His wet, bare feet noisily slapped hard in the snow covered cobbles of the streets. Naked, Grant ran through the colossal crown city, goose pimples breaking throughout his flesh as the cold winter wind whipped past him. His feet slid on the cobbles as he sharply took a corner around an acrid smelling building. Possibly a tanner. Grant’s eyes darted around the street looking for an escape route.
Behind him the court jester rounded the corner first. His eyes glistened from the reflection off the sheet white winter world around him. Breathing heavy through clenched teeth, and bells jangling with every step, these are the only ways Grant is able to tell how close the Jester follows. He didn’t want to take the time or chance to look back, lest he miss a step or lose some headway on the fool. He knew without looking that the jester had in a vice grip, a handle to a dagger in reverse.
Shortly after, around the corner came the bishop. If Grant’s memory served him well, the red-faced bishop, huffing and puffing, did not carry a weapon with him. Instead he was hiking the front of his robes over his knees, so that he could run unhindered. The bishop, being such a round fellow, should soon start to lose steam.
And last in the procession, barely able to stay on his two feet as he went around the corner too fast, would be a royal guardsman of Rhodalia. The poor man, weighted down by all of his heavy armor was rapidly falling behind. This man, Mauthus Giordoni, would chase him to the ends of the world to ensure his place in Queen Lucianna’s eyes. Grant, being a man that was quite good at paying attention to all of the details, had caught the way the soldier looked at her. So of course, this man would leap on an opportunity to prove his heroic disposition.
Barreling through the frozen streets, the unlikely parade shoved and jostled anyone that wandered too close. Most of the people going about their business however, stopped and gawked at such a strange sight.
As a last minute decision, Grant quickly spun around another corner, and almost too late realized a pauper was laying against the wall. He quickly jumped the prone man, and fought for a moment to keep his footing as he landed. The jester however tripped over the man. At this moment Grant decided to look over his shoulder, and couldn’t help but laugh as he saw the jester lift his face out of the snow, only to have it rammed back down again when the bishop fell onto him. Taking advantage of the distraction, he turned into a very narrow alley, shoved the egg he was running with into his mouth, and he wedged himself between the two alley walls. Back against one wall, and feet against the other, he started to scale up the walls.
Painful as the bricks in the wall digging into his back was, Grant had to keep in mind not to grit his teeth, or else he’d crush the small egg he still held in his mouth. Once he got to the level of the second story, he tested the window beside him and found that it was unlocked. He grinned, as best as one can with an egg in his mouth and slid it open with one hand. Then grabbing the ledge, he let his body drop and dragged himself through the opening. Once inside he glanced around to find himself in a small bedroom with no one inside.
Grant slowly peeked his head out the window just enough to see if his “friends” knew where he was. He saw the jester looking down the alley and back to the street. It also looked like the fool had managed to slice his cheek pretty deep when falling, close call. Grant quickly pulled his head in. He was excited. With a little luck and patience, Grant was home free. He spat the egg into his hand and smiled widely. A little luck was no problem. For The Sable Fox thought himself to be a very lucky man indeed. A man with untold gifts.