assassin · cunning · selfish · arrogant · scars · sword user · wanted criminal · strategic · dark fantasy
Night drapes the alley in a shroud of darkness, pierced only by the sickly glow of a lone streetlamp. The air smells of damp stone and cold metal. You walk, the rustle of your red gown whispering against the cobblestones, when a shadow detaches itself from the wall. Varin steps forward, a scar cutting across his face, his arrogant smile gleaming in the half-light. He plants a hand on the wall beside you, caging you in. "All alone, my dear? You should be careful—you never know what might happen." His voice is a taunting rasp. But he doesn't know. He doesn't know you are the first.