It was a night like any other. The wind blew strong among the sentinels on top of the wall, watching the borders of their city. Its inhabitants slept soundly, as they were unaware of it’s imminent infiltration.

Seven masked soldiers silently approached the walls from below. They exchanged looks and nods among each other before one of them prepared an arrow tied to a rope and took out the first sentinel with a strong pull. His body fell from the battlement and landed with a meaty thud, just like his partner’s. Quickly as spiders, the soldiers climbed up the wall through a well-placed grappling hook and efficiently killed the remaining sentinels without a single warning. One of them pulled out a map of the city and took a moment to analyze it, searching for the route they had previously marked down. Another secured his grappling hook to the other side of the wall and proceeded to guide the others into the city.

One by one, each soldier scaled down the wall and advanced through the concrete veins and arteries of Taubernest with unparalleled stealth. Their shadows never left their bodies, as they kept to the paths where the lights from the streetlamps could not reach, until they arrived at an alleyway within eyeshot of their target. Their leader, a man with a plain metallic mask of a crow, gestured silent orders to them and advanced to the blacksmith, leaving two of his soldiers to scout the area around it.

Since the building had no backdoors, he guided the rest of the group across the street and started to lockpick the front door with patience and efficiency born from extensive experience. With a small click, the door quietly slid ajar, revealing the blacksmith himself sleeping on top of his workbench while barely holding a hammer in his leather gloves. The prodigious amount of weapons around him made it clear how overworked he was. Without wasting another second, they spread around the place and carefully sacked it’s merchandise, starting with smaller weapons like daggers and shortswords. Unfortunately, the man’s hearing was not so damaged from the years of constantly beating metal that he didn’t perceive its muffled but familiar sound. He softly huffed as he woke up and looked around, taking a moment to process his surroundings. He quickly raised his hammer and went for the closest masked soldier he saw. Faster than a man of his age had any right to be, the blacksmith managed to get a solid hit on him before another one quickly approached from behind and tried to put him in headlock. Once again, they misjudged the man’s physical prowess when he grabbed his attacker and threw him over his shoulder, sending him crashing on the swords and spears neatly arranged on the wall. The others didn’t give him much time to breath before they piled on top of their burly opponent, rendering him unconscious after a few seconds.

Worried that someone might have heard the fight, the crow masked soldier ran up stairs to investigate. With his shortsword in hand, he checked the two small and empty bedrooms before heading to one of their windows and searching for more possible witnesses of their infiltration.

As he glanced around the streets below and inspected the nearby houses, something within the house in front of him caught his attention. A concerned young woman with a grey streak of hair dangling in the night breeze stared at him from the highest window. It contrasted with the rest of her brown hair, while her fair skin seemed to faintly glow with the dim light of the moon. The whole scene intrigued him for a moment, as if it was taken out of a painting. Yet, it wasn’t enough to make him forget his mission. He quickly calculated the distance between them two and how long it would take for him to reach her house before she could alert someone. Judging by how quickly she disappeared from his view, he probably didn’t have much time before she alerted every single person in the house and rendered his operation useless. That wasn’t the first time something like that had happened during a mission, and he knew exactly what to do next.

He quickly rushed down the stairs and darted out the door, much to the confusion of his comrades. Within a matter of seconds, he reached the house’s backdoor and bypassed its simple spring mechanism. A denouncing creak of wood stopped him from fully opening the door, forcing him to leave it slightly open instead. He proceeded to silently sidle his way into the living room, where a desperate woman’s voice could be heard trying to warn someone else of his presence. As he approached, he saw his target frantically shaking a middle-aged stubby man sleeping in a leather armchair. He opened his eyes and exchanged a few words with her before turning away. The masked man took that opportunity and lunged towards the woman like a snake, covering her mouth and tightly holding her one of her arms.

“Do not make a sound.” He snarled.

She silently trembled in response, but the tears that ran free from her eyes made him slightly loosen his grip.

However, before he could neutralize his target and continue with his mission, the man in the armchair turned around and screamed at him.

“Who the fuck are you?! Get out of my house before I split you open!” Yelled the frail little man as he awkwardly pulled a sword from above the fireplace.

“Shut it you drunk, one wrong move and the girl gets it.” He said in a low threatening voice.

“Pick on someone your own size, fuck face!” He angrily retorted, blindly advancing towards the masked man.

In a split second decision, he pushed the woman to the side and unsheathed the shortsword hidden under his cloak, blocking the man’s attack with ease and sending his weapon flying across the room. Seizing the opportunity, the soldier slashed at his throat with trained precision, killing him on the spot.

