Act I

Between crowded streets of stone, a menacing shadow stalked. Its figure hidden beneath cloak and gambeson. As the figure approached people scattered out of its unnerving presence. They were wary of the sword at its side, clinking to a tune of many men slain. The being had no interest in the citizens of the city, for it was no monster but a man. A man who on that morning needed to draw blood of only one more before his thirst was once and for all sated. His sharp brown eyes were set on a great red brick building in the distance. That was where his blade was aimed. Aimed at the heart of a man who’s mouth exhaled peace but heart pumped for war. A man unworthy of all except a quick death. 

It was at the opposite end of a plaza where the building laid. Up ahead, many people congregated at a park, one of the remnants of the land that now laid below the floating settlement. The assassin dodged through crowds as large masses of people went to work and horse drawn wagons piled high with goods attempted to squeeze through them all. It was how the capital had always been, suspension in the air would inhibit its expansion thus preventing it from ever seeming vacant. He stopped beside a tree at the edge of the park. There in front of him was the embassy of the Tavaranean Empire. Past its guarded metal gate was a courtyard, with a fountain and flower garden that would be nice to look at on any other day. Within the darkness of his cloak, the man’s eyes darted between the four guards around the compound. The two at the gate held bill spears and stood as motionless as statues at their post. The other two were behind the gate, meandering about the place as if there was a chance that a thief would pounce at them from within the garden. “I suppose entering through the front door won’t be an option today.” the man thought to himself as he looked around for another path. Two thin alleyways cut through both sides of the building, “Lucky me that there are no safeguards for eavesdroppers.” 

Sneaking through the crowds to avoid suspicion, the man was suddenly encased in shadow as the light from the sun was blocked by brick architecture. The red bricks of the embassy stretched towards the end of the alleyway. The man looked up towards the roof. The two wings to the left and the right of the building were only two floors, while the center was three. He knew his target would be in the center, but it would be a much more difficult climb. His hand reached towards the four pronged grappling hook attached to his waist. Extending from its back was a wheel of rope. He unfastened the hook and released the lock on the line of rope until it reached a reasonable length. Climbing buildings had always been a process of trial and error, so he was always prepared for when gravity brought it back towards him. The hook soared up towards the top until it reached the roof. “And to think that remembering everything would be difficult!” He gave the rope a few pulls, allowing the hook to nest itself into the tiles. Attaching the length of the rope nearest to him to a hook on his belt, he tightened it to his body to prevent a fall. The man did a quick stretch before he moved, it had been months since the last time he had done such a maneuver and the last thing he wanted was to cramp while climbing. ”Time to really see what I remember.” He jumped up high towards the wall, pulling his arms and leg up so he could land on the brick. Planting his legs firmly on the wall, the man began his ascent.

By the time he reached the roof his legs and arms began to ache tremendously. “Come on body, just one last job.” He said as he attempted to lift himself over the railing. “One last job and I can live in a nice house, outside of this damn city!” His body groaned, the man felt as if it were about to tear in two. “Get me over this cursed thing!” He grunted aloud and with one final effort he was over the abyss and laying on the roof. He panted heavily as beads of sweat began to crawl down his forehead, the sun was now in full view above him, its radiance providing a colorful glow over the sea of rooftops stretching out toward the horizon. “That's a sight.” Getting back on his legs, he looked toward the center of the city. A flock of birds soared above, flying in the direction of a great marble palace. Its five spires struck out like spears in the center of the city. Four of them surrounded the tallest one in the middle which stretched out high enough to touch the clouds. It was the capital of the Honean Republic, one of the great human nations of the world. As his breath slowed to normal the man broke his eyes away from the sight, focusing back on the length of the roof. It was a straight but uneven path to a window that led into the section of the building with three floors. Crouching down, he moved at a pace he found comfortable, taking quick glances into the courtyard to pass the time. A large fountain of water was placed in the  center, it sprouted enough to evoke the feeling of thirst. The place was also lined with a garden of tall red tipped flowers that appeared to be foreign, “Tavaranien maybe?” It was a Tavaranien embassy after all, the empire which had spent its lifetime fighting Honeans would not be inclined to put their plants within its territory. The sight of guards within the gates made him push himself farther to the opposite end of the roof. “Scary.” Memories of the last time he had been spotted on a rooftop returned, the city guard were not fond of ending a chase. 

