Liquid Brown eyes, Brown eyes always staring into the distance, never to focus again. Always haunting, always accusing, “why?” those eyes seemed to ask. “why did you give me over to these monsters?”
A few days ago he had stumbled across a young woman, Hair was fair, and skin still looked delicate, so out of place in the brushes on the side of the road. The smell of death was what lead him to her, with her dress tattered and body slightly mangled from the fight. The sight had brought about the nightmares with a vengeance, even in the day he would have them, tormenting him and driving him mad. He had to focus on his task, he had a mark to take out.
A passerby hollering brought him from his thoughts; Days on the hunt left him exhausted. The anger burned inside of him still, rage that fueled an unending race to rid himself of these nightmares. He glanced around and found himself still across from the inn; the man’s horse was still at the stables so he knew he hadn’t missed him.
Nothing about the inn had changed, except for the amount of foot traffic in the streets. That wouldn’t matter, he wasn’t about to cause a scene. The man was still inside the inn, probably finishing some other business that lords needed to do. With luck he saw the Mark step out into the street, and start walking away from his position. Standing Dehimage stretched his back out from sitting all night, and glanced into a window, looking to make sure his livery was in order. He looked as if he were just a messenger, someone who could walk in and out and get away quietly. The letter he was carrying was blank, but the seal had a slow acting poison that would quietly and painfully kill whoever touched it.
Dehimage quickly caught up to the man just as the sun began setting, the failing light would help cover any features that he had failed to cover on himself. The man had acquired a few rough looking men as a body guard, but they were guarding the wrong threat. “My lord,” Dehimage called out, causing a loud clanging as his troop unceremoniously drew swords.
“Fools, Lower your weapons,” The Lord smacked one in the back of his head with his cane, then another trying to get out of the ring of steel. “Buffoons. Now young man, what is it you needed?” He stopped just out of arms reach from Dehimage and placed his hands one over the other on his cane. A small seam ran around the outer edge, just below the decoration, told him that he was prepared to draw the hidden blade just in case.
“Only a letter my Lord,” he said digging into his messenger pouch, making it seem as if there were more than one in there, pulling it out and examining it he then held it out.
“Who, sent it?” he didn’t take the letter.
“She didn’t say her name, my Lord, only your description and said it was of upmost importance.” Dehimage had prepared for a few questions thinking that it was going to be harder to make him belive but he must have been expecting news from someone because he took it and ripped it open.
“Is this some kind of joke? Its blank.” He held out the letter to make his point.
Looking befuddled he took the letter back and examined it himself, “my apologies sir but she said it was important.” He stuffed the letter back into his pouch so he could get rid of the poison later, he didn’t want it to get on any one else and have them get hurt for no reason. A gurgling sound made him look up. The man had his hand around his throat as if he couldn’t breathe. His hand had already begun swelling up, foam started coming from his mouth and he had begun to shake uncontrollably. Every one stepped back from him as if he had something catching. It figured the man had to be allergic to the poison. He dropped to his knees and then fell over, dead before his face hit the ground.
Before he could try to escape the four guards decided to finally do their job and brought their swords at him. Having never fought with swords Dehimage didn’t know if they had skill or not, so the best way was to finish it fast. He rolled his shoulders to check the blades there, rolled his foot for the one there and pulled the two in each sleeve, he threw those and the landed in the throat of the two in front before they could take a step. The other two stepped over and charged at him crouching he drew the blade from his boot and rolled into the first man stabbing the man in the back of the leg bringing him down heavily and took the opening it caused into the last man. He seemed to be waiting for it and backhanded Dehimage away, causing him a busted lip and it felt like his jaw broke into a hundred pieces. He stood dizzy and disoriented but still alive, shaking his head he cleared his vision enough to see the sword flying to his face. He quickly dropped and kicked the man in the chest forcing him back and into the wall. Taking the opportunity to draw his blades from his back he grabbed one by the blade and tossed it with precision into the man’s bull of a neck.
The fight finished, Dehimage checked his wounds, his jaw wasn’t broken, but it would heal funny if he didn’t get it set soon, he was losing blood too. The man’s sword and gotten him in the arm and he hadn’t realized it.
Edited by ConQuest, 17 July 2011 - 12:35 PM.