I could only answer her questions with another question.

"And why not," I eventually asked? "I used to be a treasure hunter myself and still enjoy talking about the artifacts of the world. In the end, what you do with that relic is of no importance to me. I was just trying to have lunch and you happened to be in the same place at the same time." Finishing the last of my wine, I continued with a sidelong stare at Shiloh. "Besides, even if the statue IS a replica, most people you give it to will think that it's the real thing and that the ritual instructions they have are just mistranslated. The singing is commonly thought of as a quirk and nothing more. You can easily still use it for your job, especially if your client isn't particularly…level-headed. Take it from a veteran who has done that before."

I decided to leave out the fact that I knew exactly where the original kestrel was and had actually found it before. Such information was tied directly to my time as the deity of secrets, and would likely result in constant badgering from Shiloh if she ever found out. Instead, I played off the whole situation as if I had once been in her shoes: a situation that wasn't far from the truth.

At any rate, it was around that time that the smell of burning wood drifted over from the docks. Four, smaller vessels had been set on fire, but the wind failed to carry the scent inland until now. The arsonist had already appeared on the rooftop by then, still smelling of magic and soot from her act. It was the same woman who had distracted the pirates earlier, but this time she wore brown robes instead of her formerly ostentatious clothing.

"Seems someone has stirred up the hornet's nest," I said while looking at her in her drab attire. My attention shifted back to Shiloh then, not really caring to greet the person who was proving to be a magnet for trouble. "Well, if your theft didn't piss off the pirates in this area, burning their ships most certainly will. Not the wisest course of action, but perhaps a good, short-term distraction. Hopefully you two can run fast: that is if you feel like teaming up with the arsonist."

The woman's response to her prior question returned a small portion of clarity back into Shiloh's anger-addled mind. Of course, she was just passing through. Why else should she assume otherwise? It was silly to think that a complete stranger actually planned to appear at the right moment just to drop a tidbit of advice. Hearing something she understood was good, and calmed down her down as chaos was returning to order. However she caught a particular snippet of information that didn't sound right. "Singing? What singing?" She was pretty sure she didn't hear anything about singing from the crazy tin-bowl hat man; he would've made sure that she remembered to the point where it wouldn't slip her mind after being knocked out for a few hours. Before she could ask for clarification, the sound of explosions in the harbor forced Shiloh to cover her ears. The sounds coming from the pirates below told her that whatever had just happened was something she wouldn't be happy about.

Sure enough, it was as she had dreaded. Of all the things she needed, having the pirates even more on edge wasn't one of them. Stirring up the hornet's nest? More like using a club to knock said hornet's nest down to the ground to follow up by cracking it open. It was at this point that Shiloh confirmed that the universe was out to get her and make her terrible day worse. Great. Just great. Throwing a hateful glare at the one responsible for the raised security level, she seethed from behind her face-concealing mask. She didn't recognize the woman who had just appeared nearby on the rooftop, and if she did it would only add fuel to her ire. Said person in question she had only encountered twice in her brief time in Canelux, and neither times had been memorable enough to leave a lasting impression. Regardless, it did nothing to damper Shiloh's incoming rage towards her.

"So you're the one I have to thank for making my job twice as difficult! Thanks to you, every pirate in the entire district will be out for blood now that you've caught their attention!" Some distraction it was, if the one responsible hadn't run off out of their sights they wouldn't be searching high and low for the culprit. She wasn't in the mood for teamwork, especially not with somebody who was just going to increase their chances of being killed by a bunch of rabid buccaneers. If her escape hadn't been set on a time limit, she would've throttled her, or at least given the woman a good kick in the shins for the trouble she caused. Leaving the other two women to fend for themselves, Shiloh made a break for it and started her mad dash across rooftops towards the harbor. Although the situation was steadily getting worse, as long as she moved fast enough she could still avoid detection and take a dive into the sea while the search swept through the port's inner districts. 

She was flying across rooftops without missing a beat when a shrill screeching cry blared out from behind her ears. Fearing that one of the pirates had caught wind of her, she threw a glance behind to see no one, but no obvious sign of where the incessant noise was coming from. It was then that she put two and two together and looked at the bulging sack. Fumbling with the drawstrings she pulled the metallic bird out and tried to locate whatever was causing the sound. "Shh! Shhh!! Where do I turn this thing off?! Will you stop yelling, you dumb bird!" Failing to find the mechanism that was producing the cry, she stuffed it back into the sack and ran faster. Not good, not good–this was the worst possible scenario. As if the explosions weren't enough, now she was carrying a silver-plated alarm that was broadcasting her very location for the entire world to hear. 

To the circles of Infernos with the kestrel–if the pirates wanted the bird back they could have it back. And if she wasn't able to make it out with the statue, then she'd have to leave it behind. She was tired, angry, and fresh out of patience. 

