Razrat the Thief

It was, undoubtedly, his toughest job yet.

Realizing he was still in the room, sniffing a stranger's undergarments, he quickly stashed them in his shirt and moved towards the exit. He pressed his long pointed ear to the closed door, and opened it softly when he heard nothing on the other side. Closing it behind him, he stayed close to the wall as he made his way down the hall to the right. It was almost completely dark, as the hall's lanterns were doused, though as he went, he dug his claw into a pouch hanging from his sash, retrieving a stiff flower petal. He stuck it in his mouth and sucked on it, and cringed, as it drew the taste of wet earth from it. He resisted the urge to spit it out, as slowly, in his vision, the hall became clearer in the dark, until he could see as well he would be able to during the day. He would have to move quickly though, as he knew the effect would not last forever.

As he traversed the halls, he was lucky to have encountered only a few attendants and guards, and in the darkness with his ebony clothes and scales, as long as he remained still, he could pass undetected. It was a ritual he had to perform a few times before he found himself in front of double doors, carved from mahogany wood. Looking around to make sure he was alone, he pressed his ear to the door and listened carefully, confirming the room to be empty. Slowly, he creaked the door open and slipped inside.

The office was both large and gaudy, at least from the kobold's judgment. A sort of mockery of a truly royal throne room. With the help of the flower petal, he could see it clearly in the dark, though some of it was illuminated by the moon. The patterned maroon and gold wallpaper complimented the stained glass well. Sitting in front of it was an elaborately carved chair and desk, flanked by full bookcases along the wall.

Almost there, Razrat told himself as he walked towards the desk, glancing back at the office entrance just in case. Rounding the desk, and fully accepting he was alone but working with borrowed time, he searched the papers on the desk and each of the drawers. Papers of documents and correspondences of all kinds, letters from other nymphling lords and ladies. Finances and orders of all kinds, yet nothing seemed like what he was hired to find.

Until he tried to open one drawer, and it wouldn't budge. It was locked. Razrat grinned a toothy grin.

There you are, he thought as he retrieved his thief's tools. It took a few attempts more than with the window, but eventually it popped open. He looked inside eagerly.

Only to find more useless documents.

Razrat resisted the urge to swear aloud as he gripped the drawer in frustration. He breathed heavily through his nostrils as run his claws around the drawer, which was now emptied. It seemed ordinary, yet why lock it to hold letters of little importance, Razrat wondered. A small part of him was hoping he would be able to at least find some scandalous letters from a forbidden lover, but no such luck. He knocked at the bottom of the drawer lightly, and, to his satisfaction, he heard the faint sound of hollow wood. A false bottom.

Of course, Razrat though, pleased with himself. He traced his fingers along the edge slowly, feeling for a lip from which he could pry the bottom open, but he found none. Razrat's second was to try and remove the drawer entirely and destroy it to get to the bottom, but it stayed in place on the desk. 

Desperate and running out of options, he was about to remove another knife from his sash and pry the bottom open, risking making noise, but stopped when he noticed a small carving on the side of the drawer. Looking closely, he saw it was a tiny rune, one of a magical language, Razrat recognized. Learned scholars of Scriptomancy, he knew, used such language to perform many magical feats, but he also knew nobles of every rank tend to employ the wizards - scriptomancers as they're called - for protection and, more importantly, acts of espionage. A magical rune sealing a false bottom in a baroness' desk was a perfect example of such.

Very clever, Baroness Valrona, Razrat thought to himself. Unfortunately for you, however, Miss Pernala has an eye for equally clever kobolds. He took the knife and pressed its tip into one of his fingers. A small droplet of blood formed at its tip. He took a droplet and pressed it and his finger to the magic rune. And as he did, he spoke to himself, words which very familiar to himself for tonight:

"Mind over blood. Blood over flesh. Flesh over truth."

The fire of magic once more filled his veins, though this time, it was fed through the tiny cut as well. He channeled it carefully, and a mild burning at the tip of his fingers confirmed the activation of the rune.

He heard the clicking of a wooden switch, and Razrat smiled.

