Snippet #2154910

Raynan had stuck with the other Crows only out of necessity during his journey south toward Ostagar. He loathed the constant chatter that the other men kept up. He hated constantly being surrounded by other people. There was no peace. Unless he was on watch. He always chose to take watch during the longest part of the night, for it was always the most peaceful. That was the only time he ever had to think. He would slip away from the campfire into the darkness, where he'd make his rounds. It wasn't that a group of travelers such as these Antivan Crows would be in any particular danger, but there were always bandits and thieves to look out for. Ferelden was a horrible, dirty country that only the lowest of the low lived in. They simply couldn't be trusted to not lift a purse or steal goods if they were to come across this group of well-armed assassins. Of course, it would probably be the last thing they'd ever do in their lives, but still.

But now, they had finally made it to their destination. Some odd side road a ways south of Lothering. Lothering, they figured, was likely to be the first town any surviving Grey Wardens would shamble up to, and this is where they would wait. Raynan, however, had separated himself almost immediately from the group, beginning a sort of challenge among the five assassins. He situated himself in the forest even further south, just off the road. The road was somewhat busy, with surviving Templars and their mages, soldiers, and most pleasantly, a smattering of Grey Wardens. He'd actually seen two Wardens pass by his spot during a particular lull in the traffic, one aiding the other as they struggled to continue to a supposed place of safety. They had never seen him coming. He'd slipped up behind them and, with a dagger in each hand, had slit their throats. Before they could bleed out too much on the trail, he had quickly hoisted the dead bodies, one at a time, over his shoulder and further into the brush so they would be out of sight and out of mind… At least for a day or two.

Once the bodies were well enough hidden, Raynan went back out to the road and kicked at the dirt with the sole of his soft leather boot, smearing the blood that had leaked into the soil as best he could. Then, upon the sound of more movement on the other side of the little hill he was behind, he slipped back into the brush once more, pulling the hood of his cloak up over his head and merging with the shadows. He crouched down, eyes on the road to the south as he waited for his next victims to stumble their way out of the bloody slaughter that was Ostagar and into his little web.