She looked at the two offended. neither knew who she was and now she was thought of as an arsonist and an increase in trouble. She shook her head. "Silvertail is the name incase you have herd of it." she started as the girl ran off. well guess she deserved it. "Also just getting started." she looked at the one still there. "I am the one that has freed most the slaves in this town. And for the trouble they have given me in the past few moon cycles I have only begun." she looked at the direction of the sound.

She than turned an ran after the girl. she could not stop the sound but by the way the girl acted she could not defend herself when the pirates found her. she watched as the guards started to set up a trap. "Stop" she yelled than stood atop the tallest thing she could find and started to focus her energy too the new arrivals on the street. this was not where she wanted to do her show off but it would half to do.

Arrogance is not a trait isolated to a specific age group. The oldest wizard can be just as arrogant as the youngest warrior. There's no distinction between the two or some special characteristic that shields one in a cloak of wisdom. Only experience and humility can help with that, but there are just some people who never learn.

Of the two women I met in Vilpamolan the day of the kestrel theft, Shiloh was clearly the adult. Her irritation was understandable, but she managed it well. Brownie points were in her favor because of the fact that she decided not to attack me, and I admired her above average patience when compared to most other individuals who were both in her field and looked as young as she did.

'You'll make a good thief yet,' I thought while listening to her question about the singing. The detonation hadn't occurred just yet, so I was able to address her concern calmly. "You'll find out, soon enough. I recommend stuffing the kestrel into a pillow when the time comes, as that will mute it more than your sack." In truth, a pillow would be an effective countermeasure to the singing, especially one with above average stuffing inside. The pillow wouldn't completely mute the statuette, but any sound coming from it would be quiet enough that someone could transport it without notifying the entire district.

Whether I would have had time to explain that is all rather moot in hindsight, because the fire from earlier nicked some liquor barrels at that exact moment. Lightning ball and fireball spells – as I later discovered to have been used at the docks that day – are normally incapable of causing an explosion loud enough to be heard over long distances, let alone one powerful enough to destroy anything bigger than a skiff on their own. However, they can still start fires that are dangerous around highly flammable substances.

The person using the boats that had been torched by these spells had also been smuggling some high proof alcohol that day. As soon as the flames hit the barrels containing this merchandise, they ignited and shattered the boats into thousands of splinters. Pirates all over the district noticed that, as did Shiloh and I. Now everyone knew an intruder was running amok, and my masked acquaintance didn't appreciate that one bit.

I watched Ms. Kyrie as she harshly regarded Vinsue for her actions, not making any effort to stop their argument. I didn't blame her one bit for refusing partnership before running off. In fact, I probably would have done the same in her position.

After she left, though, I got my own taste of the trait I mentioned earlier. Vinsue, who introduced herself as Silvertail that day, proclaimed her reign of chaos was far from over. She made the ludicrous claim that she had freed nearly every slave in Vilpamolan by herself, when there were still several dozen, ongoing slave trades in the city that day. So confident in her own accomplishments was she that she couldn't appreciate how small her contribution had ultimately been. That was arrogance in its purest form.

If not even the kingdoms of the world or the deities could permanently purge Vilpamolan of slaves, this Silvertail certainly couldn't. Anyone that tried would already be marked for death by the slave traffickers that actually knew what they were doing. Not even purging the city would work toward that goal, because the slave owners would just find different ports to operate in. That is the sickness of man.

Yet because of my desire to remain uninvolved with this troublesome dragon, I didn't bother stating these facts just to point out her faulty reasoning. Exasperated, I just sighed, and gave her some brief chastisement before disappearing with the wind.

"Correction: you've freed most slaves from the novice owners you could find. This is Vilpamolan: the slavery capital of the world and not some pet project that a lone person – who doesn't even know the definition of subtlety – can fix. With your current tactics, you're likely to cause the deaths of more slaves than you save." With that, I vanished. Wind meld carried me across the rooftops faster than normal running ever could, all while invisibility covered my tracks. Eventually, I slipped into a mouse-sized hole in a nearby building, quickly finding myself in a room long abandoned.

The chamber had a wide view of the area, and was just close enough to my favored thief to allow me to help her without revealing my presence to anyone else. The door was barred by a rusted lock, while a skeleton hung from the rafters. He had likely been some poor bastard who owed too much money and decided to disappear, but the fact that he had been undisturbed for so long except by scavengers meant his resting place was perfectly safe to cast off my invisibility in.

It was there in that dust-filled chamber that I heard the infamous singing I had warned Shiloh about. The kestrel wailed out into the sky, drawing pirates toward it like in ages past, but I still wasn't fully committed to helping its newest owner escape from the homing call.