The window was only a single pane and large enough to fit through. He made sure not to show his whole body as he looked through. There was a staircase beneath it, the way up to the third floor. No one was in sight, good for him. That was to be expected though, as the one who had proposed the idea had made sure that the halls would be empty when he arrived. He had been approached by a suspicious young woman with a large amount of wealth for this job. While his mind told him that it would not be a good idea he needed coin for his planned permanent residence. With a quick swing of his hook the glass splintered and crashed onto a crimson rug upon the wooden stairs. It made him cringe but he shook his head and continued onward, leaping through the window and making sure that he did not fall on the glass. He ascended with quick but quiet steps, his head turning like an owl towards every little sound. “Anyone home?” His head slowly creeped out into the desolate third floor hallway. Looking around corners always made his heart race, uncomfortable but helpful if his next action involved running the other way. Rays of light lined shone through windows on the left side allowing him to easily make out the hallway’s details. He snuck across the room with a quiet grace that made him his own sole eavesdropper. He glanced at each door as he passed by, each had an engraved metal plate stuck to the frame that showed the name of the office holder. His legs suddenly halted, nearly bringing the top half of his body falling over as his eyes fell upon the right door. A metal plate labeled 'Sir Gelem - Ambassador' was screwed into it. Quickly going at the door with a lockpick, he was able to make it inside within only a few moments. The man had found that most locks were only meant to keep those of a peaceful demeanor out of the room. As the door began to slide forward with a creak, he kept his hand on his arming sword. He peaked around as soon as his head could fit through. Empty, there was no need to creep. 

The office was laid out upon a fancily designed red rug. Morning light poured through giving the place a very elegant look. A large dark wooden desk sat in the center with documents piled high upon it. Two shelves sat on each side of the windows, both showing an interesting display of trinkets. The door slowly went back to its original position as the man went to inspect something that caught his eye. On the right shelf was a small golden goblet with the face of a golden hawk sculpted into it. It was too familiar for him to leave alone and his hand quickly snatched it up for inspection. "This is eerily familiar." He reached for the necklace that hung beneath his cloak. It was a large circular coin with the face of a golden hawk shaped upon it, the same face on the goblet. He knew what it was immediately. It was a treasure from the long dead Brighthawk Empire. Unlike many stories that were told by foreigners, he had not dug up the necklace from old ruins, instead it was given to him as a gift while his blade had plunged into the stomach of a Duke. The Duke’s only reasoning for such an act was to keep it hidden. His killer had only kept it out of pity. “Not my business.” He thought as he put the necklace away. Wars were fought over such artifacts and he wanted no place in it. 

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Focusing back on his task, the man went for the door to the right of the entrance, the woman had told him it was the ambassador’s bedroom. He unsheathed his weapon. No more waiting, the door lacked a lock so he kicked it open and charged inside. As soon as he entered his eyes widened. Upon the large red bed laid a man who added to its color. The bald old man that had once been the ambassador was now a corpse, his throat slit open and his clothing covered in dry blood.

As soon as the door closed the man cursed. "Someone must have gotten the damn bounty before me!" Scurrying towards the man, he inspected the scene. There was no evidence of suicide. He let out a great sigh, "Shame, hopefully I get something out of this.” Sheathing his weapon the man paced around the room for a moment. "Back to the window then." He said to himself in resignation as he headed for the door. A thunderous sound erupted as he began to twist the knob causing him to retract his hand. They were footsteps and fast ones too. Realizing that they were heading his way he cursed and began to quickly look around for an escape. As soon as his eyes fell on the single window of the room he darted towards it. His hands trembled as he released the latch and flung it open. He planted his hook on the frame and began to climb out. As soon as one of his legs reached over, the door was thrown open and the man’s heart sank. His eyes widened in surprise as he realized who it was, it was the same woman who had offered him the job. She was dressed as a Honean officer and was flanked by a pair of embassy guards. As the man began to frantically exit the window the woman spoke.

