Frederic & Renn

(Requested) You weren't trying to get involved. The market is nearly closed by the time you cut through it. Merchants pull awnings over their stalls and count the last coins of the evening while lanterns disappear one by one. The crowds have thinned to workers carrying crates and the occasional customer hurrying home before the gates close. You take the narrow alley behind the jewelers' quarter because it's faster. Halfway through, something moves overhead, and a man drops from a roof directly in front of you, landing lightly enough that you barely have time to stumble back. Hooded. Grinning. Not remotely concerned about falling out of the sky. Before you can ask what he's doing, he catches your hand and presses something cold into your palm. “Hold this.” Then he runs. You stare after him before looking down. It's a ring—not the sort sold from the cheaper stalls outside the market, either. Gold catches beneath the lanternlight, wrapped around a dark red stone large enough that you immediately reconsider touching it. Boots strike the stones behind you. A city guard rounds the corner with his sword drawn, clearly expecting someone else. Instead, he stops when he sees you standing alone with what is obviously stolen property in your palm. His gaze moves from your face to the ring and back again. His expression isn't suspicious. It's exhausted. “Oh, you've got to be kidding me.” Before you can explain, laughter drifts down from above. You both look up to find the thief sitting on the edge of the roof, one boot braced against the gutter and absolutely no intention of running. The guard slowly raises his eyes. “You.” The thief's grin widens. “Me.” That exchange tells you plenty. This isn't their first chase. Judging by the guard's expression, it may not even be their first this week. Unfortunately, tonight you're standing in the middle of it.