Totally not an idea in the works; Fully ignore... Yup.
The sky wore heavy with broken clouds, the only steady source of light sitting in the center of a hastily strewn together camp. Closest to the fire sat a wooden rack, some type of meat hanging either to dry or cook, settled opposite of the meats and fire sat a rather large log with a dark fur lain over it with a man sitting upon it. His skin looked as weather worn as the ox tied off a few paces from the uncovered wagon. A shadow shifted, watching as he takes a large bite out of stale bread, his jaws working extra hard, his little grunts and the fires soft cackling adding to the night’s ambience. Another person, a woman, lay nearby on a worn bedroll, their boots stowed away under their flat pillow in what was undoubtedly a vain attempt to improve their comfort as they slept. The third person of the camp was only noticed by their feet sticking out from an undersized deer-skinned tent, their snores as broken as the clouds above. The moon, when shown, bathed the valley, giving it an ethereal charm that seemed lost on those surrounded by it.
The shadow flexed their hands, pulling out a folded piece of paper, using the brief rays of the moon to once more look over its contents. Satisfied, it was stuffed back into their pocket, their hands securing their hood one more time. Eyes in the dark reflected the flames that licked up at the sky, and then the figure was gone. The ox let out a moo, the figure stilling in the tall grass, part of the wagons wheel sheltering them. Their eyes hastily searched the face of the eating man though he seemed to pay the animal no mind. The ox let out a grunt next. The shadows figure carefully edged its way to the creature, carefully reaching out, a bribe snatched from the wagon, presented close to its mouth. The ox accepted the snack and cautiously allowed a few pats before it finally calmed down. A smile briefly found itself under the shadows mask before their eyes grimly took in the camp dwellers once more. Stifling a sigh they reached into the pouch at their hip, taking out a round earthy object, rolling it into the fire. A sputter came as it caught fire, smoke growing thick.
The man stood up in alarm, the woman on the bedroll blearily responding to the alarmed sound of her comrade, but it was too late. The coughing began, their eyes watering, gasping breaths, and then the soft thuds of falling bodies. Waiting a few moments more, the figure in the shadows stood, strolling towards the knocked out people. The fires light framed the shadows figure, even adorned in flexible leathers and hidden with cloth, the shape of a woman was unarguably noticeable. The ox whined. She turned her head to the beast, studying it for a moment. It seemed upset but thankfully her calculations had been accurate as the poisoned smoke ‘bomb’ had not been close enough to effect the creature. Good. She was going to need its serviced; it would fetch some nice coin too. Turning back to the three people she set to work bounding their hands and feet, lugging them onto their own wagon after hitching it up to the oxen.
She patted its side. “Sorry girl, I know you expected a rest.” It silently just stared back. Going over the wagon once more she made sure to sit them with their backs to the wood jutting up at each corner, it curving and connecting at the top for a cloth to be fastened on hot or rainy weathered days. Rope was slide between their bound hands and tied off at whichever of the wagons frame their bodies sat closest to. Just in case any should wake up and try to make a break for it. She’s dealt with that enough times more than she cared to count. She sifted through the pack in the camp, pocketing some coins and wrapping up the meat, the rest worthless bits of clothing. She kicked dirt over the fire until it sputtered out, glancing at the dark fur resting over the log nearby. Her fingers, only half concealed by her gloves for better grip, brushed over the pelt, her eyes back to studying. Hesitating but a moment she lifted it up, shaking it before rolling it and tossing it onto the wagon between the feet of the slouched bodies. Pulling her mask down, she leaned forward and gave a brief kiss to the ox on its nose, the ox grunting and licking its nose in response. “Stay here girl; I’ll be back in just a sec.” Trotting off over one of the hills south of the camp, her eyes scanned the fields, the clouds thinning out to give her more light. The clouds were certainly in her favor tonight. She grinned as her eyes landed on the horse ways off. She took off in a light jog before she was sure the camp was far enough behind her so she could freely whistle.
The black beasts head perked up, the white tipped ear flicking. Its eyes caught sight of the crimson shadow, the horse’s hoofs digging into the earth as it bolted towards her. Bits of earth sprayed up as the horse careened to a stop inches before the smiling girls face, the mask tucked under her chin as she kissed her horses nose much like the ox. Her hands held and brushed its muzzle and neck, their foreheads resting together as the horse snorted. “I missed you too Cirrus. Come, we got the targets.” Leading the horse, it playfully nudging her back as she giggled, they made it back to the campsite. The men and woman were both still out cold, the ox patiently waiting. Striding back to the wagon she pulled out the dark fur, shaking it once more, motioning to her side as the horse complied, sniffing the item. “It’s a bit colder than I expected tonight.” Patting its side and pushing a little, the horse turned. Tossing the fur over its bareback and smoothing it out, patting the horses shoulder affectionately. It let out a soft whiney, shaking its head. Laughing she pulled the mark back over her back. “Yes, yes. You’re a handsome boy Cirrus.” Hopping onto his back, she grabbed onto his mane, the other hand reaching out as she bent over, taking the ox’s reigns, tossing it over the sheathed dagger on her thigh, slipping one part of it under, her hand returning to her horse. “Okay boy, let’s go collect that bounty.”
