So I've been in Baldur's Gate for about a month now. Nice place. Nice people. But plenty of trouble. An assassin could do well in an area like this, where everybody hates everybody.
I see a lot of young and up-and-coming assassins in this area. I won't name any names of course, so as not to give them away. But when I travel with adventurers...i study them. Intimately. I study their body language. Their personalities. Their techniques.
Some of their techniques are amazing. Others...not so much. So I figure, as your resident psychopath, I needed to do something to help along the less fortunate who are seeking to take the path of the Assassin. Because we need more good killers in the world.
So before I begin the how-to guide I need to let a few things be known, as well as to express a few opinions of mine:
1) Being an Assassin is a good job. You will NEVER go hungry. Because as long as there are at least two people on this rock we call a planet SOMEBODY will want SOMEBODY dead...and are usually too weak to do it themselves.
2) An Assassin is not a crazed killer. One is a career. The other is mental sickness. That being said: There's NOTHING wrong with enjoying what you do!
Now then, that being said, let's get to it!! Following the instructions in this guide is going to be the difference between being a two-bit killer and a finely trained Assassin. Listen to these techniques. Memorize them. Let them burn themselves into your mind, and you too can say "I'm an Assassin!"...but dont' do that. That's a bad idea. That's dumb. See rule #1.
I will be doing this book chapter by chapter, going into detail about what I call "The Manual to Murder." I hope you like it. I hope you find it insightful. And more than that: I hope it gives you a chuckle or two. Because I believe, wholeheartedly, that the last thing any Assassin should kill: Their own sense of humor.
Let's get started shall we?
Assassination: A how-to Guide by Geist von Mitternacht!
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kitteninablender
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Assassination: A how-to Guide by Geist von Mitternacht!
Chaos is relative. What is normal for the Spider is Chaos for the Fly.
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kitteninablender
- Posts: 671
- Joined: Fri Nov 05, 2010 1:37 pm
- Contact:
Re: Assassination: A how-to Guide by Geist von Mitternacht!
Chapter One: Anonymity is your friend.
The first lesson of every great Assassin is this: You must learn to live a double life. It's not easy. It's not fun. But you must remember to separate the Man and the Assassin. Or woman. Or whatever gender you identify as...assuming there's more than two.
The Man can have an identity. The Assassin cannot. The man can have a name. A family. Friends. Pets.
The Assassin can have none of these things. When I am on the job, when I am on the hunt, I am not Geist von Mitternacht. In fact, Geist von Mitternacht is not my name, it is my title.
I once had a name. Gabriel Nightveil, I was known. But Gabriel Nightveil is no more: His throat was torn out by the vampire Strahd Von Zarovich. His corpse was raised as a Vampire Spawn, and spent three years under the monster's Thrall. But this, my friends, is a story for another time.
Suffice it to say: I learned my trade during my time as a Vampire, before I was returned. I learned to stalk the shadows, I learned to be swift, and silent. I learned the joy of the hunt, the thrill of the kill. And those lessons have remained with me to this day.
Anonymity is a Shroud, as much as any Shadow or Cloak. It is a warm blanket that one can wrap themselves in, and take refuge from the cold.
A Man is his own man. An Assassin must be many men at once:
The Gardener, who kills with a carefully placed sickle to the neck.
The Chef who prepares the poisoned Dish.
The Chambermaid who suffocates their target with a pillow.
The Assassin must become all of these things. The Assassin's identity must be as fluid as a serpent. And like a serpent you must be able to shed that identity at a moment's notice.
Those who know Geist von Mitternacht know him as several things: Loud. Obnoxious. Perverse. Drug Addict. Womanizer. Drunkard. Precisely what I want them to think: That I'm a fool. But the fool has power.
In a court room the Fool has the greatest power of them all: The ability to make fun of the king, to his face, and get away with it. But it's more than that. The fool has access to the entire castle, every nook and cranny. And nobody ever suspects the fool. After all...he is only a fool. That facade is a suit of armor that can shield and hide his intentions.
So to you, my dearest reader, I challenge you: Adopt a new identity. It doesn't have to be anybody important. It can be anybody else you choose to be. Tell you what: We'll call him Steve, the Painter. Where was Steve born? Is Steve afraid of anything? Does Steve have any life goals? Does he love a woman? Does Steve have any hobbies other than painting? What's Steve's political affiliation? Does Steve worship a God? What's Steve's favorite food? Favorite color?
These little things may seen completely inane. Completely superficial. But that is what it takes to assume an identity: It must be something that you assume completely. A new identity isn't just a name badge, or a uniform. A new identity is a change of character, a change of thoughts, a change of actions and beliefs. To truly become someone else you must let go of all that you are.
Think of the Assassin as...a template.The Assassin is a blank slate which can be altered at his own whim to become whatever he needs. But the Assassin is just that. A blank slate. The Assassin is nobody. The Assassin has no name. Has no beliefs. The Assassin..is merely a tool. A tool for murder. The Assassin is anonymity given form.
So think of it like this, my dear reader: When you put on that black hood. When you put on that black cloak, the black clothes, you are not putting ON a disguise...
...you are removing the thing that makes you....you. You are becoming a Blank Slate. Becoming anonymous. Becoming "nothing." And it is the Nothing that you become that gives you your power.
In a story, long ago, a King was captured by a Cyclops. When the Cyclops asked the King his name...he responded "I am Nobody." In his escape from the beast the King pierced the Cyclops' eye with a spear. When the Cyclops' brothers asked him "Who blinded you, brother!?"..
..he said "Nobody. Nobody has blinded me." You must learn to be that Nobody.
That concludes this lesson, I believe. I hope you enjoy what you're reading so far, as much as I've enjoyed writing it!
The first lesson of every great Assassin is this: You must learn to live a double life. It's not easy. It's not fun. But you must remember to separate the Man and the Assassin. Or woman. Or whatever gender you identify as...assuming there's more than two.
The Man can have an identity. The Assassin cannot. The man can have a name. A family. Friends. Pets.
The Assassin can have none of these things. When I am on the job, when I am on the hunt, I am not Geist von Mitternacht. In fact, Geist von Mitternacht is not my name, it is my title.
I once had a name. Gabriel Nightveil, I was known. But Gabriel Nightveil is no more: His throat was torn out by the vampire Strahd Von Zarovich. His corpse was raised as a Vampire Spawn, and spent three years under the monster's Thrall. But this, my friends, is a story for another time.
Suffice it to say: I learned my trade during my time as a Vampire, before I was returned. I learned to stalk the shadows, I learned to be swift, and silent. I learned the joy of the hunt, the thrill of the kill. And those lessons have remained with me to this day.
Anonymity is a Shroud, as much as any Shadow or Cloak. It is a warm blanket that one can wrap themselves in, and take refuge from the cold.
A Man is his own man. An Assassin must be many men at once:
The Gardener, who kills with a carefully placed sickle to the neck.
The Chef who prepares the poisoned Dish.
