Many years had passed since Bonifaz had returned to his childhood home, mostly due to his distaste for his father's work. But he could remember the hours he spent watching pirates and other degenerates placing bets and playing cards in the many taverns dotting the city, so he figured it was about time for him to visit. As he traversed the crowded streets of Vilpamolan, no one seemed to recognize him. Which was good, since he didn't want anyone to alert his father. Soon, Baz ran across a tavern that looked rather promising. It was certainly busy, but not nearly as cramped as many of the others.

When he entered the building, it took him exactly two seconds to spot an open seat at a table and join the game. Judging from the other players' appearances alone, they looked to be the types that considered all gambling a game of chance. Baz, of course, knew that there was a strategy to it, something he prided himself on exploiting. A few rounds went by, and he kept a casual and ignorant facade to make the others feel overconfident. Then, in a single round, he had cleared them of most of their silver. He could have taken all of it, but as he'd learned from experience, that particular act was a major source of violence. And, though he was an excellent gambler, Baz was definitely not very good in a fight. 

Smirking as he loaded the silver into his bag, he decided to leave the group before they got punch-happy. He sauntered over to the bar, shooting a charming smile at a woman on a stool as he did. "A mug of ale, if you would~" he requested of the bartender, tossing some of his new silver onto the counter. She nodded and filled him a mug, sliding it in front of him.

At first glance, one may not notice the small figure in the corner of the bar, unless one knew what to look for. A small black cloak covering a bartered pirate's dress. A strand of soft pink hair slipping out from beneath the hood. A smirk hidden behind a small, elegant hand. She wasn't noticed, for she didn't wish to be noticed. If she wanted the attention, all she had to do was slip the cloak off. The colored hair, pitch black eyes, and pointed ears would catch the attention of anyone looking for trouble. The gambling ginger was one such fellow. Feyre watched him play, noticing the facade he kept up until the end. Definitely trouble. She kept her eyes on him as he made his way to the bar, her attention never leaving the silver in his grasp. Feyre never wanted to resort to thievery. She would rather have worked for her coin, but desperate times call for desperate measures. And she had to admit…if she wasn't built for thievery, why was it so easy to slip small nimble fingers into pockets and satchels? She was practically designed for the job. The thought brought a smirk to her face, as the ginger ordered his drink. Now to wait for the perfect opportunity. 

The mug of ale was drained within a few minutes, so Baz turned and scanned the room for one more open game. He knew better than to get drunk before gambling– he didn't exactly have the best judgement if he wasn't sober. His blue eyes landed on a table near the corner of the room. A few serious-looking pirates were bent over some dice and cups, intensely focused on their game. Now, Bonifaz was definitely not one to test fate, but he couldn't help but notice the stacks of silver and gold in front of each man. With any luck, he would double his earnings from the previous game.

Gripping his bag, he strode confidently over to the table, running a hand through his red hair. Briefly, he took note of figure sitting at the table in the dark corner, otherwise paying them no mind. Baz pulled a chair over from another table, swiveled it around, and sat himself down at the table, completely ignoring the annoyed looks on the faces of the pirates. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but mind if I join?" One of the men appeared as though he'd protest, until Baz set all of his silver from the other game onto the surface. That shut him up. Deviously smirking, Baz nodded and leaned into the game.

He used a similar strategy to the one he used earlier, playing dumb until the last second. He ended up winning most of their loot by the end of the game. An air of victory surrounded him as he stood with his now heavy sack of money. "Well, mates, it's been fun, but I really must–" His gloating speech was abruptly cut off by one of the pirates standing and delivering a swift punch to his back, sending him sprawling out on the floor. By the time he looked back up, the other three were rummaging through his bag. "Hey!" he yelled, still too disoriented to stand. He should've known better than to play with pirates…

Feyre bolted from her chair, already pulling a small dagger from her boot. Stupid pirates were robbing the ginger blind, something she had her mind set on. Moving quickly and quietly, she scurried around to the first pirate. She thrust her blade between her ribs and quickly stepped aside, dazzling a man with a flirtatious smiling before slipping the bloodied blade into his hand. Before the man could realize what she'd done, the first pirate had already locked him in a chokehold. 

Sparing a glance at the disoriented redhead, she moved towards the pirates attacking the bag of coin. Her elbow shot out into the first one's nose, and her leg shot into another's stomach. Quickly snatching the bag, Feyre scurried out of the tavern, black cloak billowing behind her. She darted into an alley, scattering a few coins as they rolled down the street. Ignoring them, she continued to run deeper into the alley before stopping and leaning against the wall to catch her breath. The Fae pulled back her hood, shaking her hair out of her eyes. She let herself slowly slide down the wall and sink to the floor before she started to count the day's earnings. 

Although he was still mostly dazed, Bonifaz saw the woman attack the pirates and take the bag of coin for herself. From the short glance she gave him, she seemed young, though the way she fought told him otherwise. As she bolted out the door, leaving the bloody wounded scoundrels cowering on the floor, Baz immediately rose to his feet and shook off the slight dizziness that overcame him. Normally, he would not care so much that his winnings were stolen, since swindling some silver away from stupid people was fairly easy for him. But that bag held a few of his other, more personal belongings: a few Rosenite-style runes, some fancy wine in a decorative flask, and the only picture he owned of his daughter. Needless to say, he was pissed to have it taken.

