Just as any other job, it started by way of anonymous dead drop in the waters of the city, marked by a rat skull and shaped as a mourning candle left to float into the distance. Yet as I was to find out by the end of it, this was no ordinary job.
The letter gave me a description and the habits of my next target, a certain amount of gold promised so on and so forth. As I watched and learned this man who I still don’t know the name of go about the droll dreary monotony of his life I planned how I would end it. After about two weeks of pretty constant observation I felt I had all the bits into place. One thing nagged me though, he didn’t display anything that meant he knew about his extremely imminent death. No nervous checking over his shoulder, fumbling with his house key, walking like he had somewhere to be in a great hurry but didn’t want to seem suspicious. None of those came across, I mean don’t get me wrong, I have ended people who never knew it was coming, and didn’t know it had happened until they woke up dead, but this felt different somehow.
Well annoying thoughts behind me, I waited for the appointed time, about half an hour before dark as was the set pattern he came home, pulled out the key from the third pocket from the left inside his jacket, put it into the key hole turned it on well oiled gears and went inside. The hinges no longer squeaked, I wonder if he ever thought about that, why his previously noisy-as-a-street-peddler door, had suddenly stopped making even a whisper. (I was oiling them twice a day to prevent just such an occurrence). Leave my perch across the street four levels up and make my way to the back of the house, get in through the door on the rear patio that hung over the lake that made this city famous. He must have almost a dragon’s hoard for him self to own a house built as such. (Which I planned to relieve him of its burden after I loosed his soul). I make my way silently towards where I hear him washing in his room, the sun has set and the street lighters have not made it this far down the road yet, as per the seven gold I paid them to be a tad slow, I enter his room and he is oblivious, as he reaches to scrub his back he suddenly notices a solid shadow wrap itself around his body and wonders what on earth it could be. As I open him from ear to ear my knife makes less sound than I do. As I turn to leave blinding magical light appears from everywhere at once and that light also seemed able to produce soldiers from as many places.
By the gods do I hate being setup.
But I have to respect the dedication to the scheme, the bait knew nothing of his fate. Probably was paid to live in this pinnacle of luxury for as long as it took him to be bored with it. I have respect for someone who would waste a peasant to capture me.