Style Quest: Heist on Eventide

Varick read the scroll several times to ensure he walked in the right direction. A courier had delivered the letter a week before with specific directions for the mahogany Clydesdale to come alone. There wasn’t a lot of information in the scroll, but it did promise a large payday. Varick hoped it was just some eccentric client who wanted to remain anonymous because the clothes they wanted crafting were of an adult nature. Either that or people on Eventide were as weird as he had heard.

 

    The sky over the twilight band burned with smoke and ash as the uncontrollable wildfires on the sun’s side of the planet burned. Dark buildings lit by magitech lights formed a maze of a city along the barrier between freezing darkness and fiery light. After an hour of getting lost and backtracking, Varick finally found a warehouse with the proper street address. It was not the oddest place he’d met a potential client, so the blonde horse knocked on the door.

 

    “Yes, quickly come in,” a voice from inside beckoned as the door flew open. This moment was Varick’s last chance to turn back, but he decided to enter the door. As he did, overhead lights turned on, revealing that its owner had converted the warehouse into a well-decorated apartment. A small green paper demon with too small wings to support flight stood behind a bar. “Varick you came! Sorry for the bit of cloak and dagger, but there was a need for some secrecy. My name is Jasper, and you are the perfect man, or rather horse, for the job. Is there a drink I can make for you?”

 

    “Apple Cider Daquiri if you have the ingredients,” the equine tailor answered, looking around the apartment. “Look, I don’t judge or anything, but what kind of clothes do you want me to make that require such secrecy?”

 

    “No clothes for me as I have use of your other skills,” Jasper explained while mixing the drink. “I need you to pose as a tailor and maybe deal with some bodyguards while I steal back an artifact that was taken from a museum some time ago. Don’t try to tell me you aren’t a fighter because you have a bit of a reputation for being a tailor that one shouldn’t mess with.”

 

    “I’m not hired muscle,” Varick protested, turning to the door when two objects in a glass case caught his eye. They looked like two dagger-sized needles with slight hilts. A plaque on the case declared them relics from Varick’s now-lost home planet, Requinest.

 

    “I see you have an eye for the priceless,” the green paper demon laughed as he handed the blonde Clydesdale the requested drink. “You did this job for me and I’ll throw those in with your payment. Truly priceless now that the planet is gone.”

 

    “Ok, walk me through the plan,” Varick grimaced at the thought of selling himself as hired muscle. Jasper directed the tailor to a table that had multiple blueprints laid out on it. Overall, the plan was pretty straightforward. The paper demon had already set an appointment for Varick to show up at the house and pretend to do a clothing fitting. Once Jasper was in position, the blonde horse would create a distraction so the paper demon could reclaim the stolen artifact.

 

    On the night of the heist, Varick knocked on the door of one of the few mansions left on Eventide. Two large, deep green orcs opened the door wearing all-black suits. They were large, but the lack of scars on their face and the fancy clothes indicated they probably hadn’t had to use their muscle for much more than intimidation. Varick didn’t have his needle sheathes on his arms, so he’d pass a pat down, and when the guards checked his bag, all they found were bolts of fabric. The horse stuck the lock with a needle concealed in his tie. Varick hid several more needles through the house as he walked through with the guards.

 

    “You must be the tailor I’ve heard so much about,” an elderly elf man greeted the Clydesdale as he entered the bedroom. There were five more guards here with this aging man. A red Dragonborn covered in arcane tattoos, two black-furred lionesses that were just walls of muscles, a twitchy-looking hare covered in knives, and an eagle with a large bow strapped to his back all stood around the room watching Varick. “My name is Lueluth, and I require clothes that will make it difficult for assassins to find me.”

 

    “Well, sir, I can certainly do that,” the equine tailor smirked as he felt one of the wards on a planted needle ping. “However, there is a bit of a conflict of interest.” Before anyone could react, Varick stomped his right hoof twice, activating two spells simultaneously. The first filled the room with smoke, while the second created six illusionary doubles of the horse. Using the chaos, the real Varick ducks out of the room and down the hall. With his few moments, the blonde Clydesdale grabbed his needle sheathes from his bag and slipped them on. A shouted spell by the Dragonborn guard dispelled all the smoke and illusions.

 

    Guards hot on his heels, Varick slipped into the first open room he could find. It turned out to be a large, dark ballroom. As the brown horse’s eyes adjusted to the light, he bumped into a sizeable strange box object that started playing music. The guards appeared in the doorway as the bass drums hit with the guitars kicking off a song by The Keepers of the Def Lepard. Both orcs barrelled toward Varick, who punched them in the gut, dropping them instantly. They were newbies, just as the tailor assumed they were.

 

    “The only thing you’ll get poured on you is molten death,” the Dragonborn shouted as the chorus to the song kicked in. As the sorcerer’s tattoos lit with arcane light, several bolts of flame flew at Varick. The tailor caught the fire blasts with his hands and absorbed them, igniting his mane and tail with blue and purple flames. In an instant, five needles with brown threads appeared in each of Varick’s hands. A flick of the wrist sent them sailing into the Dragonborn with the force of several bricks, bowling him down.

 

    “Green light go,” sounded from the music player as a volley of arrows narrowly missed Varick. He threw two fist fulls of green threaded needles, hoping the seeking enchantment on them would find the hawk. Two daggers lunged from the darkness at the mahogany Clydesdale’s clothes, only stopped by the armor underneath. Before the twitchy hare could disappear into the darkness again, he stomped on his foot and then grabbed and slammed the dagger wielder into the nearest wall. The air was instantly driven from the brown hare, followed by his consciousness when Varick connected with a headbutt. An arrow grazed the horse’s with another, connecting with the back of his knee. The armor there stopped the arrow from penetrating but cost Varick his balance, sending him to his knee.

 

    A twin roar announced the black-furred lioness’ entrance into the room. Both of them carried two serrated scimitars. In unison, the pair ran forward, swinging their blades. Blue spell thread wrapped Varick’s arms and coated them in ice as he blocked the attacks with his arms. Twined fire and sky threads activated, covering the tailor’s hands in lighting. Varick had trouble keeping up with the lionesses as they attacked from multiple angles simultaneously. Their strength threatened to shatter the ice shields and the blonde horse’s arms. If he could land one hit, Varick was sure it would incapacitate the victim. As the song’s final bridge hit, an arrow struck the equine tailor’s hoof, painfully splitting it.

 

    Dropping to his back, Varick gathered up all the flames currently engulfing his mane and tail and blasted the lionesses with them. It was an illusion but real enough to throw them off balance. Seizing the opportunity, the blonde Clydesdale grabbed the ankles of the felines, shocking them both into submission. Rolling to his feet, Varick dodged several more arrows while still uneasy on his split hoof. Activating the hidden magnets in the needle sheathes, the tailor made a double-pulling motion towards himself. All the thrown needles came flying back to him. There was a loud squawk as some of their needles found the hidden hawk sniper, forcing him from his hiding spot. Done with this, Varick pushed the avian out the first-story window onto the bushes below.

 

    “Welp, I am hot and sticky but whether or not I’m sweet is going to be up for Raine to decide,” Varick let out an exasperated breath as the song ended. Carefully, the horse dropped down from the window and met Jasper at the meeting point. The paper demon managed to sneak in to snag the artifact in the chaos. Keeping his word, Varick got his payment of the dual needle daggers. When they parted ways, the tailor hoped they would never meet again.