Post by Idrian on Oct 18, 2009 15:42:12 GMT -5
"The midnight hour." C repeated to himself for the third time this night as he looked down at his pocket watch. From the second story balcony which he was positioned at he could see into the alleyway and the main entrance to the bar his target was to come.
C was a simple man, at least that was what he wished to portray to the public. A neatly trimmed beard and just enough hair falling down his neck to give him an odd mix of a 'pretty-boy' and rugged. In his normal life, he was a carpenter, worn hands and strong arms yet oddly enough, he managed to keep a lithe form. On most days he closed up shop early, at times before dusk. Most didn't understand why he did such, others didn't care enough to ask. Yet for a few men and women, a grin would cross their minds when they saw the closed sign flip over early in the afternoon.
An assassin, a secretive life. Recently he had to stay hidden, the 'heat' as they call it, of his last hit was long in coming to rest. Finally, after a few long months could he come out of hiding, and get back to his inhonset living. And what a find was at his desk when he opened up shop early one morning. A satchel nearly full of gold and silver with simple instructions telling him to wait in the particular location he found himself in this very night.
It was here C found another sum of gold waiting, and more instructions to wait until midnight to follow a certain noble, Garard, to his estate and place a dagger in his heart while he slept.
Normally such a request would have to be delayed for at least a few months, cycles and routines had to be checked and learned before a clean hit could be made. C didn't pride himself on being sloppy with his work after all. But this particular case was different. He was being led by a trail of gold so to speak, but he was also given information in the letters he had read, most of which vital information C would need for his target. From the path Garard would take all the way up to what time the bloated man went to sleep.
As well thought out as these instructions are, it had to have been an inside job, perhaps a maid tired of her bosses advances, or even another assassin, and if the later were the case, then something peculiar would be taking place this evening.
"No time to think about that." C muttered to himself as he noticed some movement at the main entrance of the bar he was watching. "So there's the bloated cow." C mused quietly as Garard walked out of the building, an obvious scent of booze and smoke wafting up as high as the vantage point C was in. Garard wasn't even guarded, how easy it would have been to take the man's life. However, instructions were particular about the man dying with a curved dagger with a silver hilt to the heart. If that's what the mystery employer wanted, that's what he would get.
Just as Garard was making his way to his estate, a hooded figure ran up, if one could consider the obviously drunk person able to run that is. By the actions of the hands of the hooded figure tugging on Garard's arm and the annoyed grunts the man was giving. It would be easy to determine that the other person was indeed a drunk woman who was looking through some sort of beer goggles. Eventually Garard overpowered the woman and tossed her to the ground, the poor lady landed unceremoniously onto her back, after such. Laughter could be heard from the sickly overweight man as he sauntered off.
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A few hours had passed, C was waiting outside of Garard's estate, his informant had told him the door would be unlocked, and unguarded at the third hour, a change in shifts it could be assumed. The fact the door was unlocked further confirmed C that this was an inside job, but such time for thinking the job over was through for the time quickly approached when he would make his move.
Letting out a slow and controlled breath, C quietly pushed the door to the estate open with a painfully long and drawn out squeak. Which, by the grace of whatever god, did not draw attention. Closing the door behind him, C darted off down the dark hallways, he knew exactly where the target was sleeping, and was told he only had three minutes to get to him before the guards were at their post.
Finally, after what felt an eternity, and with adrenaline pumping, C sleuthed into the room where his target was sleeping. To his surprise, the fat man wasn't one that snored. Creeping up to the bed, C's eyes widened in shock as he realized his target had already been hit, a dagger, with a silver handle had been thrust into Garard's heart while he slept on the bed. Had there been another assassin out after the same target? There couldn't have been, it was specifically mailed to...
Sudden a crash was heard outside the room, the sound an ornate jar would make as it were shoved over to shatter about the floor. "sh*t!" C cursed, he'd been set up! Before he had time to reach the door, guards were there, a brief struggle was made before the assassin known as C was killed in the private chambers of Garard.
-----------------------------------------
The next day, an elven woman sat, overlooking the Stormwind Harbor. The sun had just risen to its peak before a man dressed in priestly garb moved to sit next to the elf.
"It seems that a carpenter and an assassin lost his life last night in a noble man's estate." The man muttered before continuing. "I don't suppose you have any clue as to why this happened, or had any involvement in this?"
To the questions, the elf raised a brow, a faint hint of a grin crossing her lips, "The Carpenter Assassin? Yes I've heard about his untimely death. And at the hands of the guard in an unimportant noble man's house. I suppose he never took into consideration that as easy a job may seem, you can never help but second guess your employer."
"Quite." The man responded in turn, "Your payment will be in the same location as all our past transactions had ended." With that, he stood and began to walk off before calling out over his shoulder, "I'm sure that we will be requiring your services at a later date, Master Sergeant."