The kobold sucked the miniscule blood from his finger before removing the false bottom. Beneath it, he saw his prize: parchments wrapped in twine, as well as a sealed letter. He retrieved them and gently locked the false bottom back in place. As he read them, he wore a satisfying grin. Orders and confirmation for the movement of soldiers and knights, just as Pernala described, with the letter that was meant for the lord to relay such orders. 

Razrat could hear the clinking of gold coins in his ears as he stuffed the papers in his shirt.

Just as he did, however, he heard footsteps from outside the office, quickly approaching. Razrat remained calm, and he closed and relocked the drawer with his tools just as the office door was opened.

" - Have him make sure the roads are clear," a woman's voice spoke, stern and surprisingly deep. Razrat assumed it belonged to the baroness, but he dare not look to confirm. "Lord Fafnir's crow should arrive before the sun rises. When it does, we ride for Faelis."

"Of course madam baroness," a man's voice responded. "I'll see to it that the stable boys keep the horses ready for departure."

"Good," Valrona responded. Razrat heard as footsteps approached the desk. He held his breath as he listened closely. In the few precious seconds he had before she would round the desk, he moved deftly into the space meant for the chair.

He saw her dress come into view. Fuck. He was going to be caught. Fuck. He was going to die. Fuck!

"Madam Baroness!"

Razrat's heart nearly lept out of his mouth as another man's voice echoed in the office. Valrona stood still.

"I thought I've taught you all better than to barge into my office," Valrona spat back. "This better be urgent."

Keep talking, Razrat pleaded in his mind. Please keep talking and don't look under the desk. Please!

"It is," the man responded. "We believe that there is an intruder."

Razrat remained as still as a stone, even as Valrona began to step away from the desk.

"What evidence do you have of an intruder?" the baroness asked, with slightly less venom in her voice than before.

"One of the men found an arrow in the court, one that didn't belong to us. It was attached to a piece of rope that fell over the palace walls. He believed that it fell from the roof."

Valrona paused in consideration for a moment, in which she stepped fully out of Razrat's view. "Do we know where the arrow could have come from?"

"It's hard to say, unfortunately." the man answered. After he did, silence hung in the air, long enough for Razrat to think that they could all hear his rapid heartbeats. Valrona stepped back in view, and he thanked every god he knew that he remembered to lock the drawer as the baroness tested it, seeing it sealed shut. Finally, she stepped out of view and Razrat listened to her footsteps as she walked away from the desk.

"I want to see the arrow myself," she stated. "I'll personally overview the guard's interrogation and inspection of the carriages. In the meantime, lock down this office. Allow nobody but myself to enter this room for the rest of the night, understood?"

"Of course, madam baroness," the first man responded. Razrat felt nearly euphoric as he heard the office doors closed and locked, but only allowed himself to breathe once she heard footsteps moving away from the office.

Razrat moved quickly from underneath the desk, but not too quickly as to possibly alert the guards surely posted outside the office doors. 

Reaching one of the windows, he took one of his knives and quickly, yet deftly used it to cut a circle into the window pane. Just large enough that he could crawl through. Completing the circle, he caught it so that it fell into the office, with him placing it gently on the wood floor. 

As softly as he could, he repeated to himself: "Mind over blood, blood over flesh, flesh over truth."

With no time to lose, he unsheathed another arrow, wrapped twine around its tail, notched it on his bow, and leaned backwards out of the new opening. He fell backwards towards the ground, but before he could gain momentum, he launched an arrow towards the lip of the roof, causing the arrow to lodge itself into it. With enough slack, he caught the twine with his claws and feet, and, in combination with the incantation, he remained in the air. 

He took this opportune moment to breathe and think about his next move. Obviously he couldn't reenter the palace as he did before. From outside it seemed not much had changed since the baroness was alerted of an intruder, but he knew better than to trust such an appearance. He considered going back up to the roof and leaving as he arrived, but they would likely be looking for such an exit. They knew the arrow was from the roof. 

From his spot suspended in the air, he looked out to the garden, and realized it was his sole option. Guards likely wouldn't search the garden if they thought an intruder was going for the office, Razrat reasoned. It's my only shot in leaving this place alive.

It's also where the wet nurse is.

The dirty thought entered his mind unbidden, as well as the memory of her swaying rump and jiggling cleavage. He tried to shake his head clear of them. Now that the palace was alerted, he had to focus on leaving. Razrat tried desperately to reason with himself.