The Chambermaid who suffocates their target with a pillow.
The Assassin must become all of these things. The Assassin's identity must be as fluid as a serpent. And like a serpent you must be able to shed that identity at a moment's notice.
Those who know Geist von Mitternacht know him as several things: Loud. Obnoxious. Perverse. Drug Addict. Womanizer. Drunkard. Precisely what I want them to think: That I'm a fool. But the fool has power.
In a court room the Fool has the greatest power of them all: The ability to make fun of the king, to his face, and get away with it. But it's more than that. The fool has access to the entire castle, every nook and cranny. And nobody ever suspects the fool. After all...he is only a fool. That facade is a suit of armor that can shield and hide his intentions.
So to you, my dearest reader, I challenge you: Adopt a new identity. It doesn't have to be anybody important. It can be anybody else you choose to be. Tell you what: We'll call him Steve, the Painter. Where was Steve born? Is Steve afraid of anything? Does Steve have any life goals? Does he love a woman? Does Steve have any hobbies other than painting? What's Steve's political affiliation? Does Steve worship a God? What's Steve's favorite food? Favorite color?
These little things may seen completely inane. Completely superficial. But that is what it takes to assume an identity: It must be something that you assume completely. A new identity isn't just a name badge, or a uniform. A new identity is a change of character, a change of thoughts, a change of actions and beliefs. To truly become someone else you must let go of all that you are.
Think of the Assassin as...a template.The Assassin is a blank slate which can be altered at his own whim to become whatever he needs. But the Assassin is just that. A blank slate. The Assassin is nobody. The Assassin has no name. Has no beliefs. The Assassin..is merely a tool. A tool for murder. The Assassin is anonymity given form.
So think of it like this, my dear reader: When you put on that black hood. When you put on that black cloak, the black clothes, you are not putting ON a disguise...
...you are removing the thing that makes you....you. You are becoming a Blank Slate. Becoming anonymous. Becoming "nothing." And it is the Nothing that you become that gives you your power.
In a story, long ago, a King was captured by a Cyclops. When the Cyclops asked the King his name...he responded "I am Nobody." In his escape from the beast the King pierced the Cyclops' eye with a spear. When the Cyclops' brothers asked him "Who blinded you, brother!?"..
..he said "Nobody. Nobody has blinded me." You must learn to be that Nobody.
That concludes this lesson, I believe. I hope you enjoy what you're reading so far, as much as I've enjoyed writing it!
Chaos is relative. What is normal for the Spider is Chaos for the Fly.
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kitteninablender
- Posts: 671
- Joined: Fri Nov 05, 2010 1:37 pm
- Contact:
Re: Assassination: A how-to Guide by Geist von Mitternacht!
Chapter Two: Tools of the Trade.
The biggest rookie mistake that any Assassin can make is to assume he's not going to need any of his tools on the job. But this is a double-edged sword.
The more you carry the more options you have. But also the more you are slowed down.
But there is another risk with carrying too much: The greater the possibility of something being left behind.
I am going to combine two lessons into this chapter: The first of which is the tools that I take with me on the job. And the second lesson is perhaps one of the most important, and I cannot stress this enough.
LEAVE NOTHING BEHIND.
Nothing. And I mean absolutely nothing. Not a thread. Not an arrow. Not a used poison vial. With the exception of the target's Corpse there should be NOTHING left behind that has the ability to tie you to a crime.
You have to remember an important lesson: Magic is EVERYWHERE. More specifically: Divination Magic. All it takes is one loose thread. One poison vial. One arrow. One drop of your blood....and it can all be over. You must leave behind nothing that can be used to find you.
This is one of the reasons that I tend to prefer assassination via Melee weapons. However,
If you have to use a ranged weapon: Use one that magically creates it's own ammunition. Such ammunition disappears a few seconds after it is fired, leaving behind no trace.
If you use poison: Keep the vial. And keep it labeled. It's bad juju to mix your venoms. Doing so can dilute them and make them inefficient. Thus it is always good to keep labeled vials of the venoms that you carry.
I will be delving now into the tools that I take on the job.
We will start with the most basic: Your uniform. There is a reason that I wear a basic black uniform. It's not just for blending into the shadows. It's because it's generic. Very. Generic. People make fun of the "Generic" assassin, with his black hood and his black cloak. But that's a good thing. Be Generic. Because the less you stand out...the harder you are to be noticed. If they have to pick out which assassin did the job in a line-up of forty other guys all wearing the same clothes...makes your life much easier. But the Uniform also serves other purposes. Woven inside of the fabric are numerous hidden pouches. These pouches are small enough to hide daggers, vials of poison, and even vials of acid.
Acid, you ask? Of course. Very few things eat through Manacles like a splash of acid. They can also dissolve prison bars. You can also slip them into your target's food. And in the event you are ever cut, the acid can be used to cauterize the wound to prevent blood loss.
The next aspect of your uniform: The Mask. This is a technique that will literally save your life, so listen up: The Inside of your Mask should be reinforced with a thick layer of cloth. This cloth will aid you with a few things. For one: It will work to filter out smoke. There may be situations where setting a Fire will serve as a distraction for your escape. If you carry a waterskin with you you can soak the cloth on your mask, and doing so will help to prevent smoke inhalation. You can also do this if you intend to use poisons that are dispersed via the air or spores, such as Myconid Spores or Iron Golem Fumes.
The next part of your uniform: Your cloak. A Dark cloak can serve you well. When hiding in a dark corner you can wrap your body in the cloak. This will help to hide your sillhouette, making you more difficult to spot if you remain hidden. If pulled over your head at night it can also mimic the sillhouette of a stone or hill mound, aiding in your ability to remain hidden.
Next item on the list: Your weapon.
An assassin's weapon should be easy to conceal. A Dagger. A Shortsword. The easier your weapon is to conceal on your body the better. If you are wearing a Disguise, such as a Gardener for example, your weapon should be able to pass itself off as something that someone in your position would use. It's not unfeasible, for example, for a chef to keep a sharp knife at his side. A Gardener might keep a sickle, or a scythe. Even a painter can keep a Knife, because Knives and Chisels are oftentimes used with painting in order to paint fine or straight edges, such as the horizon on a sea scape.
If you aren't in disguise, I recommend the Stiletto. It is halfway between the length of a shortsword and a dagger. And I recommend that the blade be as straight as possible. Curved Blades aren't as good at slipping between the grooves of armor. You need to be able to slip your blade between the chinks in a breastplate, or where the helm of a full-plate meets the base of the neck. Straight blades are the best for this, as they give deeper penetration. Hehe. I said deeper penetration....sorry. Got distracted.
The other important part of your weapon is the scabbard. The scabbard should be wrapped in leather, as it prevents it from making noise while you are moving about. I also recommend cutting off the very tip of the Scabbard. This is because, if you do so, the Scabbard becomes two additional useful tools for the Assassin: A Blowgun, which can be used to deliver poisoned darts with increased precision...and a snorkel.
