To market, to market...

[Allan A'Dale]

Allan strolled across the bridge that spanned the moat and through the gates of Nottingham, adjusting his hood to disguise himself from the sentries posted there. It was hot and uncomfortable under the heavy cloak, and he was aching to be rid to it. Once he got into the crowds he'd be alright, but it didn't pay to take chances when he didn't have to.

Finally past the Sheriff's goons, he headed for the market square. Rosetta had given him a fat bag of money before she'd ridden off with her nose in a sling, and he was eager to fritter it away on something shiny and pointless. Not all of it, obviously; he wasn't stupid. Just a little something that he didn't really need. He didn't have many luxuries, but he was determined to aquire at least one or two. Winding through the narrow alleys, he flung off his cape and folded it over his arm. The guards hopefully wouldn't be posted at the market; generally the Sheriff seemed more concerned about keeping the outlaws away from Nottingham than preventing petty crime and keeping order. Once you were in, people assumed you were meant to be there.

He started idly browsing stalls once he'd come upon the wide open marketplace. There didn't seem to be that much of interest really, it all looked like fairly average stuff. Skipping on a few tables, he poked a few times at some odd-looking fruit before turning his attention elsewhere.

[Liam Bronte]

Liam approached the market on foot with his mind set on finding something pretty for the women at the castle. Truthfully, Thea more than Isabella, since she seem didn't to be as easily swayed as his childhood friend. The pouch on his belt jingled lightly as he walked from stall to stall, waiting for something to catch his eye. Jewelry or a place that sold scarves or headdresses. Anything expensive.
Halfway through the market, a certain stand caught his eye. Most of the items had been displayed in full sunlight so the light danced off the gleaming surfaces. Dozens of rings and necklaces were laid out before him, hair pins in all shapes just waiting to be bought. He examined each one carefully, knowing that if Thea found a mistake, he'd pay dearly for it. The hair pin he currently held was in the shape of a bird, magnificently shaped so as it look like it was about to take flight. It was no taller than his thumb, but was simply beautiful.
"How much?" he asked the vendor over the buzz of shoppers. Liam tutted and shook his head at the price. And with a few words, "But you see, this is for a very special lady..." he lowered the price and paid for the pin. He looked out again at the table but saw nothing Lady Thornton would like. All these trinkets were garish and he assumed she would like something more understated. Thea was the exact opposite, and a bit like him. They both enjoyed the finer things in life and had very little problem displaying themselves in public. Regardless of her age, Thea would always be easy to please.

[Allan A'Dale]

Most of the stuff laid out looked pretty boring. Nottingham was still a poor town, after all; few except the ruling classes had enough to eat, let alone spare money to spend on luxuries. There was a jewellery stall or two but he wasn't exactly going to buy himself a fancy necklace or a silver ring; that was women's stuff.

He sighed and scanned the rest of the marketplace; mostly vegetables and meat on offer, a spice stall that was doing very little trade indeed, and even a couple of fishmongers touting their wares. Everything else seemed to be stuff that you'd buy a girl.

Maybe I'll forget the market, he thought to himself. Maybe he could go to the blacksmith's, get himself a shield or something. Much had one, after all, and it might be nice to have his own for dangerous stuff.

He passed by a jewellery stall on the way and paused. Someone here had money, it seemed. A noble, Allan guessed, if not by the size of his purse then the style of his dress. He hung back, pretended to be interested in some shabby-looking hides a tanner was trying to flog, and kept an eye on the rich stranger. Another new face, he noted. Nottingham was becoming a bit of a social hub, it seemed. Perhaps the Sheriff was planning something new if people were still coming here.

[Liam Bronte]

Liam tucked the newly purchased gift into his pocket and strolled around, though nothing struck him. Sighing, he turned back to the jewelery stand, giving the nearby man a roll of his eyes and a laugh.
"Pray that you never find yourself shopping for a woman, it's a rather impossible feat," Not entirely true, but finding something appropriate for a certain noble was proving harder than he would have thought. He needed to gain her trust again, and after the incident in the Main Hall, he was anxious to do so soon.

[Allan A'Dale]

The stranger moved on a little from the jewellery stall and Allan watched him carefully out of the corner of one eye. Slowly he put down the cowskin he'd been pretending to examine and took a few steps backwards and to his left, trying to remain out of his target's eyeline. The man turned back and spoke to the stallholder, and whilst he was distracted Allan moved smoothly into action. Pulling a dagger barely two inches long from his boot, he walked towards the nobleman and 'accidentally' bumped into him from behind, grabbing the dangling purse in his right hand and slashing at its strings with the knife held in his left. His blade was sharp and it cut through the ties easily; as soon as he felt the weight of the coins fall into his palm he mumbled "s'cuse me, mate," and stepped hurriedly back the way he'd came, slipping between two market stalls and heading for a narrow alley at the edge of the square.

