Sneaky bastards, the lot of them
Tis but a scratch, send the guards and make sure they capture that joke of an assassin
More than one convoy crossing the Southwest, traveling through the Republic of Texas and Rocky Mountain Republic has found themselves in the crosshairs of a heavy black transfer truck and it's deranged driver.
You should probably get ready for some trouble...
"Me? Oh, I’m no one of importance. Say, where are you folk heading? Really? Might I tag along for safety’s sake? I have business there…"
A curious dagger, with a blade stained by ancient gore; it has seen many dark deeds, yet goes unsuspected as more than some old piece of junk.
30 Assassins, both great and pathetic. - Die, by our hands…
What we need is an alternative to hiring mages that are good enough to deal with the Guild’s mages.
“That’s got be the worst assassin I’ve ever seen.”
Death is an art form. Where can a single act that is repeated by every single life at least once in their lifetime and have multiple emotions involved in each one. I relate this in a similar manner as a dramatic play. You look into the audience at the height of the emotional act and you see ranges of emotion from everyone. I experience this every time I watch the eyes of a guasto widen and become cold to look at. You should witness this yourself, to understand your own immortality and how to overcome it. Look into the mirror as your life trickles away and the truth will be revealed.
- Janus Sanguine High Priest of the Jongleurs Sanguine
Assassins are always there to be had, for a price. Sometimes, those wishing to hire assassins for very little find their way to the Thrillkill Society.
Once a ‘stew-plate’ assassin, Bren Bloodblade has come up swiftly in the underworld, his talents genuinely disturbing to the powers that be…
“Sigh. Another mysterious, highly skilled assassin, with a difficult child hood and black clothes. Oh. This one has knives in his belt, not his boot. Well, at least it is not a Drow. ”
the Khalif’s favorite assasin…a master killer who follows only one self-imposed rule…he refuses to kill…
“Inn keeper, your best all around” hollared the newcomer jovefully; tossing gold onto the counter, “and for you bard” tossing him a small purse, “some lessons” he added with a wink and a laugh.
When the sheriff entered the inn the next day, he found a carnal house, with patrons either on the ground with green foam runnig from thier mouths or cut to pieces. 11 dead, and someone had sport with the barmaid before killing her.
Tomais Reives is always quick with a smile or a joke or to buy the next round. He dresses expensively with a lot of flash and always seems to be the life of the party.
He its like by almost everyone, he has only one little flaw; He likes to kill; a lot.
If he did it for some master, or for some dark, it might be better.
He just does it because be can.
“Ever in my hand, lies the Blade of the Mad. It’s straight, simple craft is so alluring to me… It drives me to evil, but I love what it does. For the first blood the blade tasted was that of a human.”
The Mad Pope is a wandering mercenary. He is very well deranged as he considers himself to be the pontiff of the dominant faith. His robes are tattered, his mitre has seen better days and there are surely lice in his long ratty beard. What sets him apart from most addle-pated would be holy men is that he has armor under his robes and carries a large crossbow and several one-handed swords. While many would discout him as just another lunatic, for some reason, he inspires others around him and has demonstrated the ability to lay on hands and heal the wounded.