Hiding under water is a valuable skill. At night an Assassin wearing a monochromed Garb is almost invisible when he hides under the surface of a lake or pond. The snorkel can allow you to remain submerged indefinitely so long as it is unobstructed. If done properly the snorkel poking out of the water can easily be mistaken for a piece of bamboo or Reed. This is another reason I recommend a straight bladed weapon: It fits in a Bamboo scabbard quite easily. A bamboo scabbard can be disguised as a Walking Stick if needed to complete a disguise.
The next item in the Assassin's Toolkit: Rope and Grappling hook. The rope I use is special. I have learned how to extract and make it after years of practice. This is a trade secret, and I hope that you will make good use of it, my reader.
The rope that i use is made from Spider's Silk. Yes...actual spider silk. "How do you get Spider's Silk, Mr. Mitternacht?" You might be asking yourself. You can procure it from the glands of Giant Spiders. Or, if you're lucky, you might find a Drow merchant willing to take your coin. Spider Silk Rope is very common in the Underdark, and is commonly used among Drow houses.
Spider Silk has amazing tensile strength. A length of it no longer than your arm and no thicker than the point of a dagger can hold the weight of an average human male: About 150 pounds. I weigh just a little over that, and the rope can suspend me just fine.
Spider Silk is also translucent. Against a black background, if thin enough, the rope is practically invisible in any conditions save for direct sunlight shining upon it.
Spider's Rope does have a downside, however. But it is a downside that can be very useful. It's exceptionally flammable. And if burned it will completely disintegrate, almost instantly, leaving behind absolutely zero remains. Avoid using it in any situation where it might get burned. However: If you need to make an escape without leaving behind any evidence you have the ability to burn the spider silk after you are through with it in order to not leave behind any evidence. This is also useful if you need to quickly escape a harness or rapelling wire you may have created.
The next part of this is your grappling hook. I recommend the three-pronged variety. You will want to temper your grappling hook with Blacksmith's Oil: A chemical used to temper blades after they have had prolonged exposure to the furnace. This will blacken the metal, as well as remove it's natural sheen. This makes it so that the metal will not reflect light that is shone upon it. This is ideal for concealment. The Oil will also increase the malleability of the metal, allowing it to support more weight without increasing it's own weight, ideal for a good throw. The oil also helps the metal to absorb shock: which is incredibly necessary should you have to rappel quickly.
Other things you will need in your toolkit: Paper money. Coins are loud. They are heavy. They jingle. But fortunately: Most assassination missions take place in urban environments. Most major cities offer Trade Bonds, a form of paper money that can be redeemed for gold. These bonds make your life much easier, as you can carry thousands of coins, essentially, on a single bank note.
"But why does an assassin need money, Mr. Mitternacht?" Well, good question kids.
You never know when you're going to need emergency supplies. And if you are ever put in a compromising position you never know when Bribery will be useful. People are only as loyal as they are paid to be. You never know when you can bribe an official, or if you'll need to make an emergency purchase.
Next item, oddly enough: Food and Water. I recommend Jerky. Good dried Jerky is practically odorless, and can last for several days before going bad. Jerky also can serve as a distraction in the event that your target has Guard Dogs. Not only that, but, there may be situations in which you are forced to remain in one place for several hours. You NEED to keep up your strength. I recommend either meat, or fresh berries, as the berries will provide a short boost of sugars. Having Water on you can serve several purposes. You can keep yourself hydrated, as well as use it to douse fires in order to remove illumination from an area. The Waterskin, also...and this is going to sound tasteless, but it's true...can also be used in the event that you need to urinate mid mission. Assassins don't get pee breaks. If you have to stake out an area for several hours, well, you don't want to be stuck without a pot to piss in. If you do piss in it...keep it! Urine can actually be used to neutralize various forms of chemicals. Including Alchemists fire! Don't ask me how I know this...let's just say some lessons are learned harder than others. Not to mention throwing a jar of piss at something can prove to be a very effective distraction. Once again...don't ask me how I know this.
I believe that's enough for this chapter, boys and girls. In the next chapter we'll be going over the next lesson: Infiltration Do's and Don'ts. I hope you keep reading!
The biggest rookie mistake that any Assassin can make is to assume he's not going to need any of his tools on the job. But this is a double-edged sword.
The more you carry the more options you have. But also the more you are slowed down.
But there is another risk with carrying too much: The greater the possibility of something being left behind.
I am going to combine two lessons into this chapter: The first of which is the tools that I take with me on the job. And the second lesson is perhaps one of the most important, and I cannot stress this enough.
LEAVE NOTHING BEHIND.
Nothing. And I mean absolutely nothing. Not a thread. Not an arrow. Not a used poison vial. With the exception of the target's Corpse there should be NOTHING left behind that has the ability to tie you to a crime.
You have to remember an important lesson: Magic is EVERYWHERE. More specifically: Divination Magic. All it takes is one loose thread. One poison vial. One arrow. One drop of your blood....and it can all be over. You must leave behind nothing that can be used to find you.
This is one of the reasons that I tend to prefer assassination via Melee weapons. However,
If you have to use a ranged weapon: Use one that magically creates it's own ammunition. Such ammunition disappears a few seconds after it is fired, leaving behind no trace.
If you use poison: Keep the vial. And keep it labeled. It's bad juju to mix your venoms. Doing so can dilute them and make them inefficient. Thus it is always good to keep labeled vials of the venoms that you carry.
I will be delving now into the tools that I take on the job.
We will start with the most basic: Your uniform. There is a reason that I wear a basic black uniform. It's not just for blending into the shadows. It's because it's generic. Very. Generic. People make fun of the "Generic" assassin, with his black hood and his black cloak. But that's a good thing. Be Generic. Because the less you stand out...the harder you are to be noticed. If they have to pick out which assassin did the job in a line-up of forty other guys all wearing the same clothes...makes your life much easier. But the Uniform also serves other purposes. Woven inside of the fabric are numerous hidden pouches. These pouches are small enough to hide daggers, vials of poison, and even vials of acid.
Acid, you ask? Of course. Very few things eat through Manacles like a splash of acid. They can also dissolve prison bars. You can also slip them into your target's food. And in the event you are ever cut, the acid can be used to cauterize the wound to prevent blood loss.
The next aspect of your uniform: The Mask. This is a technique that will literally save your life, so listen up: The Inside of your Mask should be reinforced with a thick layer of cloth. This cloth will aid you with a few things. For one: It will work to filter out smoke. There may be situations where setting a Fire will serve as a distraction for your escape. If you carry a waterskin with you you can soak the cloth on your mask, and doing so will help to prevent smoke inhalation. You can also do this if you intend to use poisons that are dispersed via the air or spores, such as Myconid Spores or Iron Golem Fumes.
The next part of your uniform: Your cloak. A Dark cloak can serve you well. When hiding in a dark corner you can wrap your body in the cloak. This will help to hide your sillhouette, making you more difficult to spot if you remain hidden. If pulled over your head at night it can also mimic the sillhouette of a stone or hill mound, aiding in your ability to remain hidden.
