"His name is Korlan Vytali. He's the head advisor of their faction, and the bastards stopping every bit of progress we've been making. We need you take him down."

"He's a bureaucrat. He's soft, I want a challenge."

"Oh, you'll get one. He's got top-rate protection. Ex-assassin, the guy's stopped many of our previous attempts so, we're letting you have your fun. Sound good?"

"Sounds excellent."

Short cropped hair was not unusual on a woman in this part of the world, but the dark color, matching her eyes, was fairly uncommon. The lines of paint around her eyes drawing attention away from her mostly plain looks and inexorably to her striking eyes. Few, however, could hold her gaze, as intense as it was, seeming to pierce through their soul. Despite this, she managed to melt through the crowds with practiced ease, disappearing among the masses as she moved from shop to shop, from cart to cart, all the while appearing to have her full focus on the items before her.

In reality, her focus was everywhere else, scanning the roof tops, counting the patrols of guards, memorizing the human flow through the streets, making note of every unshuttered window. Whether it was an escape route, or a way past a wall, or a position she could fire from, Keaira left no detail over-looked. As the Lord's Assassin, there was no such thing as being too careful, there was no such thing as making a mistake.

And that's exactly the way she liked it.

Days later, and a small, cloaked figure was moving slowly through the crowd, head bowed in prayer as she moved off into a blind alley. As she swept down the abandoned road, she quickly pulled herself hand-over-hand up a rope she had left two days ago, bringing her to a rooftop which she'd been eying since she started her mission. From below, she was hidden by the peculiar architecture of the building, as it sloped out over the street. From above, she was protected all around by trees and the wall of a tenement. Ten feet below, and forty feet away, end alley she was on opened up onto the main street, giving her a narrow, five or six foot gap to through which she would be able to hit her mark.

Niched in this hiding place, she slipped her off her cloak, revealing a vest lined with a collection of knives and quarrels. Carefully, she swung her heavy crossbow off her back, the scarred and pockmarked wood reminding her of a more youthful, less cautious assassin. Each pit in the wood a reminder of bow or blade that had missed her body only thanks to her weapon at her back. Pulling the winch off her back, she quickly set it in place and began setting the string back. With a two hundred pound pull, the winch was a requirement.

The front runners of Vytali's bodyguards were already moving past the narrow gap she had onto the the main street as she slipped the quarrel into it's resting place. These guard were much more attentive then the usual. Stronger, hands close on their weapons as they shoved the crowd aside. Whoever ran this mans security detail surely knew where to find good men.

She lay down, the stock of the bow braced against her shoulder as her fingers caressed the trigger delicately, her eyes focused entirely on the five foot gap that was her window onto the procession below. He should be showing up about... There.

She smiled and stroked the trigger, sending the heavily weighted and razor sharp bolt down range. Six inches of hard oak, tipped with an inch of solid, polished, bladed steel twirled through the air with less sound than the whisper of a nun, before slamming into the chest of her mark, easily punching through his double layer of chain mail and piercing his heart, killing him almost instantly.

Still smiling, she placed the winch back onto the bow, quickly slipping further onto the ledge and out of sight, pulling the string back and slipping another bolt onto the track, smoothing the fletching before laying down and inching back to the edge of the roof, surveying the results of her hit. Chaos abounded as the man's personal guard stood in a tight, bladed wall between the populace and the corpse, as one man, unremarkable from behind, kneeled over the body, checking it over. He stood, giving a slow scan of the area before his eyes settled right on her hiding place. She new he couldn't see her, but all the same, she knew he knew exactly where she was.

"Find him! It came from the-" Her second bolt hissed through the air, but ended up skipping off the street and into a bodyguards ankle, taking the large man to the ground with a yell of surprise and pain. Their leader was nowhere to be seen.

"Shit." She rolled away from the ledge, slinging her weapon across her shoulder once again before dragging her cloak on and quickly heading back to her rope, knowing she had to get out of the area fast. As she started dropping it down though, she spotted him. The counter-assassin. It was the only man it could be. He was already twirling a grappling hook when she appeared at the roof top, her appearance only made him shift his point of aim as he threw the weighted anchor straight for her head. She dodged it easily, but him tightening it almost caught her leg between the hooks and the wall. Growling, she flung a knife at him before sprinting away across the rooftops. It would take him time climbing the thin chain, time she could use to disappear.

Disappear she did. By the time the man hit the rooftop, she was on the ground, vest turned inside out, her crossbow wrapped in her cloak, carrying it like a package as she hurried through th streets. Clots of guards were everywhere, asking questions, and stopping every cloaked or armed figure that moved. They weren't being gentle about it.

She sighed in relief as she took a room in an inn across the street from a brew house, dumping her gear on the floor and stretching out on the bed, keeping the shutters closed despite the summer heat. Safer, especially with that man out there. For some reason, she knew he had seen her, she knew he knew her face. It disturbed her. She had to stay in the city though, and she had to check the brew house across the street. Needed news to confirm her target wasn't just bait. She'd researched, but this man... he was smart. Much smarter than she thought. "No wonder all the other attempts failed..."

