The night air from the country outside filtered into the room as Nikto poked her head above the sill of the window, her eyes carefully examining the chamber. She knew that the door to this room would be locked, as it always was, but the merchant to whom she was enserviced to was fond of airflow in every room of his manor, even the one that held his valuables; and that meant there was an open window to every room and hall in the place. Of course, considering that this room was on the second story, that wasn't considered much of an issue by those whose task it was to guard the manor. After all, who would be mad enough to climb the walls of a manor constantly patrolled day and night by armed guards with orders to arrest or kill anyone that was not supposed to be there? Someone that had taken the time to memorize each guard's patrol route, bad habits, and figure out the exact moment when the two below would be otherwise occupied and not doing their job. One was staring wistfully into the servants quarters hoping he might get a glance at one of the women changing, as foolish a notion and futile a task as that was. The other was relieving his bladder on the manor wall, as he did at this time every single night he was on patrol. Neither was interested in looking up at the young woman silently lifting herself up and over the sill of the open window into their employer's most sacred of rooms: his treasury.

Her feet were bare, silently pressed against the floor as she came down, still wary and watchful. Her brown eyes watched the crack under the door and the light that spilled underneath it for any disturbance that would indicate someone moving nearby. She did not even dare to breathe as she waited for twenty long heartbeats. When that came and went, she crept over to the desk inside the room where the merchant kept all of his books. She could not read, so they were useless to her, but the chest she was looking for was kept here, under the desk. Nikto took special note of the dust patterns near the legs of the desk from careless maids eager to be done with their tasks, and made care not to disturb them as she took stock of what she was going to be working with. Her Halie identity had never managed to be trusted enough to clean in this room, but open ears had allowed her to overhear enough details to get a good idea. She slowly reached into the braids of hair she had dyed golden blonde and withdrew a set of picks she had been using as pins. Her hair fell around her shoulders as the picks stabbed forward, and she began fiddling with the lock.

She had not spent long at this manor outside of Vasiliadon, but there had not been much of a need to. For a wealthy man, this merchant had not been very concerned about security. When she had presented herself as Halie, a young maidservant seeking work, she hadn't needed to add much to her mask's story before they hired her on and put her to work. Personally, Nikto might have found herself to be suspicious, but the trusting nature of this man had turned out in her favor, after all. Eight weeks was what it had taken for her to get to this moment. Eight weeks behind the mask, answering to another name, speaking with another's voice. Some might have found that exhausting, or mentally straining. But that was what she had done her entire life. Never had Nikto known another life than this, the one of the nameless thief. She had not spoken in her own voice or looked upon another with her own face for over a decade, and would not even recognize it if she did. She was a ghost, a phantom looking out through the eyes of a puppet crafted from flesh that no one could see, nor cared to. 

The click of the lock on the chest drew her out of her thoughts, and had her focused on the now. Slowly and deliberately she drew open the lid of the chest, and smiled as the low moonlight from the outside night sky reflected off of gold, creating an unmistakable glint. Slung across her shoulder was an empty rucksack, which she brought close to the chest, and began to fill it. She was careful to keep the bottom of the rucksack off the ground to keep the gold from hitting the floor, and placed each coin herself to avoid the clink of touching coins that would come from simply dropping them into the rucksack. It was a very slow process, but she had done it enough times by now to go through it automatically without needing much thought to go into it. She had gone through this whole venture without really considering what she was going to do with the money. She never did, after all. It was not part of some grand scheme or overarching plan, her thieving. It was simply what she did. A dog served its masters, a cow grazed grass, the wind blew, the sun rose and set, and Nikto stole.

When her hands found not the cold bite of gold but the smooth surface of wood, Nikto knew that the chest was empty. From there, it was simply a matter of selecting what would fit into her rucksack from the room. A selection of candlesticks, some nice jewels for the merchant's wife, and the merchant's seal, made from gold itself. She wrapped all of these in cloth tightly, slipping them in so that they would not clink and shuffle and bang and make noise. She needed to stay quiet for her escape. With that over and done with, it was only a matter of securing the top of the rucksack and making sure it stayed tight on her back. That was it. The easy part was over. Now came the part where she had to get out with her ill-gotten gains. She went towards the window, but hesitated. Biting her bottom lip, she took out one single coin, and took the time to scratch a symbol into its soft surface, placing it on the desk. It was a simple 'N', her calling card. The only clue that she had ever been here.

