Dear Tricky Hat

[Elfling]

There were ways, of course, to get in contact with one another. Ways that didn't involve a little pageboy messenger. This person in the know knew that person who was also in the know, but the 'know' was kept very very quiet. So it was through such channels that the bandit, Tricky Hat, would be delivered a message.

He had, no doubt, heard of the elven rogue. He may have even seen her once or twice without either of them realizing who the other was. But all the same, she was asking to meet with him to discuss a potential, mutual agreement.

After all.. he had a band. And she was all alone.

[Tolleson]

Unfortunately, the Tricky Hat had his hands beyond full at the moment. But still the message had been received and a response, written in a fine hand, read:

As you may well understand, I cannot come to meet you. Be assured you have my full attention and I will send an agent on my behalf.

Meet at the north edge of the lake round twilight and though I would think it known, come alone. -T

[Elfling]

The north edge of the lake, was it? Solena didn't much care for not knowing things, but it was understandable. After all, a Pasha kept himself surrounded, and she was but a rumor. Rumors were not trustworthy. Therefore, she resigned herself to having to play it from the bottom up.

Of course, he didn't have to know that she was never, ever alone. Even if the physical self was alone, there would always be another. A Bonded. They all had their little secrets, didn't they?

Yet, she was perched upon a rock at the appointed time. Her violet tunic spoke of royalty (hadn't she been told that?) and grey pants were simply there to match the elven-crafted boots that she wore. There were matching grey gloves, and combs in her wheat-colored hair, adorned with pretty, sparkling jewels. She'd taken to wearing multiple belts -- every rogue could learn something from another -- to hold various sized pouches and a couple of daggers. All of the weapons on her person were also wrapped in a deep plum upon the hilts.

There, with eyes half-closed, Solena waited. She didn't need to have her eyes open; those long, knife-pointed ears could hear just about everything. After all, she'd been prized as a slave for her extra-sensitive hearing. It was about time she looked into a new Pasha.

Maybe this one could be one. For now.

[Tolleson]

((A Log, mostly for me, because its easier to remember this way ;p))

[Tennant]
He hadn’t stirred, hardly even a breath, but still she may have seen him. For a moment he’d only watch, careful to ensure he wasn’t falling into a trap. Jumping from a long hanging tree branch several paces away, a rather slender, perhaps even familiar looking young man would remove his dark brown hood. Under which was brown hair, brown eyebrows and perhaps familiar green eyes. Under it all was a modest outfit of a fine fabric, in a deep and perhaps even outrageous lapis blue, belts and several daggers, more than one could wield at once, surely. His boots are soft, worked leather that pad the ground softly and have done so too upon the Dagger’s floorboards if enough attention to detail had been paid. There was an illusion spell, either cast by him or on him fading all too quickly as recognition flooded into the young man’s face. Yet his hair remained brown, though now wild, unkempt and free unlike it had been prior, “Well… Good Evening.”

[Solena]
The turn of her head was almost regal from her perch upon the stone, and both of her ears moved with the sound of his voice as if she was trying to catch it at just the right pitch. The elf grinned suddenly, sitting up and peering down at her sudden companion. "Hello yerself!" The rogueling declared. She leaned forward a little more, offering him a gloved hand so that he could pull himself back up with her. No need to talk business when they'd already shared a swing after all. Yet, her eyes darted over him, taking in every detail -- and any differences. "If I'd known it would be so easy, I'd have simply waited on the swing." She teased him. Of course, she hadn't a clue that she was talking to the leader. Solena had been away dealing with her own, roguish duties. The rumors that had started to fly about his identity and relations had never reached her ears.

[Tennant]
Bowing a deep and sweeping gesture he grins and takes her hand, “Lovely Lady, indeed. The swing may have been more comfortable, but so many prying eyes.” Here they were beyond alone, well, aside from her connection which he seemed only vaguely aware of. “I have to say… I’m surprised to see you, of all people here.” He didn’t seem –that- surprised, she carried a dagger with her everywhere, perhaps even when all she wore was a bed sheet when last he saw her.

[Solena]
And now, she was definitely not in a bedsheet. She screamed rogue right down to her gloves. "Are you?" Teasing, that question. It came with a light laugh and glittering eyes. "Don't care for prying eyes, do you?" Center of attention. Once he was settled, she leaned back on her hands. It made her shoulders hunch ever so slightly, and she ducked her head to look at him. "Or perhaps you are merely implying that I am so awesome that I do not need a band to protect me." Ah! A self-fished compliment. Yet, her mouth twitched a bit wider in her amusement.

[Tennant]
“You are a force to be reckoned with, of this I am certain,” he grinned like he jested but the truth of it or at least that he believed the words he spoke, rang true. Perhaps this was the very thing he looked for in his colleagues. “I think you could be a fine leader, better than the man we have now even,” his grin was trickier then. The implication was convoluted, but it was clear he meant it as a compliment all the same. He’d come to rest beside her, letting his right elbow rest upon his knee pulled up as the other lie straight.

[Solena]
She waved a gloved hand at him. "I've tried that. I failed miserably." And there was even a hint of bitterness for his roguish ears to hear. It was complete truth, as well. She'd run a rogue's guild in the desert, and she'd destroyed it. Or so she thought, anyway. Responsibility pressed heavily on her shoulders. "But I do wonder, truthfully, about some of the.. direction he points you in." Her eyes were twinkling again, as if the shadows had been banished from her heart just that easily. "Why ask you to steal a bard's instrument, for instance?"

[Tennant]
“Failure is often what we see in ourselves… and rarely the reality of how the world sees us.“ He had looked away but he looks back with a shrug as if he really had just pulled the insightful thought out of the air and not from a book long ago and a memory that dwelled upon him. Clearly, he seemed to have similar feelings. “It is a valuable item, no?” He grinned, obviously lying about something or another but there was a flirtatiousness about it that made him smile in earnest. He shifts a little, perhaps in contemplation, perhaps.

[Solena]
If she was truly trying to be deceitful, she would have. But the fact was, she rather liked the other rogues and the initial territorial feeling had passed. She had Mordecai, after all. Why not this one as well? Sometimes it was a good thing to have a comrade that knew what they were doing. "Only to the bard that makes it sing, but none of you have asked a ransom. I'm puzzled." And it seemed to be honest confusion. Well. Part of her did want to know. If it had been her, it was entirely due to the challenge of all the wards the bard had set up! Abruptly, the elfling rolled back to lay flat on the rock, and as hands folded together underneath her head, she turned it to look up at him.

[Tennant]
“A wonderful idea… you’d be a valuable addition to the team,” there was a sly grin, but he only looked out again, defensively. He was not saying something, keeping information about the reason behind its abduction a secret. “It is a very beautiful instrument… a collector would enjoy it,” but that was a poor defense, finding the class of person that had the coin to collect instruments on appearance alone was no venture suited for a rogue. Surely he nor the rest of them, however many they were, had little use for it. A personal endeavor then.