Izzabelle wakes with her start as her stomach turns violently. Twisting, and kicking violently, she wrestles her way up out of the tangled blankets. Barely makes it to an abandoned corner, before becoming violently ill. The visceral green fluid bursts from her mouth, like water from a busted damn. It splatters across the floor in large amounts, as her stomach is purged of the disgusting fluid. The back of her throat, and nasal passages burn, her stomach still clenches forcing up what little remains. Holding her aching abdomen, Izzabelle rolls to her side letting out a pained moan. “Damn those freaking wretches, they probably poisoned the food they tossed out.” Izzabelle grumbles to herself.
After a moment of lying there, she rolls onto her hands and knees, crawling back towards the pile of blankets. Near the Blankets was a small sack, reaching into it she pulls out what meager food that she has. With great despair she destroys it all, “If it’s poisoned I will need to find something new.” She says to herself as her stomach starts to ache once more just looking at it. She would also need to find a way of getting some medicine to help with the poisoning if that was the case. or at least something to calm her stomach, if it was just rotting food. One of the few vagrants that she would sometimes work with, died do to complications brought on by eating rotten food. She recalls angrily how the guards just tossed his body onto the trash heap to be forgotten and burned with the rest of the garbage, that filled the darkened alleys of Stromgarde.
It takes Izzabelle a bit longer then usual to get ready, the bad food from the previous night, leaving her a little weak and disoriented. Yet she was well aware if she waited to long the sun would be to high. The best time to sneak about would be in the early dawn, while the place was just waking up. She would need to try and snatch a coin purse from one of the fat, lazy pig brained guards. It shouldn’t be that hard of a task, if she got enough, she’d be able to purchase herself some medicine and a warm meal. Those thoughts help her get through getting dressed. Grabbing a small canteen she pours what little water she has remaining into her mouth. She then drops it to the floor, near a few empty bottles of cheap alcohol, that tasted like pig swill. “Another reason to get out there, they’re just piling up huh Izzabelle?” With that she makes her way to the exit. She crawls and wiggles her way through a little over twelve feet of compacted tight space. Pulling an old grate aside she climbs out and drops down into the old sewers system in the abandoned part of the city.
She makes her way through the labyrinth of tunnels her, to one of the ladders that will bring her up to the surface. Climbing it she listens to be certain no one is near before pushing the heavy iron cover out of the way, then slips onto the streets. It was a bit later than she would have liked, the pain in her stomach had made getting ready take longer then usual. She would need to be a bit faster today than normal. She moves through the alleys like shadow, weaving in, out, and around homeless vagabonds, thieves much like herself, and the large piles of trash. A few nod as she moves pass them. There were unspoken laws in the back alleys, the biggest being you never took from your own. You could share but you never stole from a fellow thief. The sky is starting to grow lighter as Izzabelle makes her way from the slums to the more habitable parts of the kingdom. This is where she did most of her stealing, the lower-class lived here. Most of them barely scraping by themselves, but they usually had enough so they wouldn’t miss the occasional loaf of bread of hunk of cheese going missing. This however wasn’t her destination this morning. She now takes more care as she moves, there’s not as many places for her to hide now.
After what takes much longer then it should, Izzabelle, makes her way out of an alley between two large buildings. Appearing in the trade district, she quickly conceals herself. Some of the Merchants were already setting up their stalls. The smell of fresh fruits, baked goods, and spices fill the air. Clothing of the highest quality silks are being placed on display. Things she would never have the money to afford, yet she would often dream about such things. Back when she was young and still naive, before she finally excepted her lot in life. As Izzabelle scans the stalls she sees him, the perfect victim. The disgustingly large blob of a guard, was in the midst of cramming two donuts into his mouth. Bits of them were crumbling and rolling down his many chins, before spilling onto the ground. Izzabelle feels a tiny bit of sorrow for the young woman that ran the stall, that the slob was hitting on. As he continuous to fail at impressing the young lady, Izzabelle slowly stealth’s up behind him. Letting out a loud belch he reaches for his coin purse, just as she cuts the strings. The tips of his gross sticky fingers, brush the back of her hand, as they do she turns and runs. The Blob lets out a bellow "THIEF!!" and bounds after her. For someone with more rolls than a bakery he could move pretty fast. Still not fast enough though, dodging through alleys, slipping through open gates and climbing a few walls she’s finally able to lose him.
Izzabelle stays in her hiding place her heart racing as she tries to catch her breath. it isn’t until a few minutes later that she realizes her folly. In her escape from the guard she had run in the wrong direction, the hunger pangs having missed with her senses, then sun was now lighting up the land as it rose higher into the sky. She would need to either remain hidden until nightfall, or risk trying to sneak back.