The wind bit at her exposed skin as she went out the window, glancing down to see that the courtyard was temporarily clear. Shifting slowly along the sill, she found her handhold, and swung herself to the next window, dropping down so only her hands clung to the sill. Her body dangled, but only for a moment as she steadied herself, moving her hands slowly and deliberately, pausing her movement whenever a guard moved beneath her, holding her breath to make as little noise as possible. From window to window she went, until she found the main entrance. Down from the window to the grass, keeping low and behind bushes until she was crouched behind  the one next to the main gate, a guard only inches from her. There, she stayed as still as death, only daring to breathe whenever the guard yawned, dulling his senses a moment each time. She was waiting for when the cook and his slaves would take a wagon out of the manor grounds and to the city itself, just before sunrise, to buy supplies from the city markets. For hours she waited, her heart pounding in her ears, the stolen treasure held tightly to her chest.

Finally, she could hear the sounds of the wagon's wheels, and the curses of the cook as he forced the mules pulling it to move forward. The guard next to her, moved along with his counterpart to make way, just as they always did. She had to time this exactly right, or she was done for. She counted each turn of the wheels, ensuring that her rucksack was shifted to where it clung to her chest as tight as it could, waiting for her moment. And with the right number sounding off in her mind, she took her chance. Lying flat on the ground, she rolled, the cries of the mules and the creaks of the wheels covering the sound. Her body missed the wheel by inches, and the moment she was underneath the wagon, her arms shot up to secure a hold on the axle, her feet doing the same. Her back lifted up off the ground, and she went along with the wagon, her muscles straining as she held herself like that. But no one had noticed, and no alarm was raised as Nikto left the manor with the most valuable treasures that their master held.

She only had to maintain the difficult position for about forty five minutes, when the cook stopped the wagon to relieve himself against a tree. That was when she slipped from under the wagon, and crawled under a bush, waiting until the wagon was well out of sight before she came out, standing up. She smiled, invigorated at the success of her heist. It had gone off without a hitch or flaw, and she had what she had come for. Of course, there was the question of 'what now' that she had to answer. That made her frown a moment as she pondered that very query. What now? Where to next? What to do with her gold? Her eyes were drawn to the tracks of the wagon, and Vasiliadon in the distance. Taking in a sharp and deep breath, she shrugged. Why not? She had yet to ply her trade in the city, after all, and they would not be wise to her tricks. She could make good money in the city. A small voice in her head reminded her that money was not what she was after, but she ignored it as she pointed herself in the right direction, and began to walk.

Slipping past the cities guards without notice was child's play. As was using some of her stolen money to buy a new set of clothes, ingredients for hair dye, and other trinkets she needed for her 'Karyna' mask. The rest of the money she deposited without circumstance in the streets of the poorer section of the city and simply slipped away into an alley. Finding an open window into a private bathhouse currently unoccupied, she washed the blonde dye out of her hair and the dust off of her skin. For a moment, she was able to see the natural dark brain hue of her hair, but it was not to last. Before long, her homeopathic remedies had turned it a dark fiery copper, and she allowed it to flow down her back, wild and unkempt. She changed her serving girl's outfit for the bright colors of a performer, greens and blues and violets, vibrant and pure. Finally, she stared into the water of the bath, into her own reflection. It took her a moment to remember the voice Karyna used. Colchian. Karyna was Colchian, and spoke with the accent of those isles. She tested it out, her lips parting to speak in the feigned accent:

"I am no one. I am no one. I am no one." Her mantra changed as she lightly traced a finger through the water, disturbing its surface with ripples and distorting her reflection. "I am Karyna. I am Karyna. I am Karyna." She repeated the phrase until it felt natural, and her grasp on the accent was firm. She could pass for a native speaker, if one didn't look too closely or listen to the exact pronunciation of every individual word. Enough to work for now. If she wished for any extended work or opportunities, she would need to work on it more.

Leaving the bath house the same way she had entered, Nikto followed the flow of foot traffic, keeping her head down and notice away until she had found what she was looking for. A central place, with plenty of performers and musicians already here. Perfect. This would be her chance to scout out the people of the city, and find any marks worth popping her Vasiliadon cherry with. She found a decently clear spot, and once more went into her rucksack. She tied brightly colored streamers to her wrists and ankles, and closed her eyes, taking in deep breaths. And she began to move.

A series of acrobatics followed. Cartwheels, flips, handstands, and sweeping moves meant to draw attention to her streamers and long fiery hair that flowed along with her. It did draw attention, some people stopping their commutes and lives to watch, laughing, clapping, and calling out encouragement. But no one worth paying attention to, yet. Nikto would continue her performance of agility and acrobatics, waiting for someone to come and make themselves worthy of her further investigation.