"Regis Shadeborn. Former first dagger. Top of my class. The Herdial elite were my clients. Governors bribed me for safety. I performed the greatest heists of the time."
The assassin shakes the vial of liquid in his hand. Three layers of black cloth tight wrappings hide the glass.
Pop, he flicked off the cork with his thumb. A smell akin to that of gunpowder mixed with rotten fish escapes the vial.
With a sudden lift of his head, he emptied the fluid down his throat.
It burns. He swallowed his saliva to push the residue stuck to his throat.
It still burns, but he's already used to it.
"The black market potion. It still hurts like hell even after so many vials. Hurts even more after the effects had worn off. Packs a punch though, that's all that matters."
He took out a stick and lit it with a single match struck against the armour on his gauntlets.
The light barely glowed for a second before the well drilled assassin snuffed out the flame.
He took a puff, sitting in a relaxed pose leaning against the stone behind him as the potion slowly took effect.
Puff* He took out a sealed envelope from his pocket and unfolded it in front of him.
Sneak into the RazenHeir compound located on the middle upper floors. Our informant on the inside confirmed that the target is live. The ace RazenHeir knight has left the compound. You are clear to proceed.
Crumbling the paper with his fist, he stabbed it with his acid tipped dagger. The paper dissolved into dust.
"Fuck.. this is the second posting this month to steal women's lingerie. What has my life come to?"
The swiveled stick offered him its last puff.
He smothered the butt onto the stone surface and tossed it over the ledge.
He lights up the next one.
"Avlivia of lindenpures! The flowers she is presenting tonight blooms only once every few festivals. It has shades of a unique bluish violet color against a backdrop of pristine white petals. The alchemical value of the flower could fetch as much as a full horse on the Herdial exchange!"
The towncrier announced. A beautiful woman in festive robes and a beautiful flower necklace cat walked to the fore of the stage.
Rowdy cheers from the crowd followed by roses thrown on to the stage by the enthusiastic spectators as she took a suggestive pose before them.
Several stage hands scrambled to collect the roses, counting them as they were collected into baskets.
"A hundred and sixteen roses! The night never ceases to bring new surprises!"
The assassin took another puff of his new stick.
"Geez, Those roses they are throwing, half a gold piece each? Crazy how much people spend on a contest of cup sizes."
He took another puff.
"Next up! Our youngest flower of the night! Freshly bloomed in a neighborhood nearby! A round of applause!"
A slender figure emerged from the curtains. Red hair , blue eyes. Her fair skin glowed in the warm light. Confidently, she walked to the fore of the stage, lifted her skirt by the tips and executed a graceful bow.
She was met with silence and chatter. Single awkwardly space claps from a young boy sitting in the audience. A lone rose was tossed towards the stage in a high arc, landing by itself on the bare stone.
The assassin takes another puff.
"Damn.. that girl doesn't look half bad. Too bad she's lacking the cup size. "
Puff*.
"Sheesh, maybe I'm getting old. I had been attending every one of these stupide shows of late."
The stick had run out. His last puff was nothing but burnt hay.
As he took out another stick, the crowd suddenly got excited.
"Oh ho! Looks like the crowd knows what's coming! Without further ado! The one! And only! Sh- oof!" A heavy sandal flew out of the curtains and knocked the towncrier off the stage.
Several stage helpers rushed some first aid and carried him away.
A pause.
A imposing figure appeared from behind the curtains. Tanned skin. Toned muscles. Short hair.
She reached the front of the stage. Arms folded. Standing with legs shoulder width apart.
A shower of flowers came flying in. Loud rowdy cheers from the crowd filled the space.
The sand bender stood there with an annoyed blank expression which seemed to draw even more cheers.
Having had enough, she turned around and quickly strided back behind the stage.
Puff*.
"Damn… so that's the vaulted princess of Escher. Turned down all contracts targeting her. Impossible i tell ya. Rarely shows her face in public. Suicide to fight her head on. My dagger certainly can't pierce her sand barrier."
Puff*
"Good thing I took double dose Hortifern. I hate to wet my suit just before a heist like those old farts in the audience. The black market stuff can be a little inconsistent though."
The roses were still being thrown. The crowd was groaning in disappointment. They began chanting the sand bender's name.
