Snippet #2469269

"I suppose I did cheat him." Bilal muttered to himself as the fearful guards flanked him on both sides. One guard hit Bilal in the stomach and he crumpled over and wheezed. They then began dragging him to the stairs, which was the only area that could possibly be used as a chopping block. Bilal was going to lose his hand. He wondered which one the guards would choose considering that the hand used to steal is the hand meant to be cut off, maybe both? Though in reality they are supposed to give Bilal a chance to repent to god and if he did then they would have to let him go. He shook his head clearing his mind, preparing for the loss of a hand. He is an assassin it wouldn't be that big of a deal really to loose one hand.

The shining blade of Ayam's fury was about to fall on his right hand, when suddenly a witch burst in and killed the woman by the chief after a short argument. The guards holding him immediately let go of him and charged forward ready to try and contain the revolt. Grateful to have it, Bilal used his right hand to push himself up.

He stepped away from the skirmish going on around him. The shadows beckoned to him, how could he resist? He stepped into them and shrouded himself using one of the only magical ability's taught to him during his time as a free assassin. Few eyes were trained enough to see through his shroud, almost certainly none were here.

Now within his comfort zone, Bilal looked on at chains being broken. But, the one doing the breaking stood out. The woman, her name had escaped him, stood in the middle of the fighting, laughing at death. Long ago Bilal had learned that the only death worth laughing at was your own. She wasn't going to die today, of that he was certain. Which meant she was laughing at the deaths of others. Something both telling and terrifying. Her actions here make her both a leader and a liberator. But, a leader that revels in death is certainly not someone worth following.

"Don't make judgments based on one fleeting action." Bilal's inner voice whispered. He needed to watch her. One character flaw didn't mean this woman was flawed to the core.

A guard slammed into the wall inches from Bilal's hiding spot. The man glanced to the side and the blood drained from his face. He was looking at black circles atop of white orbs. The eyes of a phantom. The man was about to scream when a sword pierced his throat. The sword holder was Bilal's friend Aali. Who went on fighting with the ferocity of a newly freed man. He closed his eyes completing his camouflage.

Bilal would wait. Bilal would watch.