The Assassin's Smile

There are rumors. Of a death that strikes out of nowhere. Rumors of a war, fought in the shadows. But most feared are the rumors of a demon whose warriors not only fight in the shadow, but are shadows themselves. This demon became known as The Master of Shadows, and the legends of his wealth, ruthlessness and power spread and he became the most feared being throughout the land. But there is someone, whose strength is unknown and who wishes to get his hand on the most dangerous thing in the kingdom. And men following the Master of Shadows are the only thing keeping them from their goal.


2. Tharon

The healer handed him another glass. Tharon took it. It was clear the healer was hoping that the alchohol would cloud his mind and Tharon once again doubted his decision to recruit him. Tharon smiled at him and forced his voice to sound clear with no drunken slurring of the words when he spoke.

“Thank you. Why don’t you take a glass yourself?” With some people, pretending to be more drunk than he was would be the best option, and under different circumstances Tharon would have done just that, yet with the healer he could not show any weakness. Loyalty meant a lot to Tharon, which is why he always hated the fake loyalty most new recruites would show in the beginning. In Tharon’s head, you could not be loyal if you don’t know who or what you are loyal to, and so far he had not found it necersarry to tell the Healer.

With that said, he was not exactly fond of the way the Healer danced around the line between acceptable and betrayal.

Arren. The name turned up in his mind when he looked in his eyes. His name was Arren.

Tharon wasn’t certain if he wanted to keep Arren yes. If he continued being this way, he would probably just have him killed. Or more likely, kill him himself.

A man’s voice demanded his attention. It was Jaycob, one of the scouts Tharon sent out every morning.

“The Borrvalley homestead was raided.”

Tharon put his glass down. The homestead marked the beginning of their territory to the east. Whoever raided it might aswell have taken a piss on his front lawn. Tharon was not about to ignore something like that.

But he wasn’t about to rush into a fight with alcohol flowing through his veins either.

“Who?” he asked, voice deep and threatening. Jaycob shrugged.

“Raiders? I have no idea. It must have happened when we were at the meeting last night.

“Find them. I want them alive.” If he was drunk and making important decisions, he always tried to remember not to do anything that couldn’t be reversed. He could always kill a live man. Reviving a dead one, however, was not within his abilities.

Jaycob bowed and ran off.

Tharon barely had time to sit down again before another of his scouts had found something to report.

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