A big sandal flew out of the curtain slit, knocking an audience member off his bench. A mob piled onto him.
Puff*. The stick was running low again. The assassin lit another one.
"Well. Now that's an eye opener. Last stick for me. Potion's kicking in. Let's just get the night over with."
Gradually, the chatter died down. People were starting to leave their seats. The towncrier staggered back onto the stage pressing an ice pack against his temple.
"Ah… Thank you! Thank you! It has been a great night! This has been the-"
A stagehand rushed up to him and whispered something into his ear.
"Ah! It appears that we have one more blooming flower that has yet to have her time!"
The towncrier fumbled as he unfolded his script. He paused.
The crowd continued to leave and chatter.
"Ahem! The heroine herself! The wyvern bane! The monolithic beauty that rocked the grand house of Moradale!"
The curtains opened. An immense figure strided with ease to the fore of the stage. The silver hair fluttered in the moonlight glowing through the hole at the top of the fortress.
She opened her eyes. A piercing ruby glow.
A gust of strong wind. Her loose dress and flowers fluttered.
She raised one arm and flicked her silvery side burn.
There was dead silence.
The crowd stopped in their tracks.
The stick dropped from the assassin's mouth after barely a single puff.
Hands on her hips. She put one foot forward. The skin on her thighs as her leg emerged from the slit vertically down her dress.
Dead silence.
All at once, the crowd roared. A wave of roses as the audience emptied the last of their baskets.
"F**k.."
The assassin gave himself a slap across his face.
He swept the ground with his hand, looking for the stick he dropped.
"What the heck was that? Some kind of ghost?"
He tried to stand up but had a funny feeling on his hips.
"Sh*t, what happened."
He realised that he had a bulge which had made a wet mess.
It felt slimy. His suit felt extremely tight as it forcefully contained the protrusion.
"I gotta run.."
Scrambling for his grapple, he hurled it in a random direction without aiming. The resulting arc caused him to crash into a stone beam and fall into a parapet atop a stall on the street below.
He shrugged off the fall and quickly darted into a nearby alleyway as guards closed in to check on the commotion.
Images kept flashing through his mind. The bulge was still there. He uncorked a vial strapped onto his suit and downed its contents.
A potion that counteracts mind effects.
It didn't work.
"F**k! I have been cursed. I heard of some arousal spells peddled in Herdial. F**k! F**- [Ivory berries] . How did I run into it here? [Ivory berries] my [Ivory berries]. [Ivory berries]"
~~~~ We are experiencing technical difficulties ~~~~
With a vertical leap, the assassin landed up a full story. The boosting effects of the potion had kicked in.
He dashed straight across the street just behind a patrol of hearthstone keepers, startling them. But before they could react, the shadow was gone.
Thud! He rammed face first into a wall.
"[Ivory berries]! F**k** [Ivory berries]. What the [Ivory berries]. [Ivory berries]!"
He recovered quickly and leapt up the wall before the guard patrol could come and investigate.
His nose was bleeding. He hid on a rooftop to dress his wounds. The bandage had a faint unpleasant smell that was used to mask the scent of blood.
"Ok. ok. Get it together. This is just another silly heist from a client that has too much gold. I always take the highest bounty on the board. That's my motto. Tonight is no different. Women's Lingerie can't possibly be that well guarded. Let's just get it done and over with."
He shot his grapple onto a pillar covered in vines and pulled himself onto it.
His movements were more like a wild beast rather than the measured and quiet shadow he was moments ago. The slimy, shaking feeling on his hips rattled his judgement.
He stopped atop a tower.
Opposite him, two streets away on an elevated structure stood the RazenHeir compound.
A pair of knights and a handleful of conscripts guard the rising platform leading upwards to the compound.
Three concentric rings of defenses.
Walls of stones up higher than golems.
Hardening enchantments all round that would withstand blasts from a battery of cannons.
Dozens of RazenHeir scouts and hearthstone keepers roam the area.
Crystal lanterns illuminate the area, leaving only thin slithers of shadow.
At the very apex, a white triangular cloth glisters in the moonlight, fluttering in the wind. A thin slit of red stain in the middle.
The assassin paused. From his pocket he took out his last stick and lit it.
He sat down and puffed.