Kyle swore "Dusts " As he heard about the shipments. He got up sure that his guests would not miss him as he climbed the stares to his bed camber. He pulled on his working clothes , A shimmer steel mask. A boiled leather shirt with plate male over his kill spots along with chain mail over ribs. Pants that had strike plate on the knees. Putting on a short sword and a few daggers on his belt. And poison pouches along his back. Tucking a throwing knife in a boot. Kyle louched himself into the night. Making his way to the docks running over the roof tops. Kyle pulled the shadows around himself.
Kyle watched the docks, seeing an armed boat with city guards patrolling around. Kyle watched from the roof top the smell of died fish meeting his nose. Kyle swore as he watched men chained to the mast. Kyle knew he found his boat. Two patrols ten men each kyle sighed he could not get the slaves off the boat with out noticing.
Kyle leapt off the roof touching his power lowing his legs and knees take the impact of landing on the street. Dashing foreword kyle lifted his foot and kicked a sentry in the side of the neck. Braking it and pulling the shadows over the dead body. Kyle moved into the port and dock. A patrol was moving to Kyle. Reaching into his pouch kyle flung the powter into the guards they all began gagging and bleeding from there lungs.
Kyle smiled "one patrol down." Kyle said to himself. He Kyle ran into the next patrol Kyle fell into them like a hunting cat. Sword flashing bodies falling . Kyle's violence unleashed the patrol died not having enough time to sound the alarm. Sneaking onto the boat kyle expertly picked the lock on the chains and pointed the men. To the gap in the perimeter. Kyle dropped oil on the weapons and over the boat. Throwing a lantern on the oil the boat catches flame. Kyle ran off into the night .
Back at the Black Thorn kyle took off his working clothes . Thumping down the stares to the bar and poured himself a stiff drink. Enjoying being able to unwind after the job.