Against the master bed, in this case a duvet rested over an old sofa bed, sat with his head down and his hands drooped to either side of him, Adrian reminisced over his latest contract. He was outfitted as accustomed, with his bow and sword resting on the floor near where he sat, and the black leather armour and cowl allowing him to meld into the night. His knife remained in its sheath on his right hip. His pale and unearthly beautiful face was stained with blood, and his fangs shone in the tender light of the moon.
The previous evening
Like an eagle, his eyes picked up the smallest of movements in the gloom. Two men, bulky and armoured in cheap leather hide with vicious curved blades sheathed at their sides. Their skin tanned by the sun, their faces hidden behind a mask of cruelty. Adrian watched from his hiding place atop one of the smaller shanties, peering down through the gloom at the guards. His target remained a few paces away, drinking from a large fountain which pooled into a shallow recess of cool marble. He likened it to a Roman villa, except for the barbaric backdrop to the scene he could almost believe it.
Finally, he had seen enough. Carefully he lifted the recurved bow from his back and drew a strangely crafted black arrow. In the same movement, the bow twanged near silently and the arrow was let loose, piercing the neck of one of the bulky guards as his companion turned to speak with his employer.
“We must go. Thi-“ The mercenary turned as he heard his comrade slump to the ground gracelessly, his cry a gurgle as the blood pooled from his fatal wound. He drew his sword in alarm, but to no avail as a thin blade was drawn across his throat by the shadowy figure of the Vampire Assassin. He also fell clutching his throat, but Adrian had already moved past him and sped towards the target a few paces away, reaching him before the second guard had even hit the ground.
“Blood drops, on the sand.” Adrian whispered. The target turned in alarm, a grossly fat man with water splashed across his face and stains on his rich apparel. Adrian had drawn his blade, and with one smooth lunge sent it through his chest. As he withdrew the cool metal which had so easily taken the man’s life, he allowed the stricken tyrant a moment of his time.
“The water removes the stains.” The fat man gurgled and choked as he dropped face down and his blood pooled across the sand at the front of the fountain. The water fountain spurted briefly and the stains were indeed washed away, if only momentarily.
“Yet bloodied I stay.” Adrian paused as he finished his parting gift, and drew his Obsidian blade. With a whispered incantation, he cut his own arm and allowed his life blood to drip into the fountain. After a few moments, he turned and climbed calmly back up onto the shanty house, taking the bow sheathing both blades and leaving the area.
He had waited out the day in the small safe house he had made for himself on arrival. There he remained until some-time into the night, just to be safe. He had some small amount of business to attend to in the town, and someone of his particular class had a habit of becoming awfully hungry.
Indeed, as he stood it became immediately apparent that he had already exhausted the supplies in his current location. Blood stains on the sheets and a single limp hand trailing from the bed gave a terrible insight into the horrific fate which had befallen the previous occupants. Calmly he wiped his face and shrugged his bow onto his shoulder, clipping his sword’s sheath to his left hip and striding from the house with cool confident steps. He had three of his custom arrows in a small quiver strapped to the small of his back, two hungry blades and vampiric blood in his veins.
He had work to do.