He let one tear fall quietly down his cheek. He couldn't let two tears fall. His training wouldn't allow it. The man rubbed a fading scar that ran across his cheek in remembrance. His legs ached, and his heart raced. He had been crouching on top of the concrete pillar for hours as he watched the world move below him. Women and children were checking out the wares of the merchants lined against the main street.
He crouched in the shadows. He was high enough not to be seen by anybody in the crowd. The man felt for his daggers on his waist and his broadsword strapped to his back to reassure himself his weapons were still with him. A few sparrows landed next to him, but he cut them down with a swift slice of his dagger before they could talk and give away his position. Not once did his dark eyes stop watching the movements of the crowd.
Dark storm clouds swayed overhead as small drops of water cascaded down the man's grey hood. His blue hair was hidden behind the hood. His black pants hugged the outside of the man's black boots as his toes twitched to keep from going numb. A red long sleeve hugged his muscular build. The man was losing patience.
He watched as a man entered a building below him and he quickly followed. Scaling down the side of the pillar, using the nooks in the concrete as hand holds, he scurried to a door that was cast in shadow by the dark alley.
The withdrawal of his lock pick felt as natural as breathing to the man as he unlocked the door with ease and quietly entered. Shouting and laughter quickly filled the air around him as he crept to a shadowy corner between the bar and an abandoned table.
The stench of old ale and dried vomit told him exactly where he was. The Shady Den had a reputation for being the most rundown tavern in Calgarra but still patrons flocked to it for cheap drinks and even cheaper tricks.
The old wooden beams that held the Shady Den together groaned and swayed in the storm that fully raged outside. Patrons found themselves staying inside longer and tossing more coin at the barkeeper as the vacant space started to shrink in the tavern.
He watched two patrons who were too inebriated to stand but they both attempted it at the same time and crashed into each other. The first man who fell into the second man was portly with an ugly face while the second man was skinny as his pale face started to bleed from a cut on his forehead.
"What is your problem," the first man said to the other man as they both picked themselves up the floor.
"You took me down," the second man put his face in the other man's face.
"That's bold of you to say," the ugly man countered the second man as he shoved him aside. "Let me aside."
The pale man pushed his chest forward trying to be intimidating but again the ugly man attempted to side step his annoyance. The second man didn't give up as he pushed the first man into the bar.
The man's weight and his inability to keep his balance caused him to crash into the bar. Barstools splintered as patrons yelled and tried to scramble out of the way. The first man stayed on the ground as blood pooled around him.
Yelling and cursing filled the atmosphere as liquor bottles and wooden tables flew across the tavern as bodies fell in front of him. He shook his head as he scanned the Shady Den for his target. His eyes widened as he realized he was missing.
His legs shook as the blood rushed back through them. He jumped over fallen bodies and pools of blood as he made his way out the tavern. His red eyes scanned the horizon as he sloshed through the puddles and struggled to see through the whipping rain.
He checked the alley around the back of the Shady Den where he ran into rats and garbage. He couldn't afford to waste any more time.
The man closed his eyes and let the rain fall around him. He felt energy rise through him as he concentrated on his target. When he opened his eyes, the world around him stopped. The rain stopped falling. The yelling and fighting in the tavern quieted. The merchants halted their yelling and the movements of the crowd froze.
He could see the energy of the world flow around him as green and blue strings of light filled the atmosphere. His right eye turned black as he scanned the city around him. The city of Calgarra didn't look rundown while the figure used his Concentration. It actually looked livable and peaceful instead of being filled with the murders and theft that plagued Calgarra every night.
His black eye flinched as it caught hold of his target. He was only a couple hundred yards in front of him on the other side of some collapsing merchant stands. A man in his middle age who weaved in and out of the crowd. His eyes desperately glancing around him as he pushed his way through the thickening crowd.
