"I guess you're right." Breljorn muttered to the Jester. He didn't quite understand if it was a man or a woman, but either way, it was still good to talk to someone after all this time alone, stealing from those who had made some coin. He had slowly begun questioning his Job choices. He concentrated towards gaining an advantage in assassination, but forgot that money making is still a thing in this game. Shoving his blue hair aside from his eyes, he looked at the two standing near them. "So you guys in?"
Just as Brel said those words, a middle aged man barged in through the door with two guards beside him. Armored fellas had an angry look on their faces as they scouted the inn for someone. They seemed to be looking for a person thinking they're above the law. The man in the middle of two guards looked familiar. Brel was sure he had seen him somewhere, but couldn't really remember where. "There's the guy! He stole the gold!" The old man shouted through the room for everyone to hear, pointing right at Brel. He had that scared,but also vengeful look in his eyes. Brel felt like this was about to go down. He didn't feel like fighting, nor he wanted to give back the gold and spend a month in a dungeon somewhere. The men carrying huge lances and wearing silver white armor rushed towards Brel in hopes to capture him for his deeds. It wasn't like he killed someone... Oh wait, PVP's actually a thing here, unlike reality. With a clinging sound of their armors hitting each part, and the ground, they ran towards Brel. "Sorry, clown, gotta run!" He rushed his voice as he turned back to run to the back of the house, and down into the cellar hopefully. He quickly shuffled his feet, sprinting towards the staircase that lead to the cellar. Too bad it was behind the counter where the man stood, and apparently, he was not on of those "I don't want to put my nose where it doesn't belong" type of people.
"Great. Few days have passed, and I'm already in trouble. This is getting interesting!"
He leapt over the counter, launching himself off of it with his arms, and knocked over the innkeeper that was trying to block his way. Vaulting over the counter he knocked him over with his body, and they both splat onto the ground, knocking the wine rack over, and spilling all sorts of wine on the ground. "Sorry!" Brel yelled, standing back up and continuing to run. Now he was certain that he's not welcome in this town any more, and had to run away as quickly as he possibly could. He literally sled down the stairs into the cellar, and found himself in a pitch black room with a dim source of light from one tiny torch. Wine shelves and food stocks had been piled up in there for weeks, ready to be sold. Brel hid behind one of those huge wine kegs, using his passive skill to hide completely. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit." He cried in his mind, hoping he won't get caught. Although, at the same time, he was very excited to finally have some action. He heard the guards get down to the attic, looking for him. Though as much as they looked around, Brel's passive skill hid him perfectly. At one point, one of the guards were looking directly at him, but failed to detect his presence.
When they passed further into the cellar, Brel had a brilliant idea. His body started growing hair, and changing form, quickly forming one of a fox. Bright brown fur covered the four legged beast's body, with a little white tip on the end of it's tail. Claws and fangs had formed a little bit stronger than one of a normal fox', but they were not of use at this current situation. His paws gripped into the cold hard-wood floor, and launched him in the distance, making him shine like a street lamp for a split second, before he rushed up the stairs in the form of a fox. Leaping over the counter again, he was quick and small enough to avoid anyone trying to catch him, and he boosted through the open door of the inn into the town square, full of people. "Great, what now?