There are worse things than a broken heart. Well, unless it's not a metaphor. That's pretty bad.
Rapscallion slung his sword in whirling arc of wild abandon, which takes either a great amount or absolute lack of skill. It was a good idea either way, since the air was thick with the shah's assassins. About the only thing in his favor was that he couldn't miss.
Of course, this was a mutual advantage.So he did something clever.
He jumped off of a third-story balcony. Stick with me, it's clever in context.
The assassins jumped after him, naturally. But of course, only half of them could get their daggers into the grand, old royal tapestry below. The benefit really came closer to seventy-five percent, you see, since the other half were down a poison dagger each for the shredding descent.
See? Clever. Of course, he'd overestimated how well century-old fabric holds up. Just...ow.
It was pure luck that he landed on top. He rolled off of the pile, itself on top of a not-even-running fountain. So still... Ow. And sure enough, no sooner than he sighed in relief, a dagger flew right past his face. Ready to fight or die, Rapscallion reached for his deadly shamshir...
...and noticed it sticking out of the low man in the fountain pile. Because why not?
Rapscallion's luck always evens out, you see, just not always so suddenly. So he ran.
Not away, mind you, but back into the palace. He'd come to steal a ruby and, to be honest, does he strike you as the kind of man who gives up? No. Besides, he really did owe a lot of money.
Speaking of no great surprises, the last assassin stalked his heels, dagger slicing a line right through the back of his shirt. He used every dirty trick that he knew, but the killer was dogged and so very determined. It might have something to do with all of the dead coworkers. Maybe.
Rapscallion skipped the stairs, racing right up the banister. The assassin followed.
Rapscallion leaped the landing, to the chandelier. The assassin followed.
He hurtled, hop to spin to scramble, from candle placings. Nope, but impressive.
He even ran sideways on a wall, right up to the master's room. No, not even that.
Running sideways never helps. Out of ideas, he threw one of the shah's pillows and "-Ooof!"
Ooof. He blinked. That had actually worked? About time, you useless luck! He grinned, ignored the still-snoring shah, turned to the shah's most treasured treasure stand...and...
Nothing. The gem was gone. The ruby was gone! The Heart of Blood (stupidly named) was gone!!! Oh, luck, he thought. You really are a wicked bitch.
Then he heard not a thud, but a single, striking crack... He sighed. He looked down to the foyer.
Sure enough, just like he somehow knew...The assassin lay there, a hollow hole in her now-clearly-ample chest. Inside it, the ruby glowed right down the solitary crack.
And of course, the glow was waning. So he did what came naturally.
He stole the whole thing- casing, heartless girl, and all. She'd thank him in the morning, if his luck held.
So no, probably not.
A character’s carelessness destroys something precious.)
(c) 2013 Lawerence Hawkins