NightlordKrusnik — Roleplayer Guild

Taris wiped the blood from his blade on the dead man’s cloak. “It’s nothing personal,” he told the corpse, “just business. I actually thought you quite the drinking companion. Just a shame you slept with the wrong man’s wife.” He turned away, into a patch of shadow, letting the darkness envelope him, caress him. Within moments he was miles away stepping out of another patch of shadow in one of his safe-houses. Another job done, and done well, it was time to report and receive his pay. He pulled the cover from a tall standing mirror and plopped indolently into a pile of cushions in front of it. “Master,” he called. The mirror image swam and morphed, in a few seconds became more akin to a window as the master of the Assassin’s Guild came into view.

“You’re late, Taris.”

The assassin smiled sardonically, perhaps unwisely. But he had always been reckless. “Apologies Master, but I don’t believe I had a time limit on this kill. I felt he deserved one last drink before my blade bit, that’s all.” Taris brushed a bit of stark white hair that was tipped with black out of his eyes. His own skin seemed a darker black still than the tips of his hair. Indeed like most Shadow Elves he seemed to almost absorb light rather than reflect it. “So what’s the new job?” he asked, knowing his master wouldn’t be so concerned about the time if he hadn’t already needed Taris for another job.

For a moment the man said nothing, and when he finally did speak he let a hint of his anger through. “You are arrogant Taris, you take unnecessary risks. Should have killed him and been done with it. But you are right in that I have another, very large assignment for you. You get to kill royalty.”

Taris perked up, interest piqued, all looks of lazy arrogance gone. Royalty. The ultimate marks. Just the thought sent a hunger into his eyes he could not hide. He uttered only a single word, “Who?”

His master smiled, and for a moment one could see how Death herself could be the man’s lover. “Three Dukes, their immediate heirs, a rather well connected Baron, and… Prince Kentaro.”

The assassin’s hunger deepened. “Give me the details.”

“A Royal cousin seeks to pave the way for his ascension and has given a timeline of two months. There is a tournament festival starting tomorrow on the Royal Estates, that will be your initial in. Feel free to enter a competition, if you must, there will be an archery contest. From there you will have to find your own path. We have agents within the Palace, keep vigilant and you will know who they are. Rumor has it that Princess Aera is not satisfied with her marriage to Kentaro, one of our agents will surely know more, and you may be able to use that to your advantage.”

Aera, that was a name Taris knew. “I’ve met her briefly, years ago. Quite a talented thief she was, managed to nab my belt pouch while I was helping the Thieves Guild give the run-around to some new members back then. Shame, though, she would have been very well known in the underworld had she not married the Prince. Woulda been nearly as rich too, I’m sure.”

The Guild Master did not look happy at this news. “Would she recognize you?” he asked.

Taris shrugged, “I doubt it, we never really talked, and this was several years ago.”

The man still didn’t look happy, but nodded. “If you are questioned before you can solidify an alibi, ask to be taken to the Royal Spymaster, he owes us a few favors. You well know all elves in the realm are regarded with suspicion by the humans, your kind especially. But the Princess seems your best bet to gain a more solid reason for a continued presence in the Palace. And one last thing Taris: the Princess is a secondary target. She is not well liked by the rest of Kentaro’s family but her marriage gives her a claim she could still make after his death. Hers is not necessary, but there’s a bonus for you if you eliminate her as well once she’s outlived her usefulness to you. Now prepare for tomorrow.”

Taris sat back in his cushions, a slight smile playing across his lips. Tomorrow would be the first of many good days, he thought.

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