[Liam Bronte]

Liam shook his head at the man as he bumped into him. "Sure," he said with a roll of his eyes. He turned his attention back to the table of jewelery and something caught his eye at the end of the table. A beautiful brooch, beautiful in it's simplicity. Perfect for Isabella, who he decided didn't want anything overly fussy. But despite it's simple design, he could tell it's worth, for it was inlaid with small, simple gems of various colors.
"I'll take it," he told the stall owner, picking up the pin. He reached for his purse and found nothing there. He felt around his hips, still finding nothing and looking around in vain. Suddenly his thoughts turned to man who'd bumped into him and Liam's eyes narrowed. Slamming the piece of jewelery down, he took off in the direction the man had been walking. It would near impossible to find the man since Liam hadn't gotten a good look at his face. He knew that thief was of average height and not particularly well dressed. He guessed at blond hair, but couldn't be sure. Winding though the throng of people, he scanned around for something to tip him off.
He was about to turn back when he saw the flash of someone heading down an alley. It was worth a shot, he thought as he ran after the man.
"s'cuse me, mate," he mimicked, his voice eerily similar, "but I'd appreciate if I got my purse back." Liam knew that he didn't have a weapon, but the same couldn't be said about the thief. He wasn't worried about his own lack of sword or dagger, knowing his fist did well enough, but being without the weight of the his made him feel off somehow. He'd carried it for seven years and was now finally able to take it off. "Well?" he demanded of the man, taking a step forward.

[Allan A'Dale]

The edge of the square was shadowy and welcoming and he ducked in gratefully between two buildings and paused for a second before deciding which way to take on his way out of town. He'd just started on his path when he heard a voice behind him, mimicking his accent.

Bollocks, he thought to himself; rumbled. He thought fast and replied in the furthest accent from that he could think of, a thick Bristolian brogue that made him sound like a proper country bumpkin.

"Whaat'saat ye say? Don't fink I knoes yoo."
[/i]
He took care not to turn round all the way, hoping that the phony voice would put him off the scent.

[Liam Bronte]

Liam glared at the man, taking another step forward. "Yeah, well I don't really want to get to know you, either. So just give me the lot back and I'll let it go." He'd give this man one more chance before he turned to a more physical approach. Now he regretted not having some weapon on him. That way, he could have taken care of this problem without a hitch. Richard's going to have fun taking care of this problem, he thought dryly before grabbing the man's shoulder. "Don't make me take it from you," he warned, his voice low.

[Allan A'Dale]

It had been a decent enough effort, but the dark-haired stranger wasn't buying it, not for a second. Allan didn't want to openly admit his guilt by turning tail and making a dash for it, regardless of the fact he couldn't really see how he was going to brazen his way out of this one, he stood his ground nonetheless. Vaguely wishing he'd kept his hood on, he turned to face his accuser.

"Give you what, friend?" he replied, keeping up the accent more for appearance's sake than anything else. Dropping it would be as much as an admission to the crime as running off.

The other man's hand fell onto his shoulder and he shrugged it off, shoving the arm away defensively and stepping a pace back, raising his fists defensively. He didn't want to pull his knife if he didn't have to, but if this bloke thought Allan was coming quietly he was very sorely mistaken.

[Liam Bronte]

Liam watched the outlaw's movements, noticing the sudden fighting stance.
"My money, along with the gift I just bought. Unless you want the trouble of dealing with not only me, but Thea when she finds out you stole her present, I'd suggest giving the damn purse back." Liam swung his fist out, more of a warning than anything else. His patience was wearing thin, and with it the worry about his lack of weaponry. He took another step forward, getting a good look at the lad's face. Maybe someone in the castle knew about him, it'd be easier to pick him out in a crowd if they every crossed paths again.

[Allan A'Dale]

Allan narrowed his eyes, sizing up the person who was rapidly becoming his adversary. He seemed fairly fit, well muscled, but he was well-dressed too; Allan was pretty sure that he'd have an edge if it came down to a fight. Although many nobles were skilled in combat, their comfortable lives soon blunted their abilities. His own wits were kept pretty keen due to the hardships of life as an outlaw. He probably wouldn't need to draw the knife. And why add wounding a mark to robbery and insult? Robin wouldn't be best pleased if he found out about him knifing someone for a purse. Then he suddenly realised. Robin. There was a way they were supposed to do this, and he wasn't exactly following the rules.

