Snippet #2643061

The noises of the city at night echoed around the buildings as Lord Roger and his dozen hand-picked men waited in silence. He knew they would be coming this way. He knew everything about what they had been doing. Noticing one of his men fidgeting a little he hissed through his teeth, glaring the man into silence. As much as Roger hated dealing with scum like assassins, he needed these ones gone. The moonlight shone off steel swords and armour as the men waited.

Voices at the end of the alley alerted Roger to their presence. Raising his arm he prepared to give the signal to his men, who were visibly psyching themselves up for the fight. "Now!" Bringing his hand down he charged out into the alley with a deafening roar, echoed by his men. He only caught a glimpse of one of the assassins before in a flash of steel he clashed with the other. Gritting his teeth he whirled his sword in a halestorm of blows, driving the assassin back into a wall before headbutting him. Roger's helmet rung from the impact, but he didn't hesitate. Hearing his men fighting behind him he quickly and ruthlessly pulled back his sword and rammed it into the assassin's stomach, the blade piercing through his back and almost pinning him to the wall. Pulling his sword away, Roger let the assassin collapse to the ground and turned away from him to see his men had caught the other.

"Good work men. You two, see to our wounded." He pointed at two of his men before turning his attention fully to the captured assassin. "And you, scum, will never see the light of day again." Gripping her throat in his gauntleted hand, he met her heated gaze with his own, then slammed his other fist into her face. Stepping back in satisfaction, having felt bones break and seen her go limp, he turned and strode off, his men dragging her away.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


The year that passed saw Roger rise in prominence. He cracked down on the king's enemies and carved out a bloody reputation for himself. However, now he was tasked with something he believed insane. His dark expression cowed those around him as he stood outside the prison, his red cloak billowing in the wind and his guards looking scared of him.

As the gates opened he turned and looked at the beaten and weary figure being dragged out and smirked slightly. "I hope your stay here has been pleasant." A laugh came from the guards at this, which he grudgingly allowed. "Your easy time is over now though. You have been selected by the king for a special purpose." As he said this he scowled deeply, thoughts about the idiocy of this searing in his head. Looking down at the assassin his hands twitched. He ached to kill her once and for all. The trials were a mistake. Beyond all measure.