Yet reasoned was hopelessly dashed against the possibility of groping, squeezing, and even suckling on those magnificent breasts.

Whatever Gods there may be, forgive me for what I am about to do, he thought as a smile grew on his muzzle.

He looked down to make sure he was safe to lower himself to the ground. Once he landed, he pulled at the twine, causing the arrow to dislodge, and he caught it as collected the slack. He moved quickly across the stone pathways, ignoring them as the ran past all manner of trees, growing fruits he'd never seen look so delectable before. In particular, he passed a bushel of berries, fat and ripe, and he couldn't help but pluck a pair on his way towards the far end of the massive garden. 

He approached the garden's biggest feature, which appeared to be a hedge maze, his biggest obstacle before he could leave. Just as he was about to enter however, he heard voices from behind him, and saw as four figures began walking towards him. Razrat quickly hid behind a nearby tree, and was prepared to repeat his tactic from the office, when he caught a glance of who approached him.

It was the wet nurse. It had to be, from her modest servant's clothes, to the way they utterly failed to hide her enormous bust. She walked the path with the two children from before, a new woman, another servant in a matching dress.

"Please listen to reason, children," the other woman said. "Your mother will be worried you're out here so late."

"Awww!" the boy whined, "But Miss Wynnelith promised we could get Eh.. eh-sca, umm..."

"Escan Sweets!" the girl said.

"Yeah, Escan sweets!" the boy repeated before turning back to the wet nurse, who was presumably Wynnelith. "Go on, tell her you pwomised!"

From the conversation, it didn't seem to Razrat that they knew about the palace lock down yet, which gave ease to the kobold.

"I know I did," Wynnelith confirmed, squatting down to meet the two children. Her voice was soft and sweet, clearly honed from years of motherly experience. Razrat felt mildly embarrassed to admit it only aroused him further. "But Grehana is right. It is getting late, and if she finds out I took you out to the gardens at such an hour, I might be able to take you out to the gardens again."

The children gasped at the information, while the other woman, thin and wiry compared to Wynnelith, wore a smug, satisfied smile.

"But don't worry," she assured them. "If you go with miss Grehana right now, I'll be sure to grab some sweets tonight so can enjoy them with breakfast in the morning. How does that sound?"

The two children squealed in excitement and rushed to hug the wet nurse, nearly knocking her over. 

"Thank you thank you thank you!" They both said profusely. Eventually, with some notable force on Wynnelith's part, they released her from their collective bear hug and grabbed each of the other sevants hands. With their free hands, they waved her goodbye as they began their path back to the palace.

Leaving Wynnelith all alone. Alone, with a kobold voyeur.

She chuckled sweetly. "Those two," she said to herself. "Like little goblins from their books. I swear they'll eat me alive one of these days." As she said that, she absent-mindedly brushed a hand over one of her breasts. Perhaps being reminded of the days she weaned them in infanthood.

Perhaps she wants another mouth on them, Razrat's horny mind thought, as his building arousal sunk to his crotch.

She walked towards his hidden spot, allowing him a better view of, admittedly, her body. The servant's clothes, with a simple blouse and sash belt, hugged not only her bust, but her wide hips as well. They also couldn't hide a chubby belly or thick thighs that, while allowing for few curves, gave her lower body a pear-shaped look that was still utterly enticing. She even wore dark red lipstick, making her lips alluring and full. They complimented her wizened features, complete with crow's feet, thin dark brown eyes, and a small, sharp nose, all framed by a dark waterfall of hair, stopping just below her shoulders.

She carried a kind, comfortable energy about her, explaining her affinity with the children, though her full figure belied a sexy persona underneath. At least, Razrat hoped so as he walked over to a bushel of fruit near him, and she leaned down to pick them.

Allowing her wobbling, fat ass to be pointed directly at him.

"Holy shit," Razrat whispered to himself as he felt a tent begin to rise in his pants. Like a siren from fables, they tempted him from his hiding spot as they waved back and forth, as he allowed a clawed hand to glide over his covered erection. 

Does she know I'm here? his horny, delusional mind thought. Is she doing this for me?

