The first mission he received on pilgrimage made Silence anxious. Perhaps it was the anticipation of his first kill, the chance that the guard could easily turn on him, or maybe it was excitement for the chance to use his abilities. Whatever the reason was, his hands shook as he waited for the guards to bring the target to him. He had even rehearsed what he would say as he took the man’s life.
The City of Skilled Hands, Neverwinter, never seemed to sleep; the Blacklake District was, by no means, any different.
The wealth and power located in this small, beautiful area corrupts the entire city. Small taverns peddling nothing but the finest meads, wines, and ales are common; many of them providing gambling tables for the nobles that live in the mansions dotting the landscape.
This scene does not take place in the Blacklake district, but the Docks. The Blacklake guards often take their business elsewhere, in order to avoid an “unsightly” scene.
“You know whose money that is?” Two guards interrogate a captured thief. After a little “persuasion”, they turn their back to the criminal.
The thief replied, “It’s not uncommon that one gambles it all away in one evening. After all, the drink is the best in the city, it’s easy to get carried away.” He smirked, showing his stained teeth. “I’m not responsible for this guy’s careless disregard for his gold.”
He gasped. A blade slid along the lines of his neck.
“What is this!? Guards!?” he called out for help.
“Sounds quiet, it’s gonna be a peaceful night, don’t you think?” The guards spoke between themselves, attempting to appear unaware. “I’m gonna sleep easy when my shift’s over,” the other replied.
“Last words?” Asked the blade’s weilder, a hooded figure, clad in bare feet. A long broad tail swept out behind, assuring balance for such an extended stance.
The criminal began, “I…”
“Silence,” whispered the assassin, quickly dispatching the thief.
“I was instructed to keep the gold as payment.” The guards called as they turned around.
A vacant, bloody scene met them. Slowly they approached. The closer their inspection, the more the fact became obvious, “…Dammit! Our gold!” Shouted the guards.
Silence slipped the man’s gold into his belt before the kill, no sense in ruining the currency. He immediately dashed back into the darkness afterward, as he was trained to always do. When he heard them, he chuckled to himself, “That was bad ass!”