Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-29461586-20150307233515/@comment-5543592-20150310031138

Perdix slid the Cowl back inside his vest. He tucked his knees into his chest and flipped down from the rafter, tumbling in the air twice, before sticking a three point landing. He gave an imaginary audience a little bow, then sat down by a window, stariing out at the city.

When he was a child one of his punishments, aside from behind stuff in a burlap sack and beaten with reeds, was being locked in his room, which had only one, floorlength, window. Lacking any other source of intertainment, he would sit by it and gaze out over the city, watching people's daily routines. For example, the one Nord lady to lived across the street was out of her house for most of the day. She was someone's maid he imagined. The orc next door was asleep during the light hours. Perdix imagined he had the night shifts at one of the watch towers. The window watching helped set him up for his early crime sprees. It also taught him to observe a target in advance before making a move. Why he was thinking of this now was beyond him, but Perdix was beginning to wonder what kinds of goodies they had locked away in Jorrvaskr.