I had to make a decision in that moment. Would I help Shiloh escape or was it none of my business? Part of me wanted to capitalize on the theft: to paint several portraits of the thief and market it as a short story of a successful, romantic individual. Another part of me, however, also thought that Vinsue would make that act particularly difficult, and so wanted to drop the whole thing altogether. In the end, I couldn't decide on my own, so I let lady luck give me some help.

There was a dusty coin in the corner of my hideout along with a formerly luxurious pillow that had seen better days. I grabbed both, and flipped the coin while Vinsue was already shouting at Shiloh.

"Heads," I said, having not noticed that the coin I was tossing was actually a double-headed one. Of course, I saw that after I had already flipped it, but didn't feel like going to the trouble of finding a regular coin afterward just to redo the whole affair. Shiloh had won my help according to luck regardless of the circumstances, so I quickly went about communicating with her before any stray arrows decided they were hungry.

~No one wants a portrait of a dead thief, and luck's on your side today,~ I said to her telepathically while quickly summoning a sewing kit to work on the pillow I found. ~So I've decided to actually start helping you beyond idle chitchat. Ancestors know you need it, what with that Silvertail following you.~ By that point, Shiloh was already well aware of the dragon following her, so I was just being captain obvious with my statement. The cheekiness gave me time to fashion a primitive button pocket in the pillow for Shiloh to stuff the statue into and achieve some quiet. I immediately sent that to her via portal once it was finished, having it appear directly in front of her at chest level while another telepathic message sounded off. ~Use that pillow to close up the statue. It's old but has just enough stuffing to help.~

Amid the screeching, shouts of protest, and the pounding of her own blood through her veins, Shiloh heard a voice intrude into her mind. It was the woman who had previously explained the statue to her, by the sound of the mental voice. Her enigmatic benefactor then stated two things. One, she had decided to help her and was working on it as she was speaking. Two, she was being followed by the trouble-making upstart. While she wondered why on earth the latter had chosen to follow her when it would have given no additional benefit, a pillow spontaneously appeared before her. Grabbing it, she heard the mental voice instruct her on how to utilize the pillow to temporarily silence that accursed bird until she was out of town.

She didn't need to be told twice on what to do–immediately she opened the pillow up and hastily shoved the silver kestrel into the stuffing as far as it would go. When the sound was dramatically dampened, she breathed a sigh of relief. Much better. Pushing the weighted pillow into her sack, she hid in the shadows of a half-broken chimney as she saw the pirates run towards the building she was currently on. Confused as to why the sound they were following had stopped, the men began searching around the nearby alleys for anyone who wasn't their own. Taking a few minutes to warm up her limbs, she crouched down low and sprang across the gap between the rooftops on all fours doing a roll upon landing on the other side. The clattering of wheels signaled the presence of horse-drawn carts with buccaneers at the reins, speeding through the streets to find the one responsible for all the destruction and property damage incurred today. Looking at those carts gave her an idea.

Eventually she would run out of high ground, and would ultimately be forced to come down. And as soon as she was on the floor, she'd get swarmed once she was spotted. However there was a readily available solution that would allow her to escape while keeping herself out of their reach: hijacking a cart. Beneath the mask a sly grin spread across her face as she knew exactly what to do. This would be fun. She only had once chance to get this right; should she miss it would all be over. Eyeing a cart carrying only its driver, she quickly tied the sack with a coil of rope to the front of her body covering her midsection. With a few tugs to check it was secure, she dove off the edge of the roof like a bird of prey onto the unsuspecting driver. Landing squarely on him, they wrestled for a few minutes until she was able to kick him off the horse. Grabbing the reins, she took control while the man yelled as he tumbled onto the ground.

Digging her feet into the flanks of the horse, she hollered driving it to run faster. But she wasn't out of the district yet–soon another cart loaded with swashbucklers began coming from behind and pulling up beside her. The corners of her mouth twitching into a scowl, she yanked the reins sharply forcing the horse to swerve and the cart along with it. The cart smashed into the side of the other, throwing it off balance, but that only slowed them down briefly. Finally, having had enough of their shots and swinging she rammed her cart hard enough that it sent the other right into a brick wall. "Ha! How do you like them apples–huh?! And you call yourselves pirates?" she shouted, mocking them as she left them in the dust. She began to grit her teeth as the ocean blue began to come into view, as the pier's charred planks were steadily approaching. Pulling hard on the reins again in a final sharp turn, she flung herself off the horse into the water abandoning her borrowed ride to gallop off elsewhere.

With the smoke and wreckage from the shattered ships, it was easy for her to disappear beneath the water's surface. As the statue was pulling her down, she quickly began working to untie the sack around her waist so it wouldn't become dead weight. The special armor she had on helped her to breathe while she loosened the knots, and when it was done she began kicking towards the surface.