"You know I have half a mind to think this a bad idea." Morgan commented as she ducked a flying jug, mead spilling onto her tunic. Gawain gave a wickedly charming grin as he crouched down oppisite her, the pair's proximity the only reason they could be heard over the absolute chaos, the bar had turned into.

"Just as well the other half is reasonable." He shrugged his brows, before grabbing a clean mug from by Morgan's arm. "It's all on you now. Good luck." With those parting words of encouragement, he stood, filled his mug, and called out in challenge of the bar keep, who was just on the other side of the bench, trying to calm the fighting.

Morgan sighed, well aware that Gawain's charm, and roughish good looks, took majority blame for their new found alliance. She could hardly deny the man anything. Not with a face like his. The red head shook her head to clear it. Keeping low she left her hideout, quickly slipping over to the locked door behind the bar. Pulling her tools from her pocket she began her work on the lock. The lock clicked, and she turned the handle, slipping into the dark room.

Morgan stood and pocketed her tools, before striking a match and lighting the lamp by the door. Not stopping, she scoped out the small room. A leaning bookcase, a wall of stocked shelves, and a desk, back lit by a window, displaying the dark night sky. She paced around the desk, and pulled on the handles of each draw, until she reached a locked one. The bottom draw. How predictable. Another simple lock. She supposed she was lucky, not many possessed her skills, or they might consider upgrading their locks.

She began to work the piece, as the noise outside began to die down. She was running out of time when it clicked, and she pulled open the draw. Flipping open the satchel at her waist, she deposited a few handfuls of coins into the leather, before sealing it shut, and closing the draw once more.

The man they were robbing had it coming. He was a money hungry arse, who charged his patrons too much for drinks, and or a room. He never treated his workers right, and didn't protect his maids. He also skulked off with stolen goods from travellers and new comers.

It was considered righteous law by the pair's eyes. They only ever stole from those who could afford it. Or those who deserved it.

With her satchel full, she blew out the lamp, and quickly slipped back out the door. As she slipped out, she spotted some premium bottles, on the bottom shelf of the bar, and tucked two under her arm, before attempting to disappear into the fray. Unfortunately, the chaos had nearly died out, and she was quickly spotted by the owner.

"HEY! YOU!" He pointed a grubby finger at the young woman. Her eyes widened, and she was running for the exit, the owner following after her, two stocky men accompanying him, Gawain ducking out after them too.

Morgan dashed through the mostly empty streets of the town in Escetir. They had no horses, and nowhere in particular to go, so, she simply hoped to loose them somewhere in the dark. There was a cry and some thumps, and Morgan glanced over her shoulder, spotting Gawain as he tossed a crate at the back of one of her pursuers.

She grinned and ducked around a corner, narrowly missing a lounging cat as it hissed violently at her. Spotting a small old bridge, the water bellow it shallow but fast moving. Morgan made it up and halfway over, before she was wrenched backwards by the satchel strap that hung across her chest.

"Gotcha now!" She quickly pivoted and swept under the band, gripping it with both hands as she pressed her back against the low retaining wall, yanking the leather taunt as she met eyes with the bar keeper, gripping the other end.

Her chest heaved and she looked down at the jostled bag between them, a large bottle of wine sticking out the top, the  back up at the keeper. As the sound of  the quick shallow water reached her ears, she made her decision.

Morgan drove forward and slammed her knee up into the Inn keepers groin, before bringing her forearm down against both his wrists, forcing him to let the bag go. Grabbing the bottle from the bag and flinging the flap open, she ignored the man's yells of anger and pain, and tipped the bag upside down over the bridge wall and dropped it into the water bellow.

The Inn keeper shouted and ran to the edge of the wall, scrambling to crest it and jump into the rapid shallows in the hopes of retrieving some of his stolen coin. Morgan grinned and fled.

"Where's the loot?" Gawain questioned with a raised brow and a grin, as he looked his friend up and down as she entered their shared room. Morgan huffed and flopped face first down onto her cot, holding the bottle of wine in her hand as she vaguely waved it at him.

"I had to choose. Naturally I chose the booze." It was half spoken into the pillow but Gawain got the jist and laughed heartily as he stood from his own cot to retrieve her offering.

"Aye! A woman after my own heart." He popped the cork and gulped down a mouthful without so much as sniffing it.

"Not bad." He wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve as Morgan sat up and took the offered beverage, downing a few mouthfuls.

"The coin?"

"Down-river somewhere."

"Serves 'im right."