Next item on the list: Your weapon.
An assassin's weapon should be easy to conceal. A Dagger. A Shortsword. The easier your weapon is to conceal on your body the better. If you are wearing a Disguise, such as a Gardener for example, your weapon should be able to pass itself off as something that someone in your position would use. It's not unfeasible, for example, for a chef to keep a sharp knife at his side. A Gardener might keep a sickle, or a scythe. Even a painter can keep a Knife, because Knives and Chisels are oftentimes used with painting in order to paint fine or straight edges, such as the horizon on a sea scape.
If you aren't in disguise, I recommend the Stiletto. It is halfway between the length of a shortsword and a dagger. And I recommend that the blade be as straight as possible. Curved Blades aren't as good at slipping between the grooves of armor. You need to be able to slip your blade between the chinks in a breastplate, or where the helm of a full-plate meets the base of the neck. Straight blades are the best for this, as they give deeper penetration. Hehe. I said deeper penetration....sorry. Got distracted.
The other important part of your weapon is the scabbard. The scabbard should be wrapped in leather, as it prevents it from making noise while you are moving about. I also recommend cutting off the very tip of the Scabbard. This is because, if you do so, the Scabbard becomes two additional useful tools for the Assassin: A Blowgun, which can be used to deliver poisoned darts with increased precision...and a snorkel.
Hiding under water is a valuable skill. At night an Assassin wearing a monochromed Garb is almost invisible when he hides under the surface of a lake or pond. The snorkel can allow you to remain submerged indefinitely so long as it is unobstructed. If done properly the snorkel poking out of the water can easily be mistaken for a piece of bamboo or Reed. This is another reason I recommend a straight bladed weapon: It fits in a Bamboo scabbard quite easily. A bamboo scabbard can be disguised as a Walking Stick if needed to complete a disguise.
The next item in the Assassin's Toolkit: Rope and Grappling hook. The rope I use is special. I have learned how to extract and make it after years of practice. This is a trade secret, and I hope that you will make good use of it, my reader.
The rope that i use is made from Spider's Silk. Yes...actual spider silk. "How do you get Spider's Silk, Mr. Mitternacht?" You might be asking yourself. You can procure it from the glands of Giant Spiders. Or, if you're lucky, you might find a Drow merchant willing to take your coin. Spider Silk Rope is very common in the Underdark, and is commonly used among Drow houses.
Spider Silk has amazing tensile strength. A length of it no longer than your arm and no thicker than the point of a dagger can hold the weight of an average human male: About 150 pounds. I weigh just a little over that, and the rope can suspend me just fine.
Spider Silk is also translucent. Against a black background, if thin enough, the rope is practically invisible in any conditions save for direct sunlight shining upon it.
Spider's Rope does have a downside, however. But it is a downside that can be very useful. It's exceptionally flammable. And if burned it will completely disintegrate, almost instantly, leaving behind absolutely zero remains. Avoid using it in any situation where it might get burned. However: If you need to make an escape without leaving behind any evidence you have the ability to burn the spider silk after you are through with it in order to not leave behind any evidence. This is also useful if you need to quickly escape a harness or rapelling wire you may have created.
The next part of this is your grappling hook. I recommend the three-pronged variety. You will want to temper your grappling hook with Blacksmith's Oil: A chemical used to temper blades after they have had prolonged exposure to the furnace. This will blacken the metal, as well as remove it's natural sheen. This makes it so that the metal will not reflect light that is shone upon it. This is ideal for concealment. The Oil will also increase the malleability of the metal, allowing it to support more weight without increasing it's own weight, ideal for a good throw. The oil also helps the metal to absorb shock: which is incredibly necessary should you have to rappel quickly.
Other things you will need in your toolkit: Paper money. Coins are loud. They are heavy. They jingle. But fortunately: Most assassination missions take place in urban environments. Most major cities offer Trade Bonds, a form of paper money that can be redeemed for gold. These bonds make your life much easier, as you can carry thousands of coins, essentially, on a single bank note.
"But why does an assassin need money, Mr. Mitternacht?" Well, good question kids.
You never know when you're going to need emergency supplies. And if you are ever put in a compromising position you never know when Bribery will be useful. People are only as loyal as they are paid to be. You never know when you can bribe an official, or if you'll need to make an emergency purchase.
Next item, oddly enough: Food and Water. I recommend Jerky. Good dried Jerky is practically odorless, and can last for several days before going bad. Jerky also can serve as a distraction in the event that your target has Guard Dogs. Not only that, but, there may be situations in which you are forced to remain in one place for several hours. You NEED to keep up your strength. I recommend either meat, or fresh berries, as the berries will provide a short boost of sugars. Having Water on you can serve several purposes. You can keep yourself hydrated, as well as use it to douse fires in order to remove illumination from an area. The Waterskin, also...and this is going to sound tasteless, but it's true...can also be used in the event that you need to urinate mid mission. Assassins don't get pee breaks. If you have to stake out an area for several hours, well, you don't want to be stuck without a pot to piss in. If you do piss in it...keep it! Urine can actually be used to neutralize various forms of chemicals. Including Alchemists fire! Don't ask me how I know this...let's just say some lessons are learned harder than others. Not to mention throwing a jar of piss at something can prove to be a very effective distraction. Once again...don't ask me how I know this.
I believe that's enough for this chapter, boys and girls. In the next chapter we'll be going over the next lesson: Infiltration Do's and Don'ts. I hope you keep reading!
Chaos is relative. What is normal for the Spider is Chaos for the Fly.
-
kitteninablender
- Posts: 671
- Joined: Fri Nov 05, 2010 1:37 pm
- Contact:
Re: Assassination: A how-to Guide by Geist von Mitternacht!
Chapter two: Infiltration Do's and Don't.
So we're going to discuss today, dear reader, the Do's and Do Not's of the most key part of any Assassination job: Infiltration.
Whether you're infiltrating a castle to kill the king, or infiltrating someone's home to kill them while they sleep there are some things that you should and should not do to avoid being caught. In this chapter we will discuss these at length.
Your first lesson with infiltration is the cardinal rule of infiltration: ALWAYS have an out.
You should always know your exit. You should always know how far you are from your exit. You should always know each and every obstacle that stands, or could potentially stand, between you and your exit.
The easiest way to do this, obviously, is to case the joint before the mission. That is assuming, of course, that you have access.
If the Assassination is to take place in a private residence this can be difficult. One of my favorite methods is to deliver flowers, or food, and pretend that you have the wrong address. When the person opens the door you have a moment, just a few moments, to take note of the layout of the room and analyze it for potential weaknesses.
One of the things that I have been graced with, by luck of the Gods, is that I possess an Eidetic Memory. What this means is that when I see something for the first time: I never forget it. I have a natural ability to remember names, faces, dates, birthdays, long sequences of numbers. Not everybody has this gift, and I make good use of it.