Following her out into the street, Baz unhitched the bow from his back, pulling an arrow from his boot to prepare it. Tracking her wasn't hard, because she foolishly left a trail of coins behind her. Eventually, the man reached the alley where the girl had hidden. For a moment, he stopped to observe her odd features, mostly the pitch black eyes. Perhaps she was a demon, or an elf, or maybe some type of fae… Baz really didn't care. Leaning against the wall, he casually addressed her. "You know, if you wanted my silver, you could've just asked nicely." He drew his bow and aimed it at her. Though he wasn't quite as adept a fighter as she showed herself to be, he wasn't going to back down until she returned what was his. "Give me my belongings and I'll let you keep the money that I earned."

Feyre tensed as a voice rang out through the dark alley, but upon catching sight of the red hair, she quickly relaxed. She smirked, standing up swiftly, a dagger in one hand and the bag in the other. The Fae gave him a once over as she sauntered over to him, seemingly unaffected by the arrow pointed at her.

"You can have the bag back." She said, holding it out for him. "I only needed a few gold pieces anyways."

 Feyre spoke with a cheery tone, grinning up at the ginger as she waited for him to take his belongings. Her eyes darted to the arrow still pointing her way and her eyes glinted playfully. This was the most excitement she'd had in days, and she wasn't going to let the fun die so soon.

Baz had to suppress a grimace at the girl's unfazed response, disappointed that he wasn't threatening enough to scare her. Honestly, though, what did he expect? She'd effortlessly taken down two pirates twice her size back in the tavern. He held the arrow firm, the tip nearly touching her nose, before lowering the weapon to take his bag. Quickly, he rifled through it to make sure everything was there. It was, along with most of the silver. His hand emerged with the picture of Philomel, which he swiftly stuck into his pocket, then he slung his bag over his shoulder. 

He raised an eyebrow at the girl, wondering what her ulterior motive was– everyone in this city had one. Her eyes, though a bit unnerving, had a spark of playfulness in them, and he wondered if she was just looking for a bit of fun. "Well, if you need money that badly…" he leaned his face closer, cautiously keeping his bow ready, just in case. "…with your exceptional skills in battle and my prowess at gambling, I'm sure we could rob this town blind." His gray-blue eyes glimmered with excitement. It had been a while since he'd resorted to thievery, but he wasn't complaining. No one would ever catch him, if he had her.

Feyre's heart was still racing, even after he put the arrow down. She should've known better than to take a risk like that, but the adrenaline high from the tavern was still pumping through her system. A smug smile stretched her lips as she mulled over the offer. She's never had a business proposition or a partner before, but there's a first time for everything. 

"Deal." She agreed, reaching a hand up to swiftly flick his nose, before taking a step back.

Feyre did not actually need the money, she had no desire to be rich, but the offer was too good to refuse. She craved adventure of any sorts. and this task seemed wild and fun enough to intrigue her. 

"Luckily thievery is right down my alley" She mused with a proud grin, waiting for him to catch onto the pun.

He couldn't keep the grin from spreading on his lips. Of course Baz wanted to be disinterested in the woman, but damn if he wasn't a sucker for girls with puns. "Then by all means, let us steal away from this darkness," he replied with a wink, stepping back out into the better-lit street. He considered the fact that she might have been a great deal younger than he was, but, then again, there were multiple species in Revaliir whose physical appearances lagged behind their true age. So he decided that going on an escapade with her was probably harmless.

"Name's Bonifaz," he greeted with a glance back at the girl, his freckly face filled with adventure. "Most people call me Baz, but that's just 'cause it's shorter." His eyes surveyed the bustling crowd of people, spotting a table set up on the other side of the street. It had a man leading one of those street games that was supposed to be rigged– one where you were supposed to keep track of a card that he replaced while he shuffled them. Impossible.

But it wasn't impossible, if you knew what card the man asked you to find. Raising a hand to point it out to her, Baz smirked deviously. "I can get him to get mad by beating his game. Meanwhile, you swipe his coin." The plan was fairly simple, but the night was still young and would provide more interesting opportunities as it got later. That was when the wealthier ruffians came out to play.

Feyre slipped the hood of her simple cloak over her head as they ventured back out into the street. Her eyes followed to where the devious Ginger, or Baz, pointed. She studied the man's gaming table and the small coin bag hanging over his shoulder. Her eyes narrowed in on the bag as her brows furrowed slightly. It seemed to have a clasp of some sorts that she would need to flip open before she could reach into it, but it was doable. 

Turning back to her new accomplice, she sketched a teasing bow and pointed towards the table. "Lead the way Baz" She said cheerily, testing out the name he gave. Feyre saw the way his eyes shone pridefully when he came up with the plan. He was a swindler and a damn good one at that, as far as she could tell. Maybe a partner in crime wasn't such a bad idea after all, as long as he didn't get caught. And if they did get caught, she just hopes he runs as well as he gambles. 

Following Baz over to the tables, she kept her head down and stayed right behind him. He stops a little bit aways from the table and she stretches up on her tiptoes, attempting to reach the ear on that too tall head of his. "You can call me Feyre" She whispers, so no one else would pick up on the name, before slipping away and into the crowd.