A fist slammed down onto the table, the contents bouncing up, drinks spilling off the sides onto the stone floor. “Was I not clear enough? I will not spend a dime extra on these filth! They either do the jobs or they starve. The rest is not my concern nor my problem! They are lucky I let them even work here given their disgusting heritage.” There was a shifting of feet from the obvious distraught young man, shrinking back to the door with each pound of the man’s fist upon the oak desk. At either side of the portly brute stood two silent muscle, their hands folded behind them, eyes following the skinny boys movements. Up in the building wooden beams crouched another woman, the curved dagger tightened in her grip, eyes narrowing. It was a tight spot and seemed very unlikely she was going to get any sort of opening. Loathed as she was to admit it, the so called Doyen was a sharp looking man. May he was pretty on the inside deep down? She intended to take a look herself, absentmindedly tracing the tip of her blade before flipping it in her palm, the blade facing out. There was more ‘talking’ before the poor young boy looked all but ready to faint with nerves. “Escort this lad out; I have no further need of him.” The woman’s ice blue eyes narrowed as one of the guards at the doyens shoulder walked forward, gripping the back of the boy’s shirt and half dragging him out of the building.
Silent as a cat, the woman descended right behind the other guard, dragging the blade firm and quick across his throat, her other hand pressed firmly over his mouth. Her arms followed his slouching decent to further muffle any noise. “Now then, Mr. Johan, I think it’s time fo-” Blood coughed out of the man’s mouth the moment he turned around, cold blue eyes staring at him, a knife lodged deep into his heart. He opened and closes his mouth a couple times soundlessly before his eyes rolled back, the woman kicking him in the chest, yanking her dagger free as he fell back. The sound of a door clicking open was met with a powerful jump, dagger sheathed, her arms held high to catch the beam as she pulled herself up all in one fluid motion. She had but two seconds before he noticed the bodies and likely raise alarm. As quick as she dared she skirted across the beams. Just as he was halfway across the room, his face turned into horror, his shout cut off as the woman slammed down into his back, the knife digging in deep with her added weight from the drop. He twitch, fingers clawing back at her, gripping her arm hard. Winced she pulled back on the knife, widening the wound before wiggling the blade out. The man let out a loud gargled grunt, his head to the side with eyes staring up full of hate at the woman as she stood next to his head. His hand, much weaker, shakily stretched out for her foot. She merely batted it away. “You know. You’re boss was my target. I was ordered to just kill him.” She bent down near his face, the fight starting to leave his eyes. “But I hate to leave filth sitting around so I thought I should clean up.”
He took in the cool steel of the blade, watching in morbid fascination as the mixed bloods of his comrades and his own traced the etching of a snowflake. His eyes raked up her form, growing blurry. Her outfit was unassuming, a very deep dark set of blues and purples, no skin showing but half of her fingers and the glow of her eyes. But still. He knew. “Ice Queen.” A flash of teeth showed in a pitiless smile as she rose up, voices in the hallway building. Change of guard. Glancing down she saw man take a breath, about to shout with his remaining life. The Ice Queen slammed the heel of her boot into his neck, bending and roughly grabbing his chin as she pulled up and twisted. His body stilled, the voices vibrating through the door in mindless chatter. Slipping fast to the wall behind the door as it opened, waiting for the first man to walk in before slamming the knife into the back of his knee and grabbing the door, slamming it hard into the second man twice. The man on the ground in front yelled for half a second, reaching to his side for his weapon, but he was too late. The woman’s dagger already stabbed deep into his throat. The faint sound of metal was all the warning she got as a sword was slashed at her head, her automatically bend forward and jutting her leg out and turning the tip of her boot to hug the back of the man’s neck, her hands placed upon the dead man in front of hers back as she lifted herself up and let her other foot toss over the man’s shoulder, twisting her whole body and throwing him to the side.
The side of his head hit the wall with a solid thud. This being the third head injury in a manner of a minute weakened his grip enough to have the sword easily kicked out of his hand as he tried to swipe again. Snarling up at the woman he threw a punch as her, she easily dodging the messy attempt before grabbing his head and slamming it into the stone walls. Her dagger still lodged into the throat of the man behind her and the sword out of reach left her with no option but to slam his head into the stone again. His hands wrapped around her throat in a desperate attempt, squeezing. She slammed his head again. He spit into her face. Again she slammed his head into the wall. His hands fell slack at his sides, leg twitching. Her breathing was heavy, gasping, her eyes cautiously roaming his face before smashing his head one more time into the wall for good measure. And then the room grew silent once more. Iron. She tasted iron. The woman licked her lip, feeling a light swell from the guard’s feeble last attempt at clawing at her face. She patted his sides for any valuables, retrieving her dagger and cleaning on the shirt of the bent over man, slipping it back inside her cloak. Her hand stayed within her cloak, patting around before retrieving a thin metal shaped snowflake, leaving it over the heart of the dead doyen. “Beware the frozen heart, Doyen. I hear it kills.” Glancing at the room one last time she turned on her heel, and walked out.
