Nah, she thought, best to wait until after I've done their dirty work.

She let the slushy mess drop back to the cobbles, and moved through town toward the Imperial Quarter. There the original inhabitants of Messemprar had built the government center and the massive temple of Gilgeam. The government center was still in use, and the temple had been converted to a barracks for foreign mercenaries. She entered Gilgeam's Altar, renamed the Plaza of the Northern Wizards, and poked around for Port Street.

Moving slowly down Port, she studied the various signs and sigils on the buildings. Some hung from poles, while others were rendered in peeling paint directly onto the stone or wood of the walls. Up ahead, she saw a well-crafted sign of carved wood, suspended from an arm of green brass. It had a large, well-rendered wing on it, spread wide as if flying, painted in blacks and blues. She drew closer and saw two glyphs, one painted on each side of the door, ancient pictograms representing an abbreviation for Wing's Reach. A sign on the door read, "Purveyors of fine goods, antiques, exotics, and curios."

She casually circled the building. It was an older edifice, solidly built and impeccably maintained. Ornamental carvings of gods, animals, and other more abstract items encrusted the building's circumference, delineating the separation between its three floors. No hint of moss or accumulated dirt could be found in the seams of the smooth stonework. Heavy shutters covered the various windows, and looked like they would do well at keeping the chill at bay. When left open on a summer's day they'd surely admit a nice, cool ocean breeze through the place.

Smoke issued from at least one chimney. According to Kehrsyn's map, there were two main fire pits, one in the kitchen and one in the main hall. Other fireplaces could be found in the best living quarters on the third floor. There were four staircases, situated more or less in the corners of the building. Doors opened onto Port Street, Angle Street, and an alley behind the building, and a generous supply of wide windows adorned the upper floors.

With the weather, the only portals to the building likely to be open were the front door and the chimneys. Just to see, though, Kehrsyn tried the rear door, which she assumed was the servants' entry. The bolt had been thrown, and it was secured with a dwarven bronze lock, which was an obstacle Kehrsyn was not certain she could overcome.

That left the front door and the chimney.

Either way, she thought with concern, I'll be dropping right into the fire.

She was confident in her ability to move quietly and to use the natural camouflage of light and shadow. Those were tricks that had kept her alive since childhood. She trusted in her natural dexterity, her lightness of touch, and her ability to prevent collateral noises when pilfering. She was concerned, however, with her ability to get doors opened, especially if they were locked or ensorcelled.

The fear of becoming enchanted, blasted, or turned to stone gave Kehrsyn pause. Magic that might disfigure or cripple her made the score not worth the risk… until she reminded herself that the alternative was to be turned in for the murder of a Zhent guard. She drew in a deep breath between her teeth, tried to evict such thoughts from her mind, and steeled herself for the task at hand.

She studied the building from a safe vantage point down the street. She pulled out the map and pored over it, correlating the exterior features with the interior layout. She marked the streets and nearby doors and side streets, as well as the various items in the alley-items that might be obstacles or cover.

Then she ran through a variety of potential scenarios for breaking in and navigating the building. Many did not seem feasible, and the rest required moving through areas that were, in all probability, occupied by the inhabitants. She tapped her teeth with her fingernail as she thought through the possibilities and outcomes, then tried to divine ways to defeat the various weak points of her plans. For once, she was happy for the nightly dragnets that sought to evict her from the city. They had given her much practice in developing strategies, foreseeing complications, and preparing fallback plans.

The cold slowly crept through her cloak and clothing as she sat inactive, but she didn't notice until the map started trembling with her shivers. She got up, put away her map, picked up her bag, and began walking briskly away, looking to warm herself with exertion.

As she walked past the corner of Wing's Reach, she failed to notice the sorceress watching her from a nearby rooftop.

Kehrsyn purchased a light dinner, but the butterflies in her stomach kept her from eating it all. The night weighed on her mind with everything that could go wrong, and the worry seemed to make her burned left arm throb all the more.

Dusk was beginning to fall, so Kehrsyn pushed her plate away and left the small, crowded dining room of the resting house. As she stepped into the street, she saw that the snow had grown from occasional flurries to a continuous, if light, fall.

That was the first thing that could go wrong. The more snow that fell by the time she made her getaway, the easier it would be to track her. Kehrsyn would have to strike earlier than she wanted to.

She maneuvered to a wide thoroughfare and looked for the cordon of soldiers. Seeing them approaching, herding a variety of vagrants before them, she took her pouch of coins into her hand, loosened the drawstring, and waited until she saw a sizeable cluster of people moving up the street. A pair of families and assorted pairs and trios, all moved in a dispersed group for their respective homes. Kehrsyn strode out into the street, pacing her step so that she would be at their head.

As she approached the soldiers, she nodded in greeting and began to stride past as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As she tried to slide through their ranks, one soldier reached out and grabbed her right arm, just below the elbow. As he did that, she jerked her hand against his grip and spilled her purse of coins. The silvers and coppers scattered across the cobbles.

As expected, some of the other people-all the refugees and even a few of those with homes-made a quick move to try to retrieve some of the coins, causing the soldiers to turn their attention to them. Kehrsyn berated the soldier who'd "made" her spill her valuables, then quickly recovered as many of her coins as possible, pointing to various stray coins for other soldiers to recover.

Naturally, those who were about to be evicted from the city tried to use the confusion to work their way back through the cordon and hide away. Though the soldiers were too alert to let that happen, the activity kept them distracted. In the general chaos that followed her accident dent, Kehrsyn concealed herself behind a loud tirade against "careless city constables," an accusation the volume, content, and speaker of which the soldiers were only too happy to ignore.

Seeing that her words fell on deaf ears, she turned on her heel and stomped away. Thus she made her way deeper into the city, unchallenged by those assigned to turn her out.

Once safely out of sight, she counted her coins. She'd lost a silver and three coppers. It would have been more, but her swift and delicate fingers had snitched several pieces back from the open purse of a wealthy resident who'd been helping himself to her spilled coins. As punishment, she'd also slipped one of his gold coins to a particularly needy-looking refugee.

She started to make her way back to Wing's Reach. There were advantages to making her move soon, she reflected. For one, the city guard would still be tied up primarily with ejecting the refugees from the city and therefore be less available to pursue a thief, were they to spot her. The snow was, of course, a second factor, and the chance that Wing's Reach might lock up for the night was a third.