When I see inside of the house for the first time I make a few quick, mental notes: Are there windows? Is there an upstairs? A basement? A cellar? Is there a dog? How many people are in the home? How many rooms?
Keep in mind that you are not able to gain the full breadth of this information with just a few looks. But if you combine a quick look at the inside of the house with casing the outside you can, usually, find the best course of action to take.
Another course you can take is this, assuming of course that you intend to assassinate someone at their place of business. Many shop owners live in their shops. And this can be used to your advantage.
For one: Shops are open to the public. You are free to go in and "Browse" their wares whilst simultaneously casing the joint. This can give you an in depth knowledge of the layout of the building.
Businesses also, are required to submit schematics of their buildings to the City Council. This has to be done for numerous reasons: One of which is to insure that the building is up to code and that the appropriate zoning regulations are in order. The other is to see how the building interacts with the city's aqueducts and sewer systems. These records tend to be accessible by the public, primarily to contractors looking to build in the area. Make use of this. And if they are restricted a bit of coin or the right honeyed words to the right officials can make those records available.
Cliche as it sounds: Sewers make incredible tools for infiltration. Both for infiltration and for exfiltration. A sewer makes a great escape, granted you can navigate the labyrinthian layout of a city aqueduct system.
Rooftops are also an incredible resource. Very rarely do guards look up. With a light foot and a quick step the rooftops of a city can be the quickest path to and from anywhere you need to be. They also provide for good vantage points by which you can scope out the area and plot your course to and from your destination. Chimneys make good hiding places, assuming you can take the heat. Your mask will be most valuable here, as it can filter out the smoke and allow you to hide inside of a chimney for an extended period.
Most city guards are heavily armored. They cannot navigate the rooftops the same as a lightly-armored assassin. Use this to your advantage. Remember: Mobility and stealth are your allies. Not brute strength. Face to face with a well-trained fighter an Assassin will most certainly meet a grisly end. Use your brain.
In the next lesson we will be discussing humanoid anatomy, as well as the best places to strike in order to maximize your killing potential in as little time as possible.
I hope I have continued to maintain your interest, dear reader. The best is yet to come!
So we're going to discuss today, dear reader, the Do's and Do Not's of the most key part of any Assassination job: Infiltration.
Whether you're infiltrating a castle to kill the king, or infiltrating someone's home to kill them while they sleep there are some things that you should and should not do to avoid being caught. In this chapter we will discuss these at length.
Your first lesson with infiltration is the cardinal rule of infiltration: ALWAYS have an out.
You should always know your exit. You should always know how far you are from your exit. You should always know each and every obstacle that stands, or could potentially stand, between you and your exit.
The easiest way to do this, obviously, is to case the joint before the mission. That is assuming, of course, that you have access.
If the Assassination is to take place in a private residence this can be difficult. One of my favorite methods is to deliver flowers, or food, and pretend that you have the wrong address. When the person opens the door you have a moment, just a few moments, to take note of the layout of the room and analyze it for potential weaknesses.
One of the things that I have been graced with, by luck of the Gods, is that I possess an Eidetic Memory. What this means is that when I see something for the first time: I never forget it. I have a natural ability to remember names, faces, dates, birthdays, long sequences of numbers. Not everybody has this gift, and I make good use of it.
When I see inside of the house for the first time I make a few quick, mental notes: Are there windows? Is there an upstairs? A basement? A cellar? Is there a dog? How many people are in the home? How many rooms?
Keep in mind that you are not able to gain the full breadth of this information with just a few looks. But if you combine a quick look at the inside of the house with casing the outside you can, usually, find the best course of action to take.
Another course you can take is this, assuming of course that you intend to assassinate someone at their place of business. Many shop owners live in their shops. And this can be used to your advantage.
For one: Shops are open to the public. You are free to go in and "Browse" their wares whilst simultaneously casing the joint. This can give you an in depth knowledge of the layout of the building.
Businesses also, are required to submit schematics of their buildings to the City Council. This has to be done for numerous reasons: One of which is to insure that the building is up to code and that the appropriate zoning regulations are in order. The other is to see how the building interacts with the city's aqueducts and sewer systems. These records tend to be accessible by the public, primarily to contractors looking to build in the area. Make use of this. And if they are restricted a bit of coin or the right honeyed words to the right officials can make those records available.
Cliche as it sounds: Sewers make incredible tools for infiltration. Both for infiltration and for exfiltration. A sewer makes a great escape, granted you can navigate the labyrinthian layout of a city aqueduct system.
Rooftops are also an incredible resource. Very rarely do guards look up. With a light foot and a quick step the rooftops of a city can be the quickest path to and from anywhere you need to be. They also provide for good vantage points by which you can scope out the area and plot your course to and from your destination. Chimneys make good hiding places, assuming you can take the heat. Your mask will be most valuable here, as it can filter out the smoke and allow you to hide inside of a chimney for an extended period.
Most city guards are heavily armored. They cannot navigate the rooftops the same as a lightly-armored assassin. Use this to your advantage. Remember: Mobility and stealth are your allies. Not brute strength. Face to face with a well-trained fighter an Assassin will most certainly meet a grisly end. Use your brain.
In the next lesson we will be discussing humanoid anatomy, as well as the best places to strike in order to maximize your killing potential in as little time as possible.
I hope I have continued to maintain your interest, dear reader. The best is yet to come!
Chaos is relative. What is normal for the Spider is Chaos for the Fly.
-
kitteninablender
- Posts: 671
- Joined: Fri Nov 05, 2010 1:37 pm
- Contact:
Re: Assassination: A how-to Guide by Geist von Mitternacht!
Chapter 4: The Anatomy of the Kill.
One of the things that a lot of up-and-coming Assassins don't learn right away is the proper way to execute...well..an execution. Everybody seems to think that the answer is simple: Pointy end of the sword goes into the other guy.
I'm here to tell you that it's a lot more complicated than that. There are a lot of things to consider when you finally go for the killing blow: Where is the target armored? How are they armored? How thick is their armor? How thick is their skin? These are things to very carefully consider when you prepare for that all-important telling blow.
In this chapter I'm going to give you some key advice on how best to maximize your killing potential while minimizing your effort. So listen up, my dear reader, because these techniques can be the difference between a clean kill and a sloppy kill. Sloppy kills don't do anyone any good.
First Lesson: The Neck.
There are several places on the body that, if struck, can maximize the damage dealt to your target. The most obvious being the neck. It's simple enough to strike the throat, or the windpipe, but there are other regions as well that are, arguably, more effective than just slitting the throat.
In the neck there are two primary arteries: They are called the Carotid arteries. The Carotid arteries are located in the neck approximately three centimeters to the left and the right of the esophagus. That's your throat-hole for the people who aren't so well anatomically inclined. The carotid arteries carry the majority of the blood that flows into the head, primarily into the temple and to the brain. when sliced they bleed profusely, leading to immediate disorientation of the target. When severed the target can bleed out, completely, in a matter of fifteen seconds. Assuming they don't receive magical healing of course.