Ten minutes later found Kaeira sliding into the brew house and wedging herself into a corner, ordering herself a light dinner. Stew was generally safe, if you could handle the spices... but the food here was a step above most of the similar establishments, making it the most popular in its price range. The more people, the more news, and she was not disappointed. The whole place was ablaze with people talking about the assassination. She smiled behind her mead, the man she'd killed had not been a double. No one was expecting an assassin to use a weapon as unwieldy or powerful as hers. The smile was gone as she lowered her drink, one of the serving wenches placing a hot meal of stew and bread in front of her.

Halfway through the meal, Keaira gave a very slight pause, her eyes tracking the counter-assassin as he entered the common room. She resumed eating almost without noticing, taking a moment to study the man. He was fairly average, but something about the way he moved reminded her all too well of herself. The way people unconsciously made room for him, another trait the two shared. The way his hands moved, so naturally to places she knew he concealed weapons as he walked. His face was smooth, he had managed to avoid too many scars there in his previous, not to mention current, occupations. Tawny hair, grayish brown eyes, fairly straight teeth. Dress and style befitting a ranking guardian, covered with dust, he obviously had not taken time to go home and clean up, which meant he was dedicated to finding the murderer.

Exactly not the man she wanted walking towards her table as he was now. "Lass, a moment of your time?" Not that she could refuse...

"My pleasure m'lord! Now what can ol' Dee do for ye?" her adopted accent marked her as a tourist, or at the very least, farm bred. It put even the meanest drunk at ease.

His eyes didn't soften a bit. "What can you tell me about the murder that happened today?"

"I only heard 'bout it recent-like m'lord, but my cousin's friend said the mayor was stabbed in the streets! Right in front o' his chief security officer too! Oh, lad, be glad you're not 'im! I bet e's proper fu-"

An annoyed growl cut her short, and she shrunk back from the enraged look on the man's face. "My name is Savetas, little girl. I WILL find the assassin, and bring him..." He paused, giving her a penetrating stare. "Or her... to justice. Understand?" With that, he pushed himself away from the table and shoved his way through the staring patrons and out into the streets, followed quickly by the surprised guards.

That went well...

...

Find him girl. Convince him to join us.
Kill him if he refuses.
"I hear your command, and follow your law."

I heard he's in Southwall, over by the
Imperial palace, protecting the king's son...
Last I heard, he was swimmin' bottom of a bottle...
Advice from an old hunter: Use your eyes, girl.

Keaira sighed and wandered the streets of the eighth city she'd been through on her search for the counter assassin. You'd think with a name as uncommon as Savetas, he'd be easier to bloody well find! She railed at herself as she melted through the crowds. No matter where she looked though, she could only find base rumors and no leads of any real substance. It was enough to vex anyone.

"Hey! Watch where you're going." She warned as a rough looking man shoved past her. He glowered at her a moment before a mutual sense of recognition set in.

"You!"
"YOU!" he growled. "You're the one who-" He never finished what he was going to say, as she'd quickly stepped against him, planting the pommel of a dagger in his stomach, forcing him to gasp.

"We need to talk. I have a room, you'll come with me." This time the sharp point of a blade was in his back, allowing no argument. She wrinkled her nose as she pushed the surly man in front of her where she wanted him to go. He smelled like the inside of a bad ale house. Or a gutter. Guess he really had hit hard times...

It was only a matter of minutes to get the counter assassin safely ensconced in her hotel room, where she dropped her cloak, and sat on the edge of a table, a dagger in each hand, watching as the man slumped onto the bed.

"Come to kill me now?" He asked morosely.

She shook her head. "No. Opposite. You're incredible at what you do. My employers want to employ you."

His eyes flashed with anger. "I suppose you'll kill me if I refuse?"

She shrugged. "That's up to you. I'd prefer not to."

"What do they want with a failure?"

She chuckled. "You're not a failure Savetas. I'm just the best. In the world. Ever." She said this completely without boast, but with a wide grin. "You came damn close to nabbing me back at that bar... Have to say I was scared."

He sighed and lay back on the bed. "I couldn't be certain. Didn't wanna risk some innocent farmer's daughter's life over a cold body, especially when I didn't really know who or what you were."

She shrugged. "Join us, and get paid 20 gold a day. Whether you're working it or not."

He sat up and stared at her. "...Why?"

"Because you're just as good as I am."

He started to open his mouth, but she chuckled and slid her knives into their sheaths. "Savey? Take a bath."


...

A year later, a pair of shadows flitted across the rooftops, their cloaks bound to keep them  from flapping in the wind. The taller split from the shorter, diving off and catching the handrail of a balcony, using it to swing his momentum around, allowing him to land in the street and roll easily over his shoulder, sprinting through the dark city night.

The only sign of his passing, six inches of steel buried in a straw target.

Scant minutes later, and the pair were crouched low upon the parapet of wall, looking down at the mansion below. "Nice night."

Keaira smiled, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. Jasmine was blooming, filling the night with it's sweetness. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Ol' laddeh, I think it do be ratha' pleasen' tonigh'..."


Savetas grimaced at her. "I thought we agreed, no more Dee?" Her quiet laugh as she twisted and dove off the wall was his only response. He landed an instant behind her, fast enough to hear her whisper that he loved her and shouldn't complain. He smiled and melted into the shadows, moving the opposite direction of her. The two assassin's slid and glided through the mansion's gardens, before fading in to separate windows, seeking their fortune within together.

He did at that...