Maeve of blades
“Here kitty kitty, good little kitty…” The idiotic frenchman leaned down to pet the “kitty” in the dark corner. What he saw was potentially cute, but undeniably deadly. A quick shing of blades, and an uncomfortable wet sound, and the frenchman would never pet a cat again.
Maeve chuckled as she examined the proceeds of her last outing. The money was good and all, but the coat she had acquired off the body intrigued her. it was immaculately crafted, and clearly worth a lot, but the interesting part about it was that once Maeve had got the article back to her lair, it seemed to have shrunk. Shrunk just enough that if maeve were to put it on, it would have fit her perfectly. If she were that stupid. The coat was obviously magic, and time on the streets would teach you that magic things should not be tampered with.
The next morning, Maeve set out to be rid of the coat. She knew a dealer in town who dealt in magic items. It was a brisk morning, and market day so Maeve was able to snag a few purses on her way across town. So swept up in the color and noise of the busy streets was Maeve that she didn’t notice the two guards who had seen her swipe a purse, and were now on her tail.
Finally, the guards caught up to Maeve, and one of them put their hand on her shoulder, only to release it when he found himself suddenly on the ground, with a blade at his throat. Several more guards joined the other of the original pair, and fanned out. “Drop the blade, girl, and no one has to get hurt,” the guard’s voice was gruff, yet caring, however Maeve had taught herself not to give in to the tricks of the officials. She knew that as soon as she put down her knife, she would be surrounded, and it would be over for her. Instead, she released her hostage, and made like she was going to put down her knife. Then she ran.
The coat started slipping out of Maeve’s grasp, but she didn’t want to lose it, so in a split second she threw it on over her normal clothes. Immediately, Maeve felt a change; she could run faster, jump higher, and felt altogether more agile and powerful. Seeing a building ahead that was easy to climb, Maeve leapt as high as she could and grabbed a ledge. Maeve was almost at the top, when a crossbow bolt came out of nowhere, and broke off the handhold Maeve was holding onto. Maeve fell, screaming, and closed her eyes, bracing for impact, but it never came. Instead, Maeve felt tile beneath her feet, and heard the angry shouts of the guards below her. Maeve opened her eyes, and saw that she was not falling, not lying on the ground, but standing, unharmed, on the roof of the building she had just fallen off of.
Confused, and more than a little shaken, Maeve made her way across the rooftops to get back home.
Considering that the coat had saved Maeve’s life, she decided against selling it, and instead decided to explore its possibilities. Over the next few weeks, Maeve discovered that the coat gave her the ability to teleport a short distance away, and could heal her minor wounds almost as soon as she got them.
Over the next few weeks, one side effect of the coat emerged, Maeve’s hair, while normally dirty blonde, had become a shocking pink. While this made her much more distinct in a crowd, the coat’s powers made it so that Maeve almost never even encountered anyone who wished her ill long enough for them to see the change.
With her newfound power, Maeve grew rich enough that she could afford a real apartment now. A modest thing, but it had a fireplace, and that made the nights, which quickly became very cold as winter approached, much more manageable. Her increased wealth also allowed more time for things like learning to throw knives, which Maeve had always longed to know how to do. Maeve’s life settled into a comfortable routine, and her days were happy. For a time.