C was a simple man, at least that was what he wished to portray to the public. A neatly trimmed beard and just enough hair falling down his neck to give him an odd mix of a 'pretty-boy' and rugged. In his normal life, he was a carpenter, worn hands and strong arms yet oddly enough, he managed to keep a lithe form. On most days he closed up shop early, at times before dusk. Most didn't understand why he did such, others didn't care enough to ask. Yet for a few men and women, a grin would cross their minds when they saw the closed sign flip over early in the afternoon.
An assassin, a secretive life. Recently he had to stay hidden, the 'heat' as they call it, of his last hit was long in coming to rest. Finally, after a few long months could he come out of hiding, and get back to his inhonset living. And what a find was at his desk when he opened up shop early one morning. A satchel nearly full of gold and silver with simple instructions telling him to wait in the particular location he found himself in this very night.
It was here C found another sum of gold waiting, and more instructions to wait until midnight to follow a certain noble, Garard, to his estate and place a dagger in his heart while he slept.
Normally such a request would have to be delayed for at least a few months, cycles and routines had to be checked and learned before a clean hit could be made. C didn't pride himself on being sloppy with his work after all. But this particular case was different. He was being led by a trail of gold so to speak, but he was also given information in the letters he had read, most of which vital information C would need for his target. From the path Garard would take all the way up to what time the bloated man went to sleep.
As well thought out as these instructions are, it had to have been an inside job, perhaps a maid tired of her bosses advances, or even another assassin, and if the later were the case, then something peculiar would be taking place this evening.
"No time to think about that." C muttered to himself as he noticed some movement at the main entrance of the bar he was watching. "So there's the bloated cow." C mused quietly as Garard walked out of the building, an obvious scent of booze and smoke wafting up as high as the vantage point C was in. Garard wasn't even guarded, how easy it would have been to take the man's life. However, instructions were particular about the man dying with a curved dagger with a silver hilt to the heart. If that's what the mystery employer wanted, that's what he would get.
Just as Garard was making his way to his estate, a hooded figure ran up, if one could consider the obviously drunk person able to run that is. By the actions of the hands of the hooded figure tugging on Garard's arm and the annoyed grunts the man was giving. It would be easy to determine that the other person was indeed a drunk woman who was looking through some sort of beer goggles. Eventually Garard overpowered the woman and tossed her to the ground, the poor lady landed unceremoniously onto her back, after such. Laughter could be heard from the sickly overweight man as he sauntered off.
-----------------------------------------------
A few hours had passed, C was waiting outside of Garard's estate, his informant had told him the door would be unlocked, and unguarded at the third hour, a change in shifts it could be assumed. The fact the door was unlocked further confirmed C that this was an inside job, but such time for thinking the job over was through for the time quickly approached when he would make his move.
Letting out a slow and controlled breath, C quietly pushed the door to the estate open with a painfully long and drawn out squeak. Which, by the grace of whatever god, did not draw attention. Closing the door behind him, C darted off down the dark hallways, he knew exactly where the target was sleeping, and was told he only had three minutes to get to him before the guards were at their post.
Finally, after what felt an eternity, and with adrenaline pumping, C sleuthed into the room where his target was sleeping. To his surprise, the fat man wasn't one that snored. Creeping up to the bed, C's eyes widened in shock as he realized his target had already been hit, a dagger, with a silver handle had been thrust into Garard's heart while he slept on the bed. Had there been another assassin out after the same target? There couldn't have been, it was specifically mailed to...
Sudden a crash was heard outside the room, the sound an ornate jar would make as it were shoved over to shatter about the floor. "sh*t!" C cursed, he'd been set up! Before he had time to reach the door, guards were there, a brief struggle was made before the assassin known as C was killed in the private chambers of Garard.
-----------------------------------------
The next day, an elven woman sat, overlooking the Stormwind Harbor. The sun had just risen to its peak before a man dressed in priestly garb moved to sit next to the elf.
"It seems that a carpenter and an assassin lost his life last night in a noble man's estate." The man muttered before continuing. "I don't suppose you have any clue as to why this happened, or had any involvement in this?"
To the questions, the elf raised a brow, a faint hint of a grin crossing her lips, "The Carpenter Assassin? Yes I've heard about his untimely death. And at the hands of the guard in an unimportant noble man's house. I suppose he never took into consideration that as easy a job may seem, you can never help but second guess your employer."
"Quite." The man responded in turn, "Your payment will be in the same location as all our past transactions had ended." With that, he stood and began to walk off before calling out over his shoulder, "I'm sure that we will be requiring your services at a later date, Master Sergeant."
Founded April 26, 2005