Looking around, and seeing not another soul nearby, he stepped away from the tree, towards the ass that was calling his name. Wynnelith remained clueless as she continued to pick the fruit, humming to herself. With slow, steady steps he got closer and closer to her thick rear, going so far as to reach out to grab. 

He stopped as he was inches from it. Reasoned suddenly overcame him, realizing he was about to reveal himself, pointlessly, for the incredibly slim chance of actually fucking her. He dropped his arm, and took a step back, about to leave.

When a new, devious plan formed in his mind.

He took another step forward, and poked at the wet nurse's side.

"Eek!" Wynnelith squeaked,  and she quickly stood up and turned around to see Razrat standing there, looking up at her as she clutched her heart. "By Aalwys! Who are you?!"

"Many, many apologies!" Razrat said quickly, removing his hood and mask, and holding up his hands. "I-I didn't mean to frighten you! I-I was just hoping you could help me."

"Me?" she said, clutching berries in her other hand, nearly squishing them.  "Y-you shouldn't even be here! These are the gardens of the madam baroness, Valrona Falkrum."

"I know, I know!" he said apologetically. He worked his voice to be as soft and miniscule as he could manage. "But I'm quite desperate! You see, my family was passing by the barony on our way to Faelis for trade. But we are quite impoverished, you see. And I know they would not want me here, invading the gardens of the baroness, but we've been on the road for days with little food, and we'll run out well before we reach Faelis."

Razrat watched her for a reaction, and was pleased that she wore a sincere, saddened look, tilting her head towards him. It was hard to say if she believed him, but she seemed to hang on his every word.

"So I admit, I stole some food," he said sadly, producing the cherries he picked earlier as evidence. "But truly only for need!"

Wynnelith nodded, watching him with kind eyes, but she kept her distance. "If you intended to steal from the garden, why risk being caught by coming to me?" she asked, her tone genuine.

Razrat continued his shy facade by picking at his claws. "Well you see," he began, "I've heard stories of a fruit that could sustain travelers for several days. I believed they were called Escan Sweets? I figured if anyone were to grow such fruit, it would be the baroness, and I hoped, beyond hope, that you could show them to me? I've looked all around and couldn't find any."

Razrat's eyes were as wide and innocent as they could be, meeting hers in his gaze. Wynnelith, after a pregnant pause, chuckled heartily, reminding him of her interaction with the children. She seemed to fall back into her matronly instincts, seeing the desperate kobold before her, partially enabled by the fact that he was only a little taller than the children, as his eyeline was at his ribcage, his long pointed ears nearly tickling her bust.

Her fattened, bouncing bust.

"You shouldn't always listen to traveler's tales, little kobold," she said sweetly. "Such fruit does not exist, but they are quite satisfying. If you truly need them, I can show you where they're grown. Admittedly, I planned to pick some for myself tonight."

Razrat, committing to the act, grabbed her hand full of berries and shook it violently. "Aalwys bless you, miss!" he said. "I-I don't have much coin, but surely there's a way I can repay your kindness."

"That won't be necessary," she said, as she began to walk towards the hedge maze's entrance. "Come and follow me."

"Of course, of course," Razrat said, though she let her take a few steps before he began to follow. Allowing him a plain view of her swinging hips and, more importantly, her fat rear. It swayed back and forth in front of him, even bouncing slightly with every step.

Truthfully, another reason for staying behind allowed him to hide his growing erection from her.

"Stay close, little kobold," she said, looking behind her. "I don't want you to get lost."

"Will do, miss," Razrat responded. And thus, he followed her - and her jiggling rump - around the twists and turns of the hedge maze. Though most of his mind was occupied with all the things we wanted to do to her ass, he was cognizant of the fact that, not only was he closer to the edge of the garden, he was farther from the dangers of the palace.

"It's interesting," Wynnelith said, getting his attention. "Faelis is quite the hub for trade, but even still, we seldom see many kobolds this far north."

"Well, miss," he answered, "we kobolds have a saying: 'roads are the veins, and we are the blood of the world.' "

Wynnelith cooed in interest, seemingly taken with the proverb. She repeated it to herself to ponder on it, while he returned to admiring her ass.

Several turns, corners, and intersections later, Wynnelith came to a stop, and Razrat froze in place to prevent himself from running into her backside.