This was something I had written a long time ago when I first joined Avalon and have just for some reason held on to:
Crouching in the shadows, wearning nought but tattered rags and a black cloak which engulfs him completly, he wields a rusted and ancient knife in his right hand, contemplating whether or not he could dart out and cut a passing man's purse from his belt while making an escape before the man could catch him. As you watch from nearby, you see the man go by, not even bothering to glance down the allyway in which the young urchin resides. As the urchin slinks out slowly and pads behind the man who is obviously deep in thought. Feeling a slight tap on his shoulder the man whirls and assumes a defensive stance. As he realizes that there isn't anyone around and that he more than likely imagined the whole thing, he smiles a little and scorn himself for being so skitish. And he turns to continue his stroll, you see him reach down to pat his coin purse comfortingly, only to realize that it isn't there! Scanning the street with wide eyes, he does not see the urchin as he lurks in the shadows, smiling contentedly at the man's carelessness and counting his newly earned fortune, nor do he notice the small but steady trickle of blood that leaks from a needlepoint wound in his side, but you can spot the tell tell crimson stain seeping through his white linen shirt even from your vantage point. Not feeling the effects of the posion, the man trudges down the street into at busy market, stumbling and muttering incoherent things before he crashes into a vegetable stand and falls to the ground, blood gushing from his mouth as the startled patrons of the market gather around to examine him in his ill fated demise.
