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Episode One:
The three waited in relative silence. They stood in the old warrior's cemetary south of Brown's Village. The region hadn't seen tru blood shed in almost a century, not since the Lazarian invasion. Then, thousands had fallen in their attempt to keep the waves of dragonmen at bay. It was isolated and private. the perfect place for a rondezous. The perfect place for a Murder.
Blight and Laughing Jack watched the surroundings for any telltale signs of the second team. They whispered to one another as to the strangeness of this mission. A team of three assassins, crows, was sufficient to handle any mark whether a rich man or a poor man, a merchant or a general. Yet the Grand Masters insisted that two teams be sent. Six of the highest skilled killers the world had ever seen. Yet that wasn't enough. The Murder would be led by no less than a Raven, one of the guild's elite. This was enough to make even the hardened killers wary. Even Brookes, usually quiet until the action started, added a couple of discontent grunts to the conversation.
They'd been waiting for almost 30 minutes when they sensed death approaching. Each Crow from lowly apprentice to the Grand Masters themselves are branded with a tattoo made of magic and alchemy. These marks resembled the birds that the guild took it name from and each one had the special ability to sense one another. The tattoos worn by the three men began to flap like birds on the wing and out of the surrounding wood came three more figures. The largest a Lazarian brute that bore the marks of intense physical training, the smallest was a nondescript woman brandishing the holy symbol of Corvinous, and behind the two stalked a darkskinned man with faintly red eyes dressed in all black. Brookes jumped to his feet as the new group drew closer.
The assassins studied each other.
The Lazarian's name was Sunderer and the woman was his partner R'aven. She was one of few words and he had a presence that was hard to ignore. The guild held no official stance in regards to the Dragonmen from the southern continent of Bethany but fro reason unknown there were only two Lazarians ever to be allowed in their circle. His size and body language spoke volumes about his particular style of killing. Like brooks he was like a battering ram to the head, no guile no subterfuge just destruction. There were very few teams that comprised such warriors. This particular Murder had two. The dark man's name was Night Stalker, The Raven
...To be continued by someone else
The three waited in relative silence. They stood in the old warrior's cemetary south of Brown's Village. The region hadn't seen tru blood shed in almost a century, not since the Lazarian invasion. Then, thousands had fallen in their attempt to keep the waves of dragonmen at bay. It was isolated and private. the perfect place for a rondezous. The perfect place for a Murder.
Blight and Laughing Jack watched the surroundings for any telltale signs of the second team. They whispered to one another as to the strangeness of this mission. A team of three assassins, crows, was sufficient to handle any mark whether a rich man or a poor man, a merchant or a general. Yet the Grand Masters insisted that two teams be sent. Six of the highest skilled killers the world had ever seen. Yet that wasn't enough. The Murder would be led by no less than a Raven, one of the guild's elite. This was enough to make even the hardened killers wary. Even Brookes, usually quiet until the action started, added a couple of discontent grunts to the conversation.
They'd been waiting for almost 30 minutes when they sensed death approaching. Each Crow from lowly apprentice to the Grand Masters themselves are branded with a tattoo made of magic and alchemy. These marks resembled the birds that the guild took it name from and each one had the special ability to sense one another. The tattoos worn by the three men began to flap like birds on the wing and out of the surrounding wood came three more figures. The largest a Lazarian brute that bore the marks of intense physical training, the smallest was a nondescript woman brandishing the holy symbol of Corvinous, and behind the two stalked a darkskinned man with faintly red eyes dressed in all black. Brookes jumped to his feet as the new group drew closer.
The assassins studied each other.
The Lazarian's name was Sunderer and the woman was his partner R'aven. She was one of few words and he had a presence that was hard to ignore. The guild held no official stance in regards to the Dragonmen from the southern continent of Bethany but fro reason unknown there were only two Lazarians ever to be allowed in their circle. His size and body language spoke volumes about his particular style of killing. Like brooks he was like a battering ram to the head, no guile no subterfuge just destruction. There were very few teams that comprised such warriors. This particular Murder had two. The dark man's name was Night Stalker, The Raven
...To be continued by someone else
