Bare toes, caked in filth stepped lightly onto the floor and Murmur Muck swore heavily as the soft soles of her feet made contact with yet another loose rock, before stepping quickly to avoid the tread of heavy heels and market carts.

The market was busy , the familiar shout of traders filling her ears whilst rich spices filled her nostrils though business moved quickly due to the weather and very few punters stopped to browse. On a day like this, Murmur went by virtually unnoticed- anyone could see from her stained clothes and bare feet that she didn’t have the money for what they were selling. This suited her perfectly, she had about as much intention of exchanging money with the traders as she did of taking a bath with a member of the seventen.

The tiny stall she selected was on the outskirts of the market, shoes and boots hanging from strings- brought from a local cobbler, they looked almost like hunted animals that had been killed, plucked and strung up on meat hooks to let the blood drip onto the floor. She eyed the leather hungrily but ducked out of the way to avoid the eye of the seller, all Murmur had to do now was wait.

Her stomach growled and the hipflask she carried was empty save for the faint whiff of whiskey but Murmur did not have long to dwell on this. From the stall, a woman purchased a pair of boots that would definitely suit Murmur; flat and practical made of stiff leather, plain but clearly well crafted. Money changed hands and the woman slipped the shoebox under her arm before heading up the market. Murmur followed keeping a safe distance.

After a few paces, Murmur made her move, speeding up into a jog and affecting a heavy pant, she approached the woman and tapped her on the shoulder.

“’Scuse me, miss,” said Murmur, still pretending to pant and pulling a face that she hoped could at least pass for anguished. “Did you jus’ buy those boots from the stall back there?”

The woman stood down wind of Murmur, who by her own admission stank worse than a barrel full of squid on a hot day so Murmur shifted herself a little in a rare act of charity. It was the least Murmur could do before she ran off with this woman’s new shoes.

“I knew it were ye,” beamed Murmur before taking a deep breath as though preparing for the performance of a lifetime, and bit her lip , “I’m so glad I’ve found ye…see, I’m his apprentice- the cobbler’s, I mean. He’s a cruel man, beats me whenever I make a mistake he does.”

Murmur pointed to her eye, which was still slightly purple from the latest bar fight and smiled to reveal a set of small yellowing teeth and the huge gap where her front teeth had been knocked out years ago, “I make mistakes a lot,” added Murmur sadly, thinking idly to herself shove it up your erse Lillian Loveheart - there‘s a new actress on the scene….

The woman did her best not to be utterly disgusted by the monstrosity of a woman that had advanced on her. She looked at the eye, then the boots.

"Wha...I don't understand. Why do you want to see me then?"

The woman was probably quite simple, she had that air about her. Murmur liked it when they were at a least a little simple, but the lack of sympathy in her voice made Murmur feel a little worried. So she just turned the whole act up a notch; looking at the ground and sighing softly, playing with her hair in a nervous manner.

“Well, this mistake is my biggest to date, see," she said sadly, " those shoes he give ye were meant for someone else- but I got ‘em all mixed up, they weren't even supposed to be out on display. Stupid, stupid..."

She paused dramatically for a moment

“I‘ll be beaten til’…‘til my eyes bleed for this unless I return the shoes this minute” Murmur extended her arm hopefully, “so if ye’ll just give 'em to me I’ll return them..."

admittedly, things weren't looking good, so she added...

"and I'll have a pair of boots custom made up for you in next to no time, I swear. Free of charge, of course. Just come back to the stall before the week's up and ask for Sara- that's me.” Murmur smiled broadly with her mouth shut, she looked at least a little better with her mouth shut.

The woman clutched the leather boots to her a little fearfully. This just didn't seem right.



"Well...I...uh..." Her eyes darted left and right, looking for someone else to witness them. Clutching her purchase a tighter, she shook her head.

"N..No. I'll return with you and we shall sort it out there."

Oh fantastic,
thought Murmur watching the woman hug her package as though it were a newborn baby. Not as simple as she’d hoped. This was a risk she played in Old Rose, where people were always more on their guards than the fat, inbred gollies over in Vienda with more money than sense.

She weighed up the options; cutting and running or seeing the scam all the way through. They were nice boots and it wasn’t as though she had much to lose- nothing was on fire yet, so things could still work out better than most of her cons.

She smiled, trying to look nonplussed. Confidence, Murmur, is the name of the game.

“If it’s no trouble, ma’am…I mean, I don’t want to inconvenience you or nothing ,” she improvised wildly trying in vain to establish a little bit of rapport with the mark, “I know how people get when the weather’s like this, jus’ wanna get straight home, no messin about. I really am very sorry about the mix up…but if you’re sure,” she started forward in the direction of the stall, like she knew exactly what she was doing, the woman followed…

“probably sensible, you never know what weirdos are lurkin’ around here waiting te-” Murmur tripped theatrically over an imaginary rock and fell to the floor, face down.

(( hey darl, just for future referance, please don't assume characters/NPC's movements or actions. ))

The woman took a step towards the woman cautiously, neck stretched out like a turtle from its shell.

"Will he give me my money back? I'm not leaving without my money or a pair of boots." As Murmur fell, she hestitated, finally the good person in her won over.

"Are you okay?" She asked, approaching Murmur from the side.

((Whoops sorry...tiny little slip there))

I've done smarter things before, thought Murmur, nose pressed into the dirt, the fall had been a lot heavier than she'd anticipated. But the pathetic act of desperation seemed to have given her something more than time.



"I'm fine,"said Murmur sheepishly, "Just a little faint. The cobbler doesn't really give me much to eat" Murmur pretended to have difficulty sitting up, breathing heavily, "...says I can't expect too much since I aint earnin' my keep at the moment, what with all the mistakes."



Still on the floor, Murmur nodded "Shouldn't be a problem gettin' a new pair of boots." she frowned. "But you might wanna wait outside...he might get violent wi' me again an' you seem like a nice person...I'd hate for you te get caught in the middle. Might end up lookin like me," Murmur said through her hideous smile.

The woman paled visibly.

"No...I mean...you..I'll..alright then."

Watching the woman adopt an expression that could only be described as beyond horrified, Murmur had to wonder why marks always thought that looking like her was easily the worst threat she could give them.

Still, it didn't do to dwell on things she couldn't change. Murmur stood up quickly, quite forgetting she was supposed to be a malnourished, barely competent cobbler's apprentice for a minute, a mistake she rectified when she remembered she was a malnourished, barely competent grifter and her tummy growled like a chrove who'd been punched in the groinal area.

"Yes well," said Murmur, smiling over her stomach, "if ye give me the boots now, i'll go in an' come back with yer money. This mess'll be sorted, ye can go home, an' hopefully I'll get te keep the few teeth I have left in me head."

The woman eyed Murmur for a moment longer, before finally handing over the boots. She didn't look like she wanted to, but at the same time, she didn't want to start trouble.

"I'll...uh...I'll be waiting right here then?"