He turned again to the woman, who was sitting on the floor with a shocked expression plastered on her face. His pragmatism told him to simply finish her off and return to his group as quickly as possible, but a better idea came into his mind and convinced him otherwise.

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“Move.” He said as he picked her up and pulled her back to where he came from.

Surprisingly compliant, the woman obeyed and tried to keep up with his pace.

They arrived at the alley just in time to hear a desperate scream coming from the house, signaling that it was best to leave while they could. The rest of his squad were waiting for him in the backstreet. He nodded at them and carried the woman over his shoulder before they all quietly ran into the night. After traversing the walls, they loaded the cart with their spoils and rode away from Taubernest while the sun rose behind their backs.

Once they were at a safe distance from the city, the soldiers removed their masks and bantered amongst themselves.

“Nice work there Roswell.” Leonard called out from the side of the cart.

“That old motherfucker sure had some muscle on him huh?”

“I’m surprised your back isn’t all fucked up from being thrown around like a doll.” Brando said, playfully punching Roswell’s back.

“Arck! That still hurts, you TWAT!” Roswell ached as he recoiled away from Brando, who chuckled from the back of the cart.

“Oh, stop complaining. It’s not like you got hammered in the head or something.” He said, pointing to the big bump on his head.

“We’ll get you both to the infirmary when we get back.” Said Krawer in his usual sober tone while driving the cart.

“So I’ll ‘ave to deal with that brunette little gremlin? As if!” Roswell exclaimed.

“I thought you liked Emily.” Harkus mockingly piped up.

“The fuck I do, she’s a right psycho.”

“Come on now, she’s not all that bad.” Tarkus retorted with the shadow of a smile on his face.

“Are we not going to talk about the woman?” Joe murmured, glancing at the confused and scared maiden curled up in the corner.

“Oh yeah, why the girl Krawer?” Leonard curiously asked their leader.

“An extra pair of hands for the Stitchers.” Krawer said without taking his eyes off the road.

The other soldiers all glanced back towards the woman looking at the road behind them, but ultimately ignored her for the rest of the trip. They knew it was better not to make her more scared than she already was.

The cart then took a turn into a forest for quite a while and stopped at a clearing full of tents and people going about their daily routines.

“Home sweet battalion…” said Roswell nonchalantly.

“Cheer up Ross, you’re about to be nursed by your dear sweetheart.” Tarkus and Harkus said in unison.

“Shut up, just shut the fuck up you fucking pair of weirdos! Fuck, my back!” Roswell cursed as he jumped off.

Joe simply shaked his head, doing his best to hold his laugh while Leonard and Brando seemed to be at the brink of tears.

Krawer sighed, ruffling his dark hair, before stepping out of the driver’s seat and stretching for a bit. He took a deep breath, letting the morning dew fill his lungs and clear his mind for a few moments. He then walked up to his squad, and their laughter was quickly replaced by a respectful silence.

“Good work.” He simply said with a hint of a smile in his voice.

They saluted him in perfect synchrony, each of them carrying satisfied expressions for a job well done.

“But could be better.” Krawer said in his rare mocking tone, returning his team to their joyful mood.

He turned to the curious but hesitant young woman at the back of the cart. Though her expression wasn’t so fearful as before, she still recoiled a bit after she noticed his look on her.

"Let's go.” He offered his hand to her and did his best to look as disarming as possible, despite his usual commanding tone.

She cautiously accepted his hand and joined the others on their way through the camp.

“We’ll get you to the recruitment tent to evaluate your role.” Krawer explained as they walked.

“Tell them about any useful skill you might have, they will determine where and how far you’ll be positioned as a Stitcher.”

“What does that mean?” She timidly asked.

“You’ll see. There’s no secret about it, it’s quite simple actually.” They reached one of the large tents that stood from the others around the camp. These had coats of arms stitched to their sides and were rich in colour.

“As long as you are useful, you’ll get everything you need.” He patted her on her shoulder before leaving.

He felt her eyes on him as he walked to his tent, but he paid no mind to it. She didn’t seem completely inept to him, albeit a bit too shy and fearful. She could probably fend for herself.

Just before he entered his tent however, he turned around to look at her from afar. Her little form stood still at the entrance, exactly where he left her. He rolled his eyes a bit and started to make his way towards her until he saw her slowly entering the place. He chuckled to himself and shook his head, thinking how silly he was for needlessly worrying about someone he just met. In spite of that, the feeling stuck with him for a while, even after he laid on his bed and chased after some sleep.