[i]Theft.
Fencing.
Repeat.[/i]

A simple process but one that Shazar took a real shine to in his shameless lifestyle. His studious nature in the arcane arts saw some Sword Coast elites eying him for other pursuits in his student days, but the thrill of getting increasingly exotic artifacts and then placing them in the wrong hands for the right coin far outweighed some stuffy office or minor wizarding position with a more proper sort of company. 

Eventually though, hitting the same locations exits recklessness and becomes taunting fate itself to punish you. A lesson the messy ash haired rogue learned the hard way when at last he was incarcerated for a near full year. The embarrassment after bragging to the underground about his [u]infinite[/u] potential & skill was blistering. The humiliation of being lumped in with [i]the common[/i] was a despair with no respite.

Yet learn from this lesson he most certainly did: vary your haunts. Mix in some exotic locales! Hit locations where the law is more flimsily designed and enforced at its best. Ruins were fantastic, as usually they served double as graves for some minor nobility and would seldom be guarded [i]well enough to matter.[/i] This also allowed some ethical flexibility and ambiguity when returning the goods to a larger city! This was all to say, the cave was not his first.. second... or frankly thirty-third choice this month. What prompted him to choose it for spelunking was a mixture of it growing late, him wanting a place to retire for the night while using a particular spell of his to soar the winds like rapids with blatant disregard for his surroundings like a jackass, and his penchant for personal risk.

Oh but that lovely moan~ Before the cave had his attention (with the subconscious acknowledgement he may need to do some extermination work to get it homely); now, it had piqued his curiosity. And not many places remained unmolested once that height was achieved.

[hr]

So then we return to the cave's seeming owner acknowledging our "hero." A drow woman scantily garbed and clearly not kind if she had any niceties to her judging by the implications of her words. Fantastic. A witch's lair perhaps! If he could avoid the whole being murdered part, odds are there'd be no legal ramifications at all to looting the place blind. The outside clearing made marking the location simple enough so a few trips and all these poor saps who were [i]clearly[/i] his lessers would have their belongings returned... in a fashion, to the rightful overworld economy.

Tucking aside his altruistic notions of noble trade, the torchlight also revealed the thief's tall but lanky stature. Olive green pants and tan brown open coat, the man's patchwork attire was covered in belts and straps stressed with use. Light dusting of facial hair aside, one could be forgiven for thinking him of a commoner's station weren't it for his easily distinguished skin which was not only quite fair but looked unworked in any capacity by labor. Flashing a pearly smile that reeked of cheese, his voice was equal parts chipper, facetious, and full of forced "patience" as though he were speaking to a child:

"[b]Ah yes yes. The name's Shazar. I'll be the new management around here.[/b]" His hands seemed to have a life of their own, ringing each other in a meticulously practiced pattern of neuroticism. 

"[b]Y'can depart on your own or spread your legs and make yourself useful. Makes me no difference. But I'm an appraiser, you see. And I..[/b]" Forking his tongue against his right cheek, his head tilted towards one of the many bones that would never see daylight again by the corner. "[b]..have my fair share of work cut out for me here on that front. So all this "your home, your door" talk is frankly just inaccurate. Referencing statuses of a time bygone. This is Shazar's Retreat now. We clear?[/b]" 

Black leather boots clung to the floor keeping the stick of a man aloft from blowing away along with the occasional gust within these depths -- yet the rogue seemed to be familiar with this comical form of "pressing." He had just entered a potentially deranged drow's lair and told them they were evicted unless they acted as his servant. Even he knew this probably wouldn't go over well in terms of the negotiation process. [i]But[/i] nothing ventured nothing gained! And if it did get her going on the rampage, well. All the better to ascertain if she was alone or not and rip that problem right out. 

'Course if he did get her as a servant, he'd be all the envy of the boys. A drow servant. Coo'!