The other region to strike in the neck is just above the first disk of the spine. We will go into the spine in more detail later in this chapter. The first of these disks is called the first Cervical. There are five of these in the spine. They are the bones of the neck. The first cervical is the bone that, quite simply, connects your head to your spine. Severing of the nerves above the first cervical leads to immediate paralysis. This includes paralysis of the esophagus and the connective tissues between the esophagus and the lungs. To put it in lamen's terms: If you strike here, the death is almost immediate. That...and the target cannot scream. If you are in a situation where your target MUST die a silent death: This is the place to strike.
Second lesson: The arm.
The arm? "How you gonna kill somebody stabbing them in the arm?" you may ask. The answer: The Brachial Artery. This is the artery that connects directly from the heart that goes through the shoulder and down the arm. It goes down the inside of the elbow and links directly into the wrist, which then extends into the phalanges of the hand. When severed this artery will bleed profusely, and can cause the target to bleed out quickly. Severing this artery will also paralyze the arm, rendering their ability to wield a weapon useless.
Third lesson: the leg. There is a major artery that goes through the leg called the Femoral artery. severing this artery will paralyze the legs and cause the target to bleed out almost immediately. This is the most vulnerable artery in the body. Use this well.
I hope this was informative, my dear reader. Stay tuned for the next exciting chapter: The Get-Away!!
One of the things that a lot of up-and-coming Assassins don't learn right away is the proper way to execute...well..an execution. Everybody seems to think that the answer is simple: Pointy end of the sword goes into the other guy.
I'm here to tell you that it's a lot more complicated than that. There are a lot of things to consider when you finally go for the killing blow: Where is the target armored? How are they armored? How thick is their armor? How thick is their skin? These are things to very carefully consider when you prepare for that all-important telling blow.
In this chapter I'm going to give you some key advice on how best to maximize your killing potential while minimizing your effort. So listen up, my dear reader, because these techniques can be the difference between a clean kill and a sloppy kill. Sloppy kills don't do anyone any good.
First Lesson: The Neck.
There are several places on the body that, if struck, can maximize the damage dealt to your target. The most obvious being the neck. It's simple enough to strike the throat, or the windpipe, but there are other regions as well that are, arguably, more effective than just slitting the throat.
In the neck there are two primary arteries: They are called the Carotid arteries. The Carotid arteries are located in the neck approximately three centimeters to the left and the right of the esophagus. That's your throat-hole for the people who aren't so well anatomically inclined. The carotid arteries carry the majority of the blood that flows into the head, primarily into the temple and to the brain. when sliced they bleed profusely, leading to immediate disorientation of the target. When severed the target can bleed out, completely, in a matter of fifteen seconds. Assuming they don't receive magical healing of course.
The other region to strike in the neck is just above the first disk of the spine. We will go into the spine in more detail later in this chapter. The first of these disks is called the first Cervical. There are five of these in the spine. They are the bones of the neck. The first cervical is the bone that, quite simply, connects your head to your spine. Severing of the nerves above the first cervical leads to immediate paralysis. This includes paralysis of the esophagus and the connective tissues between the esophagus and the lungs. To put it in lamen's terms: If you strike here, the death is almost immediate. That...and the target cannot scream. If you are in a situation where your target MUST die a silent death: This is the place to strike.
Second lesson: The arm.
The arm? "How you gonna kill somebody stabbing them in the arm?" you may ask. The answer: The Brachial Artery. This is the artery that connects directly from the heart that goes through the shoulder and down the arm. It goes down the inside of the elbow and links directly into the wrist, which then extends into the phalanges of the hand. When severed this artery will bleed profusely, and can cause the target to bleed out quickly. Severing this artery will also paralyze the arm, rendering their ability to wield a weapon useless.
Third lesson: the leg. There is a major artery that goes through the leg called the Femoral artery. severing this artery will paralyze the legs and cause the target to bleed out almost immediately. This is the most vulnerable artery in the body. Use this well.
I hope this was informative, my dear reader. Stay tuned for the next exciting chapter: The Get-Away!!
Chaos is relative. What is normal for the Spider is Chaos for the Fly.
-
kitteninablender
- Posts: 671
- Joined: Fri Nov 05, 2010 1:37 pm
- Contact:
Re: Assassination: A how-to Guide by Geist von Mitternacht!
In this chapter boys and girls we will discuss one of the most key aspects of the game: The get-away!!
So the deed is done. You've done it. You've killed your target and have completed your mission....well, not quite.
Remember this phrase. Remember this phrase well. burn it into the back of your eyelids and into your brain if you have to:
"An Assassination job is NOT complete until you have successfully gotten away with it."
So I'm going to give you a few tips, boys and girls. A few ways to guarantee that after the deed is done you can run away to kill another day.
Step 1) Bring a change of clothes. Yes. A regular, good, old-fashioned change of clothes. This doesn't have to be part of a Disguise...though it can be if you're feeling frisky. A simple change of clothes can be the difference between a successful mission and a botched one. All it takes is one drop of blood. One. One itty-bitty teency weency drop of blood to give you away and the jig is up.
If your exit is going to require you to be seen then I suggest finding a quiet place and changing clothes immediately. Even if you just have to change a shirt, or a pair of pants, or what have you.
Step 2) Have a place to stash the murder weapon. Being caught with a bloody knife is a sure fire way to get caught. The last thing you need is to visibly be carrying the weapon you have used to commit the assassination. I suggest finding somewhere to hide it that it blends in. For example: If you have to use a kitchen knife then hide the kitchen knife with the other kitchen knives in the knife block. Give it a wipe down, and hide it in plain sight. most people won't think to look at the kitchen knives owned by the estate as murder weapons.
Step 3) Know your exit. I discussed this in chapter one, but it really does bear repeating. Know which way is out. And if that way may become compromised always have another.
Step 4) Carry a bottle of wine. "A bottle of wine, Geist, are you getting drunk on the mission!?" Well, no. That comes after!
A bottle of red wine can be used for several things.
1) In an emergency you can douse yourself with the wine to cover up the marks of blood on your clothing. It's easy enough to claim "Oh, bother, I had an accident with the wine."
2) to Feign drunkenness. Sometimes the easiest way to explain why you are in a place that you don't belong is because you got Drunk and wandered in there. At a party, for example, you might feign drunkenness to gain access to a restricted part of the home by simply claiming that you were drunk and looking for somewhere to take a piss. I've done this more than once.
3) To cover up blood elsewhere. A bit of spilled wine can also mask the bloodstains on the floor, on the sheets, or anywhere else a bit of stray blood might end up. The best part about it is if somebody cleans up the wine in order to investigate the crime scene...they also wipe up the blood with it. You've just allowed the investigators to destroy evidence. Clever you.