The man shut down his Concentration and leapt out of the shadows. His hood hugged his face so only his red eyes shone at his target. He withdrew two daggers from his belt and lodged them deep into his target's shoulders. The man flew backwards and landed on his feet while he watched his target struggle to free the daggers from his shoulders.
The target screamed in pain as onlookers stood and watched in silence and shock. The target finally freed the blades from the meat of his shoulders and threw them to the ground. The daggers bounced effortlessly against the bedrock ground.
"Going somewhere Dante?" The man asked calmly.
"Who's there?" Fear flashed across Dante's eyes. "I demand that you show yourself?"
Dante was greeted by a laugh and the assassin stepped in front of him. "Oh, so you think you are tough is that it?"
"I don't know who you are but I have power and I know people in power," Dante slowly got to his feet.
The assassin kicked his target as the force of his kick knocked Dante back a few feet. "You really have no idea why I am here?"
"You are just another low life thief," Dante gasped for air while he looked up at his assassin. "I will not give you money."
"I am hurt by your words Dante," the man mocked his target. "You think me as some low life thief but tell me can a low life do this."
The man unsheathed his broadsword and sliced off Dante's right arm in the same breath and laughed as his target's screams filled the air.
"What do you want?" Fear filled Dante's eyes as he clutched the bloody stump under his shoulder.
"Now you fear me?" The assassin slung Dante's detached arm at the man. "Surely you are better than that Dante. I want you to think about who would want you dead."
"D..dead?" Dante tried to scamper away from the man but he pinned his target down as his broadsword pierced Dante's pants.
"Quit playing games Dante," the assassin crouched down to eye level. "I know you what you have been doing."
"I don't know what you are talking about. Please let me go."
"You are telling me that all that money you gave the Black Vices didn't come from your company," the man was losing patience as he paced near the frightened Dante. "You have been funding their operations."
"T..th..that's," Dante took a breath. "Okay that is true but you have to understand that I just recently found out about what their operation was and I immediately stopped funding them."
"Say what you want but you gave them more than enough money for them to continue their operation for years," the assassin withdrew his daggers from his waistband. "For that I am afraid you are wanted dead."
"No please!" Dante screamed but it didn't help as his left leg was sawed off. Immediately blood poured out of the stump as he vomited and fell to his back.
Finger by finger, the assassin tortured his target with a smile on his face. "Oh, by the way," the man said after every finger was cut off, "we will find the other companies who have funded the Black Vices and they will get the same fate as you.
"Who are you?" Dante asked before his eyes gave way to the darkness.
The assassin smiled at the work he had accomplished. He walked over Dante's cut up body and made his way down the street. He shivered as the rain continued to pelt him as each step he took water splashed from the puddles.
The little light that radiated from the street lights and the moon hidden by the dark storm clouds made the city around him dark and quiet. The crowd dispersed quickly as the man made his way through them. The rain came down heavier as the puddle of blood drained through the cracks in the bedrock.
The man made his way through the merchant filled main street as his dark grey eyes twitched from person to person. Women hid their children when he passed them. He paid them no heed as he kept his eyes forward.
He made his way to the end of the main street where the courtyard stood in front of him. Fewer people walked this part of town but still the man kept his eyes forward. Toward his destination.
His destination stood a few paces in front of him. A wooden dock swayed in the waves as the rain pelted him harder than before. The dock was as wide as he was and buckled against his weight as his boots sank into the ocean water.
A man stood on the dock watching the waves crash around him. He shivered as the rain started to fall harder. He turned around when he heard boots splashing behind him.
"I take it you assassinated the target," his deep voice spoke to his visitor. "I have been waiting for four long hours for you to walk onto this piece of wood."
"You want the job done then you will wait for as long as it takes me to complete the assignment Bytan." There was a hint of annoyance in his answer.
"I wouldn't mind if it wasn't so blasted cold out here," Bytan shivered again as he walked off the dock. "Let's head out of here Karth."
"After you," Karth motioned for Bytan to lead as they sprinted off the wooden dark and back into the shadows.