Not relaxing his guard for a second, keeping a close eye on the stranger, he dropped the phony voice and spoke in his usual tone.

"Look, mate, I tell you what, there's a way this normally goes. I'm one of Robin Hood's men." No harm in admitting that, he knew; aside from Robin, he was the most recognisable to the authorities, due to his brief time in Gisborne's service. "Tell me how much you got. Tell the truth, and I'll only take a tenth, and that goes to the poor. And your little trinket for the bird." He paused for a second. The name Thea rang a bell, but he had no idea who the woman was - or at least he couldn't remember. "If you lie, or try and muck me about, you lose the lot." And maybe I'll find a nice lady for whatever fancy bauble he's bought, he thought to himself.

[Liam Bronte]

Liam smirked when the thief dropped the act, but his hands remained at the ready. But when he said the name Robin, his fists dropped, a wondering grin suddenly on his face.
"I don't believe it," he said with a shake of his head. "Robin Hood? All I ever knew him by was Robin of Locksley." Liam racked his brain for memories of the man. "He's a great fighter, I remember that much. Much... He still got that friend of his around? Much?" He laughed, forgetting the man's question as to the contents of his purse. "He'll remember me, I'm sure. Tell him Bronte's looking for him, Sir Bronte. He'll recall that much,"

[Allan A'Dale]

The stranger gave a sarcastic grin that Allan didn't like the look of at all, but Robin's name got his attention and suddenly he was all smiles. And he also failed to actually give an answer to the question. Allan wasn't about to take the word of some nob from out of town and let him walk away scot-free and his suspicions were raised. That Thea woman was something to do with the Sheriff; he remembered that much, and if this bloke was trying to get into her good books then his credentials weren't the best. Although - he thought for a second - hadn't Roe been knocking her off too? Allan wasn't that familiar with Roe, but he was a nice enough guy. Maybe this Sir Bronte was trying to muscle in. Either way, Allan certainly didn't trust him. He resolved to bring it up with Robin at the next available opportunity.

"So you know his name, and you know about Much. And, oh yeah, he's good in a scrap. Any peasant around here'd tell you that much for a penny, and you could get it for free from the Sheriff or Gisborne. I want to know exactly who you are, if you reckon you're so damn chummy with him, and why you're suddenly so eager to have a chat. And you've got one more chance to tell me what you got in here-" he hefted the purse, "- before I keep the lot of it."

[Liam Bronte]

Liam took a step back, annoyed at the thief's sudden attitude. Now that he knew a way to Robin, he was eager to meet up with his former friend. More of a co-worker really, but he was wary of giving his name to the outlaw. He hadn't brought much with him to Nottingham, but it was enough to be cautious of it being stolen. Not to mention how greedy he was, having someone know his name, a thief especially, gave them easier access to his things. Rubbing a hand over his face, Liam turned to the man.
"Sir Liam Bronte. I fought with Robin in the Holy Lands. Alongside him, actually. And I have enough in there to be anxious of holding it. Thirty coins, give or take. And a hair pin for Thea. In the shape of a bird, if you must know.
"And I want to have a chat with him because I haven't seen him in two years." Liam grinned and came toward the man with more grace than before. "And if you're so unsure about where my loyalties lie, I fought for seven years alongside the King in the Holy Lands."

[Allan A'Dale]

The man backed off a little, clearly put out but Allan didn't feel any major regrets at denting his feelings a little. He got his answers, and if it was a lie then it was a well-practiced one. Slipping the purse from a pocket inside his shirt that he'd spent an awkward afternoon sewing on after Djaq refused to and Marian was too ill to help, he upended it into his palm, a well-practiced eye assessing the quantity of coins that tumbled out, leaving one eye on the man who claimed to be Robin's comrade in arms.

"Yeah, it's thirty, give or take, fair do's." He tipped the money back in, keeping three coins for himself, and tossed it lightly to the stranger. "Well, you've passed the first test, anyway," he commented mildly, tucking the coins away to hand over to Robin later. He'd have to have a little chat, find out if this man was really who he claimed to be. "I'll mention your name to Robin, see what he says. If he knows you, and believes you're who you say you are, I'll take you to him. But if you're really a crusader, I'd have thought you'd have been used to this sort of thing. If some bloke pops up claiming to be a mate of the King's, would you let him in the royal tent without checking his credentials? I don't know you from Adam, and trust we, we've had our fair share of fake allies in the Sheriff's pay pop up from time to time." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Actually, if you've got anything on you that Robin'd recognise, that'd definitely help your case. I could show it to him if you want to make sure he know's it's you."