"You know, many thieves back in Al-Hiekk will tell you that they've thought about what they do if they ever struck rich. I admit I have too, but I never did know. Perhaps I never thought I would be in a situation where it would happen. But..." he opened his eyes, and knelt on his elbow as he spoke to her. "To tell you the truth, I like the danger too much to ever give it up." 

She raised her eyebrow, still with the grin. His smile bloomed, as they both know that didn't mean that he would pass up the chance for a fortune. Amal took another generous drink of the wine, setting a comfortable warmth in his blood. "Of course I'd spend the money. In fact, your idea... suits me is the word?" He said the sentence in Reikspeil. "A large house to live in when I'm not traveling." 

He passed her the wine, which she took happily and drank her fill. After she let the bottle down from her lips, he thought again about how attractive she looked in the fire light, and for a brief second he saw her eyes trailing down his torso. She spoke first. "I'm chocked full of good ideas, aren't I?" 

"I can admit that," He said, leaning in. 

[i]Thump[/i]. 

The two immediately regained their composure, even as buzzed as they were. Emmaline grabbed her staff and Amal erected himself atop the cushions on one foot like a lookout upon a crows nest, as alert as a fox. Emmaline nudged him with the cobra staff, something he would have considered dangerous any other time. "What was that?" she whispered. He held out a hand to keep her behind him, eyes searching. He knew his big mouth had cursed him. [i]Ah yes, more danger[/i], he thought. 

[i]Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump[/i] 

Something on the floor to the left moved. He didn't know if it was a serpent or a rat, as nothing else slunked so low to the ground. He took out his knife and stepped off the cushions toward the direction of the noise, and then saw it move again under a richly furnished carpet of vibrant colors. He slowly knelt down and curled his fingers around the carpet and suddenly tugged. 

The carpet didn't move. At least in the traditional sense. Something stuck fast to the floor, but the carpet itself tugged with him! Amal fell back with superstition, eyeing the thing warily as the carpet rippled like there was a flow of air beneath it. He leaned forward after a moment, and decided to see what would happen if he undid one of the bolts. Placing his knife under it, he yanked it free, and the carpet rippled incessantly before calming, and then its fluffed 'toe' perked up curiously. 

"This is a magic carpet.." Amal said in disbelief, having heard of them from tales. Only sorcerers used them, he thought. Then again the Emir was rich, perhaps it was a gift that disappointed him? Amal shook the fluffed end of it. "Very nice to meet you, my friend. I am Amal. What do they call you?" 

Another thump struck their ears, but this time it wasn't from the carpet. It was from behind them, and Emmaline squeaked, the blood leaving her face when a rich voice arose from outside of the doors. "You! Liars and thieves! I know who you are, and I know what you have done to these good servants of the Illustrious Emir Latar Ibn-Revir! Give up now and we will grant you a quick death by beheading-" 

Emmaline gripped her neck and curled her full lips in distaste. "-fight, and we will feed you to the Tigers of Shapur! What say you?" He called. His accent was much more polished than the servants. Perhaps he was a sage or a decorated Captain of the Guard. The two thieves paused, and Amal spoke to the carpet. "My friend, I will free you if you get us out of here. Sound good?" 

The carpet fanned, and Amal took that as a yes. He placed his dagger under the next bolt, and with a grimace he yanked it free.  

"Have you no honor!?" The voice cried.  

"No!" Amal called through the locked door, and there was a pause as he undid the third bolt. 

"...Very well. We will gut you like a dog!" 

A few moments later, something nearly burst through the door. It even gave Amal pause. They had to have been using some sort of battering ram. Emmaline looked deep in thought, as if she was preparing a spell for a last stand of magic, or perhaps it was to aid in keeping the door sealed. Amal popped the last bolt, and suddenly the carpet sprang up as if in glee, before flying around Amal thrice in excitement. Amal laughed, and they moved almost in one as the thief leaped, and the carpet spun to fly below his feet. 

"I think this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership. Well..." he looked at Emmaline. "Not as beautiful as this one, but close. Hey Mushkila!" He said, using the Arabyan word for 'trouble maker.' Emmaline turned to see Amal on the carpet, holding a hand out. As the door was finally rammed through, Emmaline was yanked atop thew carpet, and before the guards could assail them, they were out into the courtyard and flying into the moonlit sky. Amal keeping Emmaline steady as she squealed with a mixture of fear and delight. 
[@Penny]