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An Assassin's Folly

Skoton October 3, 2011 User blog:Skoton

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I paused, breathing heavily, feeling the heavy rain pounding upon my form masqueraded by brier. Watching, waiting for what seemed like hours, thinking… This noble was foolish, even for an Orlesian. Crossing the Coterie was dangerous. Purchasing from ’rivals’ as they were, buying out loyalties from cutthroats, and pushing the guard to raid bases. He was bad for business, the guild wanted him dead and they sent me to make certain. It is also rumored he is a staunch supporter of reclaiming Ferelden… My breath stops, through the rain I notice figures, a patrol making rounds.

I wait for them to pass, then hurry towards the tall stone wall, scaling it with some ease. Dropping down to the other side, I am glad for the heavy downpour to silence any noise I might make, though I scowl. This mission will be difficult, but it must be accomplished. The mark will set off for Val Chevin anon, and this flurry of rain is likely to soon lessen. After traveling through groves, plains, and forests for a fortnight I would be glad to see in an inn for once, be warmed by a fire.

I am cautious, most in the guild consider me too cautious. But there is no such thing as too cautious, that is one of the aspects that makes me one of the Coterie’s best. Avoiding roads, never warming myself with the heat of a blaze while resting, and more just to travel unseen. This noble might expect an attack, but he would get no warning from me. I shake my head, dispelling all thoughts and wade towards the manor carefully. Making certain to be unseen by patrols, also any chance onlookers from the large manor.

I pause below a window, crouching low. Waiting for a patrol to pass, I attempt to push the window up. Anger begins to boil within me as the window stays, the Coteries’ inside man was suppose to unlock it. He screwed up and he’ll pay for that after this, I’ll make certain of it. Grunting silently, I study the window. I notice it is like most others of the manor, the glass thick, and the bars still down. I think of the agent in the manor.

If he held his tongue, this will not be bloody.. If he didn’t, I will almost certainly die in some trap. I continued on anyways, pushing such thoughts from my mind. I must focus on my mission, death awaits me if I fail, no different than if this is a trap. I stealthily approach a servants’ entrance on the west side of the manor, several yards from the window I had hoped to enter from. I pull out my second most used tools, and I begin working on the lock of the door. As I expected I soon hear the satisfying clink as it unlocks. I sigh to myself, and slowly turn the knob, pushing the door open at an even more antagonizing gradual pace.

I am one of the best assassins of the Coterie, but I tend to be impatient. It is one of the few reasons I am not the top, but caution is required. I force down my eagerness and proceed slowly, the door opens at an excruciating pace. I slip in once the door is open enough , less than a yard is all I needed. I chuckle inside my head, an aspect that causes such hatred of me is an aspect that I’ve found incredibly useful.

I tread through the hallways, glad for the enchantments weaved within my garment, they will not stain and water simply slides off, though the same can not be said for my hair. Making for the stairway, not a noise is created as I move. I freeze halfway up the first flight of stairs, my breath catching in my throat. I see a shadow directly ahead, cast by a guard and his lantern. I hear his armor clang, his sword jingle at his waist as he walks down the stairs. I heads up the stairs, pulling a dagger out, waiting.. As the guard rounds the corner, I pounce! Shoving a hand on his mouth as my blade finds his heart the onyx easily slices through his red steel splintmail. Pushing him into the wall before he reacts or realizes what has occurred. I smile, as life drains from his face, as I see the fear and confusion in his eyes.

I am not cruel, but I enjoy my work. Nothing is as thrilling as bleeding the life from someone, seeing the fear in there eyes. I usually prefer hearing them beg, hearing their cries, their pleas as they died, but I need silence. I slumped the body against the wall, dousing the lantern he carried, and I head up. I move through the second floor, avoiding any more chance patrols, though encountering one unlucky maid, a girl of perhaps eleven as she left a room, no doubt scared by the lightning. She didn’t even scream as I delicately thrust my dagger up while cupping her mouth with my hand, bleeding her lie from her jaw. I smile once again as she dies, glad to be using my favorite tools so often.