“Don’t try to run now Vanemar.” The mention of his name struck the man like steel, making him stop mid lunge. She smirked. "You’ve been caught red handed, I suggest you give up now and get things over with." Before she could get close to the man he was already out of sight. The sun’s heat beat against Vanemar as he began to descend with quick, long jumps. Looking up, the woman glared at him in frustration which only made him move quicker. "Get him already!" She shouted below. Looking down, he saw one of the guards run toward the spot where he would land. Vanemar clenched his teeth, he would have to give up his hook. Looking back up, his heart jumped as he saw the woman swinging her weapon into the rope, cleanly slicing it in two. He gasped, he knew he wouldn't die from the height, but the drop wouldn't show him any mercy. Deciding to take a chance, he aimed his legs for the guard, propelling them into his helm and sending them both tumbling. As the guard shook his head dizzily Vanemar was already back on his feet and running. With his body scraped and his clothing torn he ran with his heart beating quicker after each second. Barely any thoughts passed through his mind as his instincts took over his movements. Across the courtyard the two guards that had been in front of the gates had noticed him. Closing it behind them as they entered, they approached Vanemar with polearms forward. He waited for them to start rounding opposite ends of the fountain before he ran. There was no other exit besides the gate, he would have to be very quick. Running on the edge of the fountain, he jumped towards the end closest to the gate. A spear was thrusted but managed to only catch air as he landed back down on the stone floor. He ran with all his might towards the gate, the guards yelled as they gave chase. They were too slow, he had already undone the lock before he could reach him. As he retreated into the large crowds, Vanemar gave out a nervous chuckle. The embassy guards could go no further and the woman would not be able to catch up with him. Sweat was pouring down his face like rainfall, he’d rather be stabbed than in this situation. "They know my name." He thought as a blanket of despair fell upon his mind. "I have to get out of here, go somewhere else." He vaguely knew his next action, but would have to get his things and leave. He didn’t know where he would go but it didn’t matter, It would not be long before everyone in the city knew his name.

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Vanemar barged through the wooden doors of a packed tavern. The voices inside were loud enough to cover the sound of the door being slammed up by an anxiety ridden Vanemar. Inside, not a single table was left without someone indulging in alcohol. It was mid-sun, immediately after the hour of work when men and women came to drown their worries away. Vanemar wished he could join them but instead he was almost running across the room. A pair of entertainers played a tune on the flute and fiddle on a small stage, quick and lively but too much for Vanemar to bear. Vanemar listened for a moment before running up the staircase to the right of the counter. He dashed down the halls and hurriedly entered his room. Blinding stuffing what was left in the room into his pack, the man then quickly looked around before running right back out. He nearly tripped down the stairs and onto the counter.

"Evening fellow man." The owner said with a smile as Vanemar slammed his room key onto the counter. “Leaving early?” The man said with a bit of worry.

"Something came up." Vanemar answered as he leaned in closer and began to whisper. "If someone asks if I was here, tell them that-" The room suddenly grew silent. Vanemar turned his head to look as the owner glanced over his shoulder. A group of Honean soldiers covered in head to toe in plate armor had just entered the room. On their chestplates was a dark green engraving of a snake in the shape of an S. "The Shields!" Vanemar thought fearfully. He could think of no other reason why the protectors of the Arch Duke himself had entered the room besides himself. Realizing that they had yet to see him, Vanemar quickly turned around and sprinted back up the stairs. He knew they had seen him, their thundering footsteps were a great indication. 

Grabbing the door handle to his room, he froze for a moment as he realized he no longer had a key. He immediately looked left. The second floor was a single hallway ending at a window. As the sounds of the Shield’s thundering boots came from below, he sprinted towards the window with all of his energy. Reaching for the extra hook he had kept in his pack, he slammed it against the glass until it shattered. From behind the soldiers began to charge, intending to run him through with the tips of their halberds. He pulled the trick that he used at the embassy to get down. A crowd of onlookers had already gathered below, likely brought by the arrival of the Shields. "Get out of my way!" He yelled at them in frustration, unsheathing his weapon in a feeble attempt to scare them. They quickly scattered but not because of his sword. Above him a Shield halfway out of the window aimed their crossbow right at his head. He pushed himself off the wall and turned away, throwing himself in a random direction. It wasn’t high enough to hurt but it was enough to make his stomach churn. The crowd parted away from his point of contact. Immediately going into a roll, the rock laid streets filled his body with mild pain. The twang of a bolt colliding into the ground sounded near him, making his eyes slam shut out of fear. Realizing that he still had time, he pulled the rope of his grappling hook and brought it down into the crowd. They jumped out of the way as he began to pull it toward him. It had not even reached him halfway when the soldier had begun to pull back the bow’s string. The man had eyes trained right on Vanemar who knew he would be dead if he didn’t get out of the way. He froze up for a moment before sprinting towards the grappling hook. The man lifted his crossbow and aimed. Vanemar gritted his teeth as the bolt was fired. Another twang was heard but no blood was spilt. Vanemar had managed to jump into the crowd as soon as the bolt flew toward him. As the tavern door was thrown open by a group of angry soldiers, the assassin had disappeared.