4) To mask your smell. A bit of Muscadine wine has a very powerful odor. The wine can mask several things: The scent of sweat, the scent of blood, the scent of gunpowder (if you use such a thing.)
The uses for wine are many. I always carry a bottle just in case!
Step 5) Distractions can be life-savers.
Sometimes in order to make an exit it's necessary to create a distraction. It is for this reason I carry a gnomish lighter. A tender twig or flask of alchemists fire can do the trick as well. Fire draws a lot of attention. throwing an alchemist flask into a haystack causes a giant roaring flame. One that needs to be doused immediately. While people are busy focusing on the fire you can make good your escape.
Another is a time-delayed alchemist flask. Alchemist Flasks don't just react to oxygen to combust. They also react to minor amounts of heat and fire. One of my favorite tactics is to set an Alchemist Fire with a fuse. A fuse of about three feet in length takes approximately three minutes to burn through if lit with a tender-twig as opposed to an actual open flame. this gives you plenty of time to make your way towards your exit, allow the fuse to do it's work, and the flask will explode with a great degree of noise and concussive force. The concussive force creates a loud echo, which will permeate the area, and will almost certainly draw any unwanted attention towards the area of it's detonation. The combined fire, as well as the sound, will create all the distraction you need to get away.
Step 6) Know who to bribe.
Sometimes the key to a hasty exit can require that someone be bribed. Not necessarily a Guard or a chambermaid, but sometimes it can be as simple as bribing someone to rent their horse and carriage for an evening. An open wagon filled with hay makes for a nice soft landing if it becomes necessary to leap from a roof-top. You can even hide a simple pair of beggar's clothing inside of the hay to change into so that you can casually leave the scene of the crime.
One of my favorites is to bribe the Kitchen Staff to look the other way and let me use the kitchen for a bit. This way I can add a little "extra seasoning" to the target's meal. That way I never even have to go into his room, and can simply walk out as simply as I came in. Those are the best kind of assassinations in my opinion: Ones where I don't have to personally be present to have made the kill.
That's all for this chapter kids. The next, and final chapter (for this book at least!) is perhaps one of the most important of all.
So you've killed the guy. So you've gotten away from the scene of the crime? So you've ditched the Murder Weapon? So you weren't seen?
However...where WERE you the night of the murder in question?
In the next exciting chapter we will cover....THE ALIBI!!
So the deed is done. You've done it. You've killed your target and have completed your mission....well, not quite.
Remember this phrase. Remember this phrase well. burn it into the back of your eyelids and into your brain if you have to:
"An Assassination job is NOT complete until you have successfully gotten away with it."
So I'm going to give you a few tips, boys and girls. A few ways to guarantee that after the deed is done you can run away to kill another day.
Step 1) Bring a change of clothes. Yes. A regular, good, old-fashioned change of clothes. This doesn't have to be part of a Disguise...though it can be if you're feeling frisky. A simple change of clothes can be the difference between a successful mission and a botched one. All it takes is one drop of blood. One. One itty-bitty teency weency drop of blood to give you away and the jig is up.
If your exit is going to require you to be seen then I suggest finding a quiet place and changing clothes immediately. Even if you just have to change a shirt, or a pair of pants, or what have you.
Step 2) Have a place to stash the murder weapon. Being caught with a bloody knife is a sure fire way to get caught. The last thing you need is to visibly be carrying the weapon you have used to commit the assassination. I suggest finding somewhere to hide it that it blends in. For example: If you have to use a kitchen knife then hide the kitchen knife with the other kitchen knives in the knife block. Give it a wipe down, and hide it in plain sight. most people won't think to look at the kitchen knives owned by the estate as murder weapons.
Step 3) Know your exit. I discussed this in chapter one, but it really does bear repeating. Know which way is out. And if that way may become compromised always have another.
Step 4) Carry a bottle of wine. "A bottle of wine, Geist, are you getting drunk on the mission!?" Well, no. That comes after!
A bottle of red wine can be used for several things.
1) In an emergency you can douse yourself with the wine to cover up the marks of blood on your clothing. It's easy enough to claim "Oh, bother, I had an accident with the wine."
2) to Feign drunkenness. Sometimes the easiest way to explain why you are in a place that you don't belong is because you got Drunk and wandered in there. At a party, for example, you might feign drunkenness to gain access to a restricted part of the home by simply claiming that you were drunk and looking for somewhere to take a piss. I've done this more than once.
3) To cover up blood elsewhere. A bit of spilled wine can also mask the bloodstains on the floor, on the sheets, or anywhere else a bit of stray blood might end up. The best part about it is if somebody cleans up the wine in order to investigate the crime scene...they also wipe up the blood with it. You've just allowed the investigators to destroy evidence. Clever you.
4) To mask your smell. A bit of Muscadine wine has a very powerful odor. The wine can mask several things: The scent of sweat, the scent of blood, the scent of gunpowder (if you use such a thing.)
The uses for wine are many. I always carry a bottle just in case!
Step 5) Distractions can be life-savers.
Sometimes in order to make an exit it's necessary to create a distraction. It is for this reason I carry a gnomish lighter. A tender twig or flask of alchemists fire can do the trick as well. Fire draws a lot of attention. throwing an alchemist flask into a haystack causes a giant roaring flame. One that needs to be doused immediately. While people are busy focusing on the fire you can make good your escape.
Another is a time-delayed alchemist flask. Alchemist Flasks don't just react to oxygen to combust. They also react to minor amounts of heat and fire. One of my favorite tactics is to set an Alchemist Fire with a fuse. A fuse of about three feet in length takes approximately three minutes to burn through if lit with a tender-twig as opposed to an actual open flame. this gives you plenty of time to make your way towards your exit, allow the fuse to do it's work, and the flask will explode with a great degree of noise and concussive force. The concussive force creates a loud echo, which will permeate the area, and will almost certainly draw any unwanted attention towards the area of it's detonation. The combined fire, as well as the sound, will create all the distraction you need to get away.
Step 6) Know who to bribe.
Sometimes the key to a hasty exit can require that someone be bribed. Not necessarily a Guard or a chambermaid, but sometimes it can be as simple as bribing someone to rent their horse and carriage for an evening. An open wagon filled with hay makes for a nice soft landing if it becomes necessary to leap from a roof-top. You can even hide a simple pair of beggar's clothing inside of the hay to change into so that you can casually leave the scene of the crime.
One of my favorites is to bribe the Kitchen Staff to look the other way and let me use the kitchen for a bit. This way I can add a little "extra seasoning" to the target's meal. That way I never even have to go into his room, and can simply walk out as simply as I came in. Those are the best kind of assassinations in my opinion: Ones where I don't have to personally be present to have made the kill.
That's all for this chapter kids. The next, and final chapter (for this book at least!) is perhaps one of the most important of all.
So you've killed the guy. So you've gotten away from the scene of the crime? So you've ditched the Murder Weapon? So you weren't seen?
However...where WERE you the night of the murder in question?
In the next exciting chapter we will cover....THE ALIBI!!
