There’s this awkward moment when they both spot each other at the same time, comically cliché. No one’s supposed to be here — certainly not the elf standing at the door on the right of the small atrium, who looks just as confused as he is with the sight of a masked stranger holding a grappling hook tied to a rope, that can’t really be mistaken for something it isn’t. It doesn’t matter anyway, because something must have alerted the guards and voices arise outside, with footsteps approaching from the other door on the far left. ❝ Well, shit — ❞ Morwen whispers. The voices sound more urgent now, so he makes a call he’s sure he’ll regret, throwing the rope over his shoulder and nudging the intruder back through the door and down the corridor.
❝ Go, go, go, ❞ he urges forward as they run down the hallway, then down the stairs, clamouring far too loudly to call this anything resembling stealth. It’s a miracle they aren’t caught, and that’s really on the competency of the guards that were meant to be guarding something precious that they don’t seem to catch on before they’re already out the back door.
Morwen doesn’t stop nagging forward until they’re a few blocks away, where he eventually stops in some alley, heavily breathing. The scarf covering his face is crooked, so against his better judgement, he pulls it down to his neck. ❝ You just cost me a lot of money, ❞ he says finally, crouching by the wall so he can check his backpack and put the grappling hook back inside. He looks up. ❝ What were you doing there anyway? The people that own this place, they’re the sort to throw you into a cell for just trespassing. And I know you don’t work there, got me a list ‘n everything. ❞
plotted starter : @gloomstalk for box from morwen .
