theBlackman on 24/3/2009 at 19:15

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As before, I have no idea. I suspect somewhere near a third or slightly more than half.

Unlike true writers, I don't outline or plan a plot line. It just kind of wends its way from here to the end.

But thanks for asking, and I'm glad you enjoyed TPTR. I do these things just for the fun, so when someone asked about Fanfic some years ago it just started tickling my fingers.

And to get myself deeper in the crapper, I've started a Memoirs of a Thief being the history of Garrett.

Here is a small sample:

Memoirs of a thief

My name is Garrett. I'm a thief. I don't remember a lot about my early life. An orphan, I grew up in the streets of The City. Whether my mother was married or not, died of plague, or some other illness, abandoned me or was taken from me in some other manner, I don't know.

My earliest recollections are from about the age of twelve or thirteen. Prior to that I remember only dirt, starvation, cold and loneliness. Perhaps it was the trauma of the life, or some other form of amnesia. I slept wherever I could find shelter; abandoned buildings; under a stall after the markets closed; in a niche out of the wind in some debris in an alley. I lived hand to mouth by stealing food from the fruit stalls and bakery vendors in the market. Now and then I stole some coins left on the counters of the food stalls lining the market, or stole as a pickpocket. With the few coins I got from the purses I stole, I bought a hot meal now and then to augment my diet of fruit and bread. My clothing I stole from the washing left to dry on clotheslines in the area.

One day I noticed a man walking through the marketplace. It seemed that he was invisible to the crowds through which he walked. People would walk right into his face and just as they reached him, pass inches to one side or another. He would stroll casually through the crowds and they parted in front of him like the sea to the bow of a ship. He walked boldly through the market, giving way to none passing unnoticed like the vagrant breezes that occasionally wafted through the crowded plaza.

It seemed strange to me so I followed him, getting a little closer to him with each minute. When he paused to look around, I stopped a few feet behind him and examined him closely. He was dressed in a nondescript dull brown hooded cloak, held at the throat by a silver clasp. Medium height, he had regular features with grey eyes that seemed to drill right through those he looked at. At his waist a well-filled purse hung from the belt securing his tunic, beneath the cloak. Dangling four or five inches on the strings holding it at his waist. It was a tempting target. When he looked away to his left, I slipped up on the right and made a grab at it, knife in hand to sever the strings from which it hung.

With a speed that I couldn't believe he grasped my hand and pulled me to him. “That's not for you”, he said.

“Oh sir! Please don't turn me in. My mother is ill and I need some money for her medicine. Else she'll die, the doctor said.”

He chuckled, “Don't play that game with me boy. You've not got a mother and as a cutpurse, you don't seem to have any great skill either. But, you do have a talent. To see a Keeper, especially one that does not wish to be seen, is a rare thing.
“Come with me.”

Keeping his hand on my wrist he dragged me easily, even though I fought him, through the crowd. Even then no-one noticed either of us, a thing that caused me great wonder. It seemed that his contact with me made me, like him, invisible.

So it was I became a ward of The Keepers and entered a program of apprenticeship. At first I thought little of it. I had regular food, clothing and a bed of my own, even though in a dormitory with other acolytes of The Keepers.

In the years I was there, I learned to move noiselessly over any surface, how to read, write, pick locks, climb walls like a spider and other skills. How to become invisible in a crowd, as I had seen him do.

The Keepers, I learned, are a secret society of men and women whose purpose in life was to maintain a balance of power between Good and Evil. This included controlling some magical artifacts of great power. The Keepers were neutral and took no sides in the battles between the Pagans, and the Hammerites, or between the Hammerites and the emerging Mechanists. They did interfere when the balance of power became too extreme for one side or the other. I learned that the forbidden walled area of the Olde Quarter was the result of evil magic that unbalanced the natural order.

A magic artifact of great power had been devised and used in the battles between the Pagan gods and the Hammerites. This unbalance had released the undead to roam the city. The Keepers themselves, with all their knowledge were unable to control the evils released by misuse of THE EYE. Even they were forced to abandon their enclave in the midst of the now decayed and undead infested area.

This part of The City was walled off from the rest of The City, and The Keepers stole the artifact from the Hammerite Cathedral and hid it away. They had put beyond the reach of man, they thought, by hiding it in the abandoned cathedral in the walled-off area. To protect it further, they locked it away with talisman keys of Air, Fire, Earth and Water, that they scattered in secret places about The City and it's environs, where the discovery of the talisman keys was unlikely. In the hiding of the keys many of the brethren disappeared and were never seen again. Even those protected by powerful amulets.

The Keepers had written records going back to the prehistory of the city. Many tomes from the days of the earliest inhabitants of the area, the Precursors, were keep in a secret library that only the most learned keepers had access to. This collection also contained texts written in languages so old, that only a few could read. The library also held a series of prophecies from ages past. One of the duties The Keepers took upon themselves was to study these arcane texts and try to decipher the meaning of the riddles expounded in the folios.

I learned the use of weapons, the control of elemental crystals for use with arrows, the use of potions of invisibility, speed, and healing. How to picklocks and break into safes and vaults to further The Keeper's designs. I learned the art of using shadows and subterfuge to move invisibly, like the Keeper that found me. I also learned that I did not want to spend my life in this monastic society, nor to be one of their tools in maintaining the balance they sought.

The discipline bored me, the restrictions and constant schooling wearied me. Against all advice, and threats, from many of the order, I left to find my way in the world outside. Spurning all contact with them, I became a thief.

The skills they had gifted me were perfect for that occupation. Lockpicking, moving silently and invisibly. The ability to climb nearly any vertical surface and, as much as it irks me to admit, patience. The ability to stand, crouch, or sit immobile in the shadows for hours while I observed, or hid from the City Watch or guards of a mansion. Although I didn't know it at the time, the most valuable thing they taught me was the ability to read and write. Not only in the language of the land, but also those of two or three others. This, above all else, has been the best tool in my arsenal.

At first, I was not very good at my trade. I had no contacts for information about where the best contributors to my new life would be found, and no place to sell the gems or other trinkets I might steal. My first few years were lean. But I learned, and I learned well. I kept to myself and gradually became more skilled.

I also learned, to my initial dismay, that thievery was controlled by the Thieves Guild. Freelancers, such as myself were not allowed. All thieves either belonged to the guild and stole only what and when they were told, or paid a healthy percentage of their take to the guild for the privilege to operate within The City.

I, of course, refused to join or to pay. As a result, I had the Guild against me, and through them the City Watch, and the Sheriff. A few of my jobs had been too successful, I had picked a few plums from right under their noses, so they informed the Watch and the Sheriff of my existence. It made my movement through the streets a little risky, but as neither the Guild nor the Watch, nor anyone else knew my abode, it was more inconvenience than worry.

jtr7 on 5/5/2009 at 00:25

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Got it! Whee!:cool:

nickie on 5/5/2009 at 14:30

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Some of us are still searching! :)

jtr7, where are you when I need you?

theBlackman on 5/5/2009 at 23:41

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Yep. I PMd her the link just after she asked. :)

nickie on 6/5/2009 at 09:18

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Thank you both - I'll try to keep up now. :laff: