Kleftis

Thief

Kleftis was out on the dirty, grimy, filthy streets of this new town. Not new anymore, seeing as he's been there for two years, give or take. He tried earning coin so he could pay for supplies honestly, but that never worked, most jobs required two hands. He tried begging, but he was too big for pity.

Really, he was, the boy of fourteen was over six feet tall. He had no clue how, he hardly ever ate. No fuel for growth.

Sadly, Kleftis had to resort to the last thing he ever wanted to do, live out his name. He would have to steal everything he had. He became very skilled at theft, he could be talking to the person he was stealing from right as he did it. Which turned out to be the most effective way to do it.

He would walk to the vendor, strike up a conversation about any assortment of topics. He could talk about anything going on in the town, where they got the product, a personal conversation about serious matters, or casual ones about the weather. While he was talking, he would run his fingers across the product, feel for the perfect item, and secure it. He would then slip the stolen goods into his pocket and somehow end the conversation, and leave.

Another of his favorite methods to get money was pretty simple. He would choose a target, and tail them until they bought something. He observed where they stored their coin purse. He would follow them for a little bit longer, and start running at them. He would "accidentally" run into them and push them over. He would help them up from the waist or hips, and slip his hand into the pocket where the money was and take it into his own pocket. He would then apologize for the incident and leave.

He was good at these things, too good, he thought. He didn't want his hand in other peoples pockets, it was cruel to steal from others. He wept every night for those that he stole from. Those people could have needed that, desperately. He might have been taking food out of the mouths of hungry children. And for that, he sobbed.