Roger
When was the last time that he had been in the city of his birth? More than 4 centuries ago he walked the streets a member of high society, a peerless young man who had the entire world promised to him. 3 centuries ago he was quietly studying the most profane and dangerous artifacts he'd smuggled home during his time with the mages order. 2 centuries ago he had ignited a poor courier in the dead of night near the very docks he stood upon who just wouldn't give up the package he held. Even then when Atticus opened up the box he came to find that it contained a collection of personal letters rather than the eldritch artifact he had been searching for and that he'd simply gone after the wrong one. How embarrassing!

Such a history in a place like this. One of hubris, blood and fire. Which begs the question as to why Atticus Xelnore had finally decided to return to this place. Settling a score with an old rival? Following a lead on his eternal quest for immortality? He planned on burning down a quarter of the city just for a laugh? The answer was shocking simple. 

He just wanted an apple fritter.

Specifically an apple fritter made by his absolute favorite pastry chef who happened to finally earn enough to move out of his small town to open up shop in the big city of Ardunon. Atticus who had frequented his shop so regularly that he made detours to his village just for more sweet treats had made his way here as quickly as he could. And with that done it was time for him to go.

The old mage stood at the harbors edge. It was far past the accepted time for ships to dock meaning that he had the luxury of enjoying the view of moonlight over calm waters undisturbed. In his hand rather than a ball of fire he held one of the many sweet treats he bought, his other hand holding a bag containing all the rest, and was quietly enjoying himself.

Once he was finished he fully planned on getting back to work. There wasn't much in Ardunon that he didn't know about it and aside from the pastries, the only thing it had for him would be old memories he'd be quite glad to forget. For now he'd simply wait at the harbor for a ship and simply 'convince' the crew to take him somewhere else. Atticus had found that a man can become incredibly persuasive when they can sink a crews ship with a simple flick of their wrist. 

But he'd have to wait a while, which was fine by him. After all, who in Lucidien could possibly ruin a night like this for him?
Mark
The docks weren't a place that Vilem Hase usually visited, in fact he rarely left the market district these days except to commit his murders, but something had drawn him there that evening. Tired grey eyes swept across the shipyard, the fading quarter moon providing enough light to illuminate them and bring out the blue undertones of his steel colored irises. He wasn't sure why he was out following such a strange feeling he couldn't explain, but he continued to follow it through the shadows. 

When he spotted the figure of an adult male standing by one of the many docking points, long fuzzy ears sprung from Vilem's hair and swiveled around to check for other people out of habit. When all that he heard were the waves crashing against sand and stone he relaxed some, rather than get rid of them he decided to fully take his humanoid animal form. The golden rabbit felt a familiar itch as he watched the figure, and attempted to shake it off as he reminded himself that two kills in less than a week would draw too much attention. 

Even still the conditions were perfect. It was quiet, fairly dark, an unpopulated location with plenty of ways to dump the body once he was finished. Unlike his usual prey, Vilem had to take into consideration the possibility that the man on the docks was a spell caster and carefully crept closer. As he stalked through the shadows he grabbed the knife he always kept on his person, and curled his fingers around the carved hilt. As he got closer he noted that he was definitely taller than the other man by no more than a few inches, and he was a bit thinner than himself, leading him to believe that he could probably overpower him though the threat of magic continued to make the rabbit wary.
Roger
The old mage felt a shiver run down his spine as the salty, cold air of the dock swept past him, using his free arm to keep his hat from blowing off his head. Although, with the hand itself already holding the bag of sweet bakery treats it proved to be little help against the gale as the black hat flew free into the air. Xelnore, already chewing on one of his apple fritters, was able to swallow enough to be able to speak the his spell aloud followed by the snap of his fingers. Before the hat could get too far, Atticus's __Mage Hand__ had already caught it as it floated in the air before carefully floating its way back to Atticus. The old man breathed a sign of relief.

He tossed the last of his donut into his mouth to now free up his hand as he turned to grab his hat from his mage hand when he saw the figure of a man that was alarmingly close to him. 

"H-Hmph?"

He muttered in a short moment of surprise, nearly choking on his apple fritter. It was rare for anyone to get the drop on Atticus Xelnore. Forget the fact that they were clearly armed, Xelnore was already jaded enough to people attempting to take his life. He could have turned to see some defenseless orphan, cap in hand and he'd still have the same reaction. Whoever this was they were clearly more than a standard cutpurse.

On the topic of thievery too, Atticus, despite the earlier observation, was convinced that's what this was. A robbery. An old man dressed the way he is all alone on the dock, you'd have to be a true fool to pass up on a chance like that. It amused him, the thief thinking he was a defenseless old man. Xelnore believed that the man was underestimating him, however in truth it was Atticus who underestimated the danger he was in.

Rather than slinging a spell, a threat or even a greeting Xelnore held up a finger to the thief as though politely asking for a moment to which he finally finished what he had been chewing, letting out a satisfied sigh.

"Dreadfully sorry, it's been quite a while since my last mugging so I'm a bit rusty with the formalities behind this"

He explained as he turned to fully face the man. He couldn't help but be surprised by his appearance. Not the rabbit ears, mind you, it was interesting but Atticus had seen plenty of that kind before. What did catch his attention was his attire. A well dressed older man in a dress shirt and tie. The kind that you wouldn't take a second glance at if you passed him down the street. Atticus had to take a visible double take to make sure that he was indeed looking at a weapon in the mans hand. Was this truly a thief? If they weren't what did they want? Were they an assassin sent to kill Atticus? The sorcerer had many enemies but how could they know he was in Ardunon? He hadn't been here for more than a few hours?

Curious he decided to entertain his hypothesis that this was a thief. A very unusual thief but a thief none the less. 

"You'll have to forgive me, I spent the last of my coin purchasing these"

He gestured to the bag he was holding. A blatant lie, he didn't spent a coin to get these and he had a small bag full of more on his waist in the event he actually needed to spend it. Then, opening up the bag he took a look inside.

"Let's see... There's about 3 mo- no 4 left in here. Still pretty fresh, this should be sufficient I hope"

He stated as Atticus, in the process of being potentially robbed, held up the bag of pastries before the blade wielding man as though it would be sufficient payment.