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[sub][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-u8xk9uaMpI][color=dodgerblue]"A fool is one of two things. An idiot or an actor. Both are easy marks."[/color][/url][/sub]
[hr]

[h3]The Parade[/h3]

Opal Lennox heard the jubilation from the comfort of one of the caravan wagons. Such celebrations offered her little in the way of joy or concern, but it wasn't just a distaste for people celebrating such a silly event that kept her away from the limelight; it was far better for her not to risk being spotted by one of the many people lining the streets and causing a ruckus. The odds were high that at least one of them would recognize her for a swindle or two, and that sort of attention was not welcome. Wasn't that the point of this expedition, for Opal anyway, to let the heat cool? Funny how living a life of lies had the side effect of catching up to someone. 

The wagon also offered Opal a moment to reflect on the night previous, when she said her goodbyes through the impersonal method of a forgery. What other choice did she have? How could she explain it to her proper and regal parents that she was going to say damn the aristocracy and their smug ways in order to join an expedition that good money says won't come back at all? And to say nothing of how she could explain the cons, the numerous deceptions that were her entire being now. Opal could lie better than anyone she knew...but even she didn't enjoy the idea of lying to the people that raised her. But the truth would hurt even more.

And so she left a simple note writ in a rushed scratch stating simply that Ophelia Harrington had been kidnapped and details of the ransom would follow shortly. A lie, yes, but an indirect one. A bitter pill to swallow. Opal couldn't afford to think of the Harrington family or her old life; while the population took to the streets to celebrate a caravan of fools, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington were no doubt bawling their eyes out damning whoever could do such a thing. They might even go to the guard but by that point Opal had expected to be well beyond the walls of Oasis, either one step closer to unearned riches or dead in the sand. 

Saying goodbye was easier now. For all intents and purposes, Ophelia Harrington was dead, and as Opal shut the locket containing a photo of a younger, happier Ophelia, she was buried too. As the wagon and the caravan it was part of slowly made its way through the streets, Opal ran over the con in her head. She had to get into character; this was the long con to end all long cons and any slip up would spell the end of the ruse. In her head, the basics were repeated like a sort of mantra: [i][color=dodgerblue]'My name is Miss Opal Lennox, I'm a merchant by trade in search of objects no other trader can offer. Twenty Seven years young, my father, bless the man, worked as a music man in a dive until sickness took him from us. My mother...shit'[/color][/i] Opal shook her head as the fictional biography fell apart. The trick was to have occupations that were defined but just vague enough to not invite further questioning. The second trick was never to be the same age as you were, which is why Opal always went two years higher than her actual, it added credibility to the image of demure merchant. 

As the caravan continued towards the gate, with the wagon bouncing and rocking along, Opal remained quiet well into the evening, only daring to come out after nightfall once her story was down pat. 

It wasn't until the following morning that her eyes would start to identify potential suckers.

[hr]

[h3]The Next Day[/h3]

Opal remained in the wagon for the morning leg of the journey, conversing only briefly with others who sought shelter from either the sun or the difficulty of riding or walking along. No one truly stuck out, but then the ones that stuck out were a crapshoot. The ordinary ones made for the easiest marks while the ones drawing attention were rarely worth the time or the effort. And based on who was leading this caravan...Opal would take her chances on someone else. Of course she'd heard of him, who in Oasis hadn't at least by reputation? Opal almost pegged him for a fellow confidence man, but any good con artist knew the value in keeping things simple...and Hannibal was anything but. 

When the caravan slowed, Opal left the wagon and took her first steps outside Oasis. Even in the setting dusk the heat was felt, especially given her black attire. The price one pays for looking the part. But she at least had the benefit of a full day's rest and was easily able to keep up with the front of the pack, albeit just enough paces back so as to not seem like she was getting involved. Recon. She spotted the caravan captain easily enough, the idiot had his sword out like he was posing for a photograph. Opal was surprised to find someone else joining in the sword waving lunacy. The red hair and that little swagger...Opal had heard the story of a band of thieves that once attempted to rob the Queen of all people though she recalled not the name. It didn't matter anyway, it just proved that the red haired woman was a shitty thief. Opal knew the best way to rob someone was just to have them GIVE their items to you. Still, a potential mark, though perhaps it was prudent to wait until the girl had something worth taking. 

Another familiar sight rode near to them. Opal doubted there was any among the high class that didn't know of the Nekroz Betrayal. It was all the aristocracy cared to talk about for weeks after it occurred. Opal was curious as to why the daughter was on this fool's errand, but the curiosity turned soon to concern. Was it possible that the Nekroz daughter would see through the disguise? A test for later, but for now it was better to simply not get involved. But again, another potential mark. A man in leather counted himself among the roster, though Opal knew him not. He was quiet, that was a good sign, and that was all she needed to know at present. Opal's eyes were taken by an especially tall woman with a rather exotic look to her. She was speaking to the leather wearing quiet man and she wondered for a brief moment if they were a pair. They certainly looked the most...seasoned of the bunch, though given the competition was two loud mouthed sword twirlers and a disgraced daughter it wasn't high praise. 

[color=dodgerblue]"Two fools, two serious sorts, and a would-be kindred spirit. Not looking great."[/color] Opal spoke to herself with a soft sigh. [color=dodgerblue]"I expect half of them not to make it longer than a month. The thief, the daughter, the leatherman, and the giant...now which one is lucky number one?"[/color] 

She looked again to Hannibal and shook her head, writing him off as a target immediately. Not worth it. Not at all. [color=dodgerblue]"Bit early for the sauce. We're being led by a drunkard."[/color] Opal had her work cut out for her, but no one said the life of a con artist was easy.[/center]

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