Getting out unseen wasn’t that difficult of a task as it had seemed. All he had to do was wait until dark came and everyone was asleep but the guards of the main gates, who were in the tavern getting drunk like every week. It would seem quite peculiar how the gate's guards of a small town would take time off at night, when it was more likely that questionable people might enter or exit the premises at a time like this. However, there are facts to be taken into consideration before making judgments about the guards as lazy or indifferent. The town is located deep in the woods, and is quite small. The people of the town are mostly self sufficient, besides the occasional check up from the king’s men to see how things are going in general. Crime was not something the town's people had grown accustomed to, the only being petty thefts performed by wild animals who are capable of flight or climbing, stealing some fruit or nuts. Another factor was that the small area of the woods the town is within is located on a plateau, surrounded by a river that splits at the start of it and reconnects at the end, forming a ditch like structure, and around that a large amount of thick vegetation and greenery. The town was well hidden, its people worked together, and rarely had visitors. The guards could be generally deemed unnecessary.
Even though it never seemed like it would matter, at the time the guards enjoyed themselves the main gate was being watched over by the town’s blacksmith, Gavin Adeney. Besides watching over the gates, he would sharpen and repair the guards’ axes which go blunt with frequent use; their weapons seem to never go blunt for they are rarely used, and only require an occasional shining for they get rusty with time. Gavin was a very careful man, maybe too careful. His job required it and it led to him voluntarily monitoring the gates when the guards left. To him you were never too safe, and this time his intuitions are right.
The hooded man approached the gate. He wasn’t walking or running, but he seemed in a hurry. He was of average height. The details of his face were barely visible, except for the glimmer of moonlight reflecting into his eyes being revealed as his hood rustled with his movements. He carried a large leather-skin sack over his shoulders. Approaching the gate, he slowed the pace of his stride, and bent down, and shifted towards the right, for in front of him was Gavin’s shack right next to the gate, yellow light from the fire place glowing from inside through the window. He inched closer, kneeling against the wooden wall under the window. He placed his sack next to him, and thought about what to do next. They had agreed to meet here, but no one had showed up yet. He needed the mayor to convince Gavin to give them the keys to the gate, and the thief to commit the deed that was very crucial to the success of this venture.