The sound of chains dragging behind him was the only sound he decided to pay his attention towards. He couldn't stand the cries of the surrounding people.
He had to admit; the trap they had sprung upon him was quite the clever trick. Creating the rumor of a scantly defended cart full of King Johns most prized treasures and spreading it around through the regions of which he traveled most commonly was bound to catch his attention.
It was the dead of night when he made his move. There were only three guards that he saw camping outside the cart. He readied his crossbow and waited for one to make a move that would allow him to stealth fully eliminate them.
He had been taught patience from a young age, and therefore he sat still for hours, waiting for the opportunity to strike. Until one of the guards had finally gotten up and left the others, most likely to go take a piss.
That was when he struck.
The fling of the release and subsequent rubber banding of his weapons string quietly filled his ears. And the projectile, having been drugged with the toxin of an asp from the middle east, shot through the air, landing itself directly into a guard's trachea. He had hit dead on, as expected.
He was a master with any thrown object, able to hit an apple on top of someone's head from dozens, if not hundreds, of meters away. A quick anecdote of him having thrown a blade into a small opening to open a noble's castle gates flashed through his mind.
The guard made a small grunt, and tried to let out a noise, yet found no air coming up from his throat. The guards' eyes widened, and then he found his vision starting to cloud, and the pain that had shot into his throat rapidly start to spread throughout his body.
He made a desperate attempt to get one of the others to acknowledge his situation. Yet as he reached his hand out to grab the man turned away from him, another sharp pain erupted into his brain, and his world went dark.
A grunt of discomfort pierced through the guards' assassins' mind, he had rather not have used another projectile on one man, especially not one who didn't deserve to die like he had. In fact, had he had a choice, he'd rather not kill any of the guards that he'd come across, they were only doing their jobs.
It was for the greater good, he consoled himself, and quickly gave a small prayer for the man, it was the least he could do. He then brought his mind back to his mission; he put away his crossbow and took out a small dagger held on his belt.
He quietly moved himself out from his vantage point, moving in a sideways positioning as to not be sighted should the other guard turn around before he can strike.
He got up into the branches of a nearby tree and held his dagger in his right hand. And then, he waited, until…
The guard turned around and finally noticed his compatriot slumped onto the ground. Looking at the darts that had been shot into the man's throat and his skull. He quickly found the trajectory and looked over to the sight, not seeing anything there.
Then a sharp pain slid across the guards back, and a warm feeling slowly started to slide down his back. The guard quickly turned around, bringing up his sword to meet the assailant, who blocked the blade with his dagger.
Sparks flew from the weapons impact, and the guard saw the mans face. He had a brown hood, covering his hair and head, alongside a piece of black fabric covering his mouth and nose. He had bright, almost glowing green eyes that seemed to pierce straight into his soul.
In the revelation of seeing the legendary thief's face, the guard made one singular blunder. He made a small step back in shock, the thief noticed the move and quickly put a jolt of force into his hand holding his dagger, sending the guards arm up. He then dropped himself to the ground and slid his leg, sweeping the ground and tripping the now unstable guard.
The guards back hit the ground with a heavy thud, and his hands had lost their strength, causing him to release the sword he had been holding. The thief then quickly got on top of his opponent, and brought down his blade into the man's chest, stabbing into his lungs.
Blood flooded into his lungs, and the guard found himself struggling to breathe, he tried anything to get away from his assailant, but he held his throat and started to squeeze. The strikes onto the thief's arms got weaker, faster, and more desperate, and after each one he would squeeze harder, until they finally stopped.
The attacker stood up, heavily breathing. He really hated this part of his work.
Finally, he made his way to the cart, he ripped open the curtain hiding the treasures within.
Except there were no treasures to be found within. Instead, he found himself face to face with four armed guards pointing crossbows at him.
Alarmed, he shot his body to the ground as he heard the Thwhip of the shot arrows rush over his head. He rolled to his side to get out of the guard's eyesight and pulled out his own crossbow. One guard was too hasty and left the cart without the protection of an ally. An arrow soon met his brain.
The thief quickly decided to abandon his mission, and turned to run, but then saw the face of the first guard, whose departure had been his signal to strike. The one guard wasn't his concern, instead it was the legion he had brought with him.
The thief found himself surrounded by enemies, he couldn't decide who to shoot. Then the final guards left the cart and came up behind him. With a sigh the thief dropped his crossbow and held his hands in the sky in defeat.
That was how he was caught, and he felt a large amount of anger towards his actions, he wasn't careful, he had gotten too cocky, but hindsight wouldn't save him now.
Both his legs were chained together, as to restrain his movement. His hands were tied as well, while also being thoroughly watched by guards behind him. He saw no way of getting out of this predicament, this would be where his story would end.
He was escorted to his place, and the noose was put around his neck, he was to be publicly hung as a message to the people.
He looked over to the mass that had come to watch his execution. Word must have spread far, as he could barely make out the end of the clump of people that had shown up. Guards held back a group of men who protested his death at the front of the mass, there were children with tears staining their eyes, and women who merely stood silently.
The thief looked to the ground and quickly flashed throughout his life.
He let out a chuckle, "Guess that damned king can finally sleep peacefully." He muttered, only the executioner heard his words.
That same executioner then quietly moved towards him and whispered the last words he would ever hear. "I looked up to you truthfully, I'm sorry." Before stepping back, and with the most minute hesitation, pulled the lever, dropping the thief to be hung and die.
That was the death of Robin Hood.