The manor is a maze, but a maze’s layout I memorized, I come to the stairway to the third floor soon enough. Stalking towards my target’s lounge on the third floor. I see two guards outside of the room, nothing I didn’t expect. Though I did not expect to hear a voice from behind me, I twist around as he vocalizes “Intruder!” He sees my face and garb then yells “Assas-!” His voice cuts off, an explosive strike quick as a flash of lightning, one blade finding his neck, the second his stomach. A pointlessly death, but he valiant attempt was enough to alter the other guards.

I quickly pull out a small round flask, throwing it between the guards. My miasmic flask explodes between them, blinding and stunning them. I quickly rush forward, slicing both of their necks while they are stunned. Four quick slashes, and the thin wooden door to the lounge is broken down as the guards collapse to the floor. I laugh aloud as I walk in, the noble is just sitting there, while sipping wine. He just watches out a large window, not paying me any mind.

“Terrion D’Mour.. You were easier to find than I expected, you know why I am here.” I say while approaching him, daggers in both hands. He has no reputation as being a notable fighter, being a short pudgy man, with thick, black and greasy hair atop his fat round head. I snicker as I realize how much he reminds me of a pig. “You are a rude guest, killing my guards, breaking down a door, nothing more than some might expect from an elf..“ He states with a glance back, not sounding nervous or worried with an assassin approaching “No doubt the Coterie sent you to ride them of me once and for all.” My senses tell me something is wrong,

Ignoring his comment but heeding my senses, I pull out another flask throwing it onto the ground, rushing towards him as it explodes, to end this farce. I scowl, my daggers meet a blade as I slash for the fat noble’s head through the miasma. I jump back, a wide arc of a slash comes down where I stood before. I throw several daggers, though the miasma soon clears. Next to the fat noble stands a woman, sword in one hand, shield in the opposite with my daggers embedded into it. Eying her closely I notice she wears the raiment of the Orlesian Chevaliers. She has dark auburn brown hair curled down to her shoulders, with a rather attractive face . “So the pig has a woman fight for him?” I sneer, attempting to irritate the noble or Chevalier.

The only response I receive is a charge from the woman, she brings her sword down on me from above in a heavy strike which I easily dodge. Though barely managing to duck as she fluently bashes her shield at me. From my ducked position, I lash out at her legs. Though her boot manage to find my face first, sending me rolling. Crashing against the wall with a thud, I scowl after jumping up, daggers at the ready. The familiar throbbing, the feeling of a warm liquid ebbing down... My noise is broken, blood pouring down. I groan, glaring, gauging her ability as she steps forward.

I swallow hard, with the realization of my situation. She is a better fighter than I am, and there will certainly be more guards coming. This isn’t a fight I can win. Scowling at my thoughts, I push all them from my mind once more, rushing towards her. Retrieving a flask as I approach, I throw it on the ground in-between us. I roll past her, hoping up and continue my sprint towards the noble. As I bring my daggers down towards him, I feel her shield slam into my back. Though she caught my back, a blade finds the noble.

He yelps, as I stumble forward I manage a glace back. The edge caught the side of his head, above the ear. I notice blood and a small chunk of hair missing. Scowling, I quickly twist around and regain my balance in time to see the wench’s sword coming down at me once again, I barely block with both of my daggers, she quickly continues her assault Barely managing to defend myself, I soon see an opportunity. I kick before she manages to bash as, my foot slams into her shin, I scowl! My drakeskin boots hits her silvite greave, doing little as she changes her stance. I lurch forward as her armored fist slams into my stomach. A thought comes to mind.. I laugh, this was a trap. They knew I was coming, how I'd react, everything! Soon after, the pommel of her sword slams into my temple… I lapse out of consciousness.

Hours later I awoke, I suppose letting me live was a message to the Coterie, and stripping me down to my small clothes was probably to irk me. I sit up, my head throbbing, my body aching.. Heavily injured, groaning as I stand , I look around. Scowling once more, they tossed me in some clearing in the forest around the manor. With little hope of survival in my current state.. Little notion where I am, I set off.

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