Handle, you know you've bitten too deeply this time. Damn those beasts back in the Kraken's Head! You should have known better than to take their stupid wager. But you were sick and tired of hearing "Russpelt did this", "Persia did that" or "Squinteye did some other damn thing". You'd think to listen to those furry reprobates that humans couldn't hold a crystal to beast prowess. That old drunken rodent that kept ribbing you was more than half a rat, or you're a three-eyed riven.

There was nothing for it now. The robbery itself had gone off without a hitch. You had cased the place for five days, noting comings and goings. A little powdered night root had taken care of the guards, two great Dobie brutes with noses sharper than their wits. Their master, a young and richly dressed merchant was never in at this time of night

He knew that their employer would be gone for at least an hour. From a park by a fountain feeding the fat geese, you had counted the comings and goings. The house was empty.

You mounted the wall in a deep-shadowed corner, easily sneaking past the slumbering brutes at the gate. The door itself wasn't a spirit door thank goodness, but the lock had been more trouble than it was worth. Thankfully, no one bought as good a lock for a second story window.

The faint light of multicolored lumina lanterns from the street was your only guide to the contents of the room on this dark, hot, nearly moonless night. A quick sweep of the interior netted more than you would have imagined. A great deal of jewelry for one thing. The merchant whose house this was, was a bachelor. You are not an appraiser, but you knew you had hi it big. Even if a fence gave you one tenth their value, you'd be able to live like a Master for months. Onger if you lived like Handle...

You were about to move further inward when it all went wrong. You heard a voice from downstairs. Deep but somehow reedy it called quietly upwards, "I know you are there, little thief. I can see you. Give up and I promise you things will go peacefully."

Though the words are gentle, there is no mistaking the cruel tone with which they are delivered.

The room has two windows, each with a bit of an outward dimple that makes them almost but not quite tiny balconies. There is one door (which you haven't yet opened) that leads to the interior. The walls are plastered brick and the floor is made of thick boards overlaid with a nice carpet that does not fill the room. The room appears to be an office, though there is a small bed too. It is furnished accordingly. As far as you can tell there is no way you could be observed by someone who does not possess spirit sight or is not using a secret passage or peephole.

[EDITED on Sun September 15, 2002 @10:14 PM (PDT)]

Thoughts raced, instincts began to take over and yet not quick enough. Two choices, run or attempt to ambush and finish off the witness before they can call the guards.

.oO( Think! Move! Is it a bluff? But if they can already see me, if they know I am here then how can I ambush them? Then Run! )

Returning to the window that he had entered, Handle drops the heavier of his loot and doesn't bother to cautiously climb, though still attempts to be quiet. ((DM roll Stealth 14-))
Remembering the lay out of the gounds below, he makes his best leap and run. ((Breakfall 13- then half move.))
[3d6]
4, 5, 1 (STUN: 10, BODY: 2) Sun September 15, 2002 @2:16 AM (CDT)

.oO( Then off towards the estate walls and lose them. If I make the streets they won't be able to catch me. )

The loot is mostly jewelry, and so is fairly compact. You don't leave much behind. However, when the sack hits the pavement below it burtst open, scattering the goods in a neat little heap. You yourself land next to it, nimble as a cat.
The window you have leapt from places you next to the slumbering dobermans. the front door is still closed, and one of the guards lies insensible against it. (Int Roll by 3) This makes you wonder how the person got inside. You were certain no one was in there before you entered. You hear no immediate sounds of pursuit, but the door is thick. Do you take time to scoop up your goods, grab what you can at random and go, or just beat sandals for the gate/trellis?

.oO(Stab the luck! I should have spent an extra copper for aleather bag, even if it was hard to fold and hide under my cloak)

Handle hunkers down trying to look like a slice of shadow on the walk as he makes a quick apprasal of the jewelry scattered on the ground and chooses the best of the lot. Having already looked it over slightly while picking it up during th job, he looks for those things he remembvered thinking would bring the most jingle.
((Appraisal 11-))
[3d6]
6, 3, 1 (STUN: 10, BODY: 3) Tue September 17, 2002 @11:31 PM (PDT)
5, 4, 4 (STUN: 13, BODY: 3) Tue September 17, 2002 @11:29 PM (PDT)

Watching the door and the guards as he lightly fingers the loot and stashes it into his few oouches on his belt, Handle glances at the windows on the ground floor looking to see if he can pick up any other movement.

.oO(Some other nappy lifter. Thats what it had ta be. And I ran. Stab it all. Maybe just get to my hunkered near the wall and see what show may come of it. I'll teach them a thing or two to stink my case.)

Handle takes an extra random grab at the fallen loot and then skims off across the grund to gain the vantage he used while casing the place and watch what happens. On the way there he picks up a few rocks with a quick plan coming to mind.

((random rolls if needed))
[3d6]
4, 1, 6 (STUN: 11, BODY: 3) Tue September 17, 2002 @11:31 PM (PDT)
1, 3, 3 (STUN: 7, BODY: 2) Tue September 17, 2002 @11:29 PM (PDT)
[3d6]
4, 4, 3 (STUN: 11, BODY: 3) Tue September 17, 2002 @11:31 PM (PDT)
4, 5, 2 (STUN: 11, BODY: 3) Tue September 17, 2002 @11:29 PM (PDT)

[EDITED on Tue September 17, 2002 @11:31 PM (PDT)]

As you are making the first grab at the loot. (You are pretty sure you got the best stuff by the way). The door opens. The lamps go out in the immediate visinity, throughint the courtyard into deep shadow. There is enough distant light to modify normal darkness penalties, but your eyes will have to adjust first. A man comes out, his footsteps barely audible. The Dobie who was lying aginst the door slumps over with a thud.
"Well done, thief," says the voice. "Just put down that jewelry and I can promise you no more than a branding. Oh, it's too late for that, I see."
Your brand is well-concealed and it is dark.
"Don't try to run, I can find you."
The voice is is quick and low. Still attempting to be soothing, but still filled with menace.
Fight, flight, or talk?

.oO(Scup, must be a witch)

"Alright then you got me with hands in the cookie jar..."
Handle holds his hands in an open position in front of him the jewelry setting in them. He holds them just long enough for the person to notice and make the obvious statement, to just drop them.

As Handle lets his fingers spread to allow them to drop, he catches the best between his fingers inorderto keep them
((slieght of hand if needed, 14- w/+1 agility skill level applied.))
[3d6]
4, 4, 4 (STUN: 12, BODY: 3) Wed September 18, 2002 @11:38 PM (PDT)
but instead of letting the rest drop, his arms jerk forward and fling them as hard as he can in to the man's face as he moves in to a defensive stance.
[3d6]
1, 3, 4 (STUN: 8, BODY: 2) Wed September 18, 2002 @11:38 PM (PDT)

<1>((if this works and distracts him enough or makes him lose his action then, or thereafter regardless, ))<1/>

Following this Handle draws a throwng knife and throws for the man's throat, hoping to stop him from crying out.
(Attack roll))
[3d6]
1, 5, 2 (STUN: 8, BODY: 2) Wed September 18, 2002 @11:38 PM (PDT)
((1 CSL to hit, Damage 1/2d6, +1 DC for extra str, +1 DC for two CSL,
for 1d6+1k damage.
[1d6+1]
stun mod
[1d6]
6 (STUN: 6, BODY: 2) Wed September 18, 2002 @11:38 PM (PDT)

((if we are playing hit locations then this is just dramatic lisence and I am making a normal undeclared target attack and hoping for surprise and to win the killing dice lottery))

((We should work out a format on how you want to deal with attacks and damage, when to roll and what.))