Chaos is relative. What is normal for the Spider is Chaos for the Fly.
-
kitteninablender
- Posts: 671
- Joined: Fri Nov 05, 2010 1:37 pm
- Contact:
Re: Assassination: A how-to Guide by Geist von Mitternacht!
Final Chapter: the Alibi.
So you've killed your mark! Congrats, good to be you. So you've gotten away? Yay! Even better.
But now comes the inevitable ending of all assassination jobs: The alibi.
Let's face it: People get murdered. And of course, if you do your job right, not too many people know that you're a hired killer.
But suppose you are seen? Suppose that there was somebody at the job site that COULD have been you? What then?
Doesn't matter how good you are, we ALL get spotted from time to time. And the question always inevitably comes:
"Where were you on the night in question?"
Take it from me, kids, the Alibi can be the trickiest part of the whole job. You need to have it substantiated that you were somewhere else at the time that the murder took place.
This is where, I'm afraid, sometimes you have to sacrifice your good name in order to save your freedom.
A little trick about lying: People are more willing to believe a lie if it's something that embarasses you rather than glorifies you.
Nobody wants to believe that you killed a Dragon. But people are willing to believe you got drunk and blew chunks at a party. Because it's embarassing. It's the kind of thing you don't WANT people to know....which makes it believable.
If somebody asks you "Where were you on the night in question?" My answer is usually pretty simple: I was too drunk to remember.
I'm a drunkard. And a lecher. And a drug addict. Or, at least, that's what I WANT people to think. It's so much easier to believe that "Gary" was at some bar getting wasted than it is to believe that he carefully calculated and executed a murder.
One of the "props" that I carry with me is a wedding ring. I put it on when I go into bars. This does a few things: It establishes with the barkeep that you're a married man who is likely drinking because of troubles at home. This makes it very easy to get the barkeep to cover for you. Not directly, mind you. Allow me to explain:
Ambiguity. That's the key to a good alibi.
"Gary" as I've become known is a wastrel. A drunkard. A (germbag)-monger and a vagabond. Enough so that if anybody ever asks the bars or brothels I frequent "Was Gary here on said night"...the answer becomes "Most Likely."
If you're at a bar enough you become considered a "fixture." Fixtures are so common in bars: Tables, chairs, et cetera that they oftentimes go overlooked or unnoticed. Especially if you're like me and you order a drink and just nurse it in the corner for a few hours every few nights. Present...but not obvious. If anybody ever asks me where I was "on the night in question" I can almost always tell them that I was at "X Bar" drinking....and it's pretty easy to believe it to be true. I'm generic looking enough and anonymous enough that it's pretty easy to assume. Ambiguity.
In order to convict a criminal there has to be enough evidence to directly tie them to the scene of a crime. If you've followed the instructions as I've laid out in this manual you haven't left anything behind to directly tie you. So the only way that you are effectively caught is if somebody has the ability to point you out.
There's ambiguity in that too. Allow me to set an example:
"Yes sir, I saw that scraggly looking bearded man at the castle the night he was killed!"
"...this exact man? But people claim he was at the bar that night."
"Umm...it kinda looked like him...he smelled like booze, and had a beard..."
"A lot of people smell like booze and have scraggly beards."
"Okay, so we'll ask the barkeep if Gary was there that night. Was he, Barkeep?"
"Eh...most likely. He's here most nights."
That's where you are able to make good your escapes. Ambiguity. Unless someone can specifically identify YOU at the scene...and there is no reasonable doubt that you weren't somewhere else...and there is no ambiguity as to whether or not you were there that night...the most that can happen, legally, is that you can be detained. But if you're smart, and didn't leave evidence, they have no means to keep you.
They may question you: And there-in comes the next part of the chapter. The Interrogation!
I'm going to give you a trade secret. There is an Arcane Spell that all of you should learn, or at least procure scrolls of. The spell is called "Store Memory."
Essentially: The spell allows you to erase all memories of an event that occured and "Store" those memories elsewhere in the form of a scroll. When you do, the memories are completely removed from your mind until you read the scroll at a later date, at which point they are magically restored to you.
While the memories are removed any form of magic, such as Detect Thoughts or Detect Lies, can't make you answer any questions about the event in question....because you don't know the answer to their question.
After each Assassination I use a scroll of this spell and remove all memory of the job from my mind. My protocol is that I will "forget" everything about the job for 72 hours. After the job is completed I write myself a note. The note will usually say something along the lines of "Check the Memory Bank (what I call where I keep the scrolls) on X date." I'll cast the spell on myself, remove all memories of the event, and then store the scrolls away safely.
After about 72 hours I will go to the Memory bank, read the Scroll I've inscribed the memories onto, and then I will remember details about the Assassination. I will then collect my payment.
I've discovered that 72 hours is the window in which an investigation is at it's strongest. This way if I'm ever questioned I can, honestly, claim that "I don't know anything." No form of divination magic can, after all, force me to remember things that I don't know.
It also helps with the interrogation itself. No matter how good you are at lying there are people even better at sensing your motives. But if you genuinely don't know anything, and therefore you aren't lying when you say "I don't know"....no matter how good someone is at spotting a Liar they won't be able to spot you. Cause you're not lying.
I've used this trick for many years, using it to commit the assassinations and then "forgetting" about it for a few days while everything cools down. Then after 72 hours I'll read the scrolls, remember everything that happened, and then we're good to go after I've already been struck off of the "suspect list."
This is a technique that I have kept secret until now. Learn it. Use it.
I believe that will conclude this chapter. Stay tuned for the Epilogue!
So you've killed your mark! Congrats, good to be you. So you've gotten away? Yay! Even better.
But now comes the inevitable ending of all assassination jobs: The alibi.
Let's face it: People get murdered. And of course, if you do your job right, not too many people know that you're a hired killer.
But suppose you are seen? Suppose that there was somebody at the job site that COULD have been you? What then?
Doesn't matter how good you are, we ALL get spotted from time to time. And the question always inevitably comes:
"Where were you on the night in question?"
Take it from me, kids, the Alibi can be the trickiest part of the whole job. You need to have it substantiated that you were somewhere else at the time that the murder took place.
This is where, I'm afraid, sometimes you have to sacrifice your good name in order to save your freedom.
A little trick about lying: People are more willing to believe a lie if it's something that embarasses you rather than glorifies you.
Nobody wants to believe that you killed a Dragon. But people are willing to believe you got drunk and blew chunks at a party. Because it's embarassing. It's the kind of thing you don't WANT people to know....which makes it believable.
If somebody asks you "Where were you on the night in question?" My answer is usually pretty simple: I was too drunk to remember.
I'm a drunkard. And a lecher. And a drug addict. Or, at least, that's what I WANT people to think. It's so much easier to believe that "Gary" was at some bar getting wasted than it is to believe that he carefully calculated and executed a murder.
One of the "props" that I carry with me is a wedding ring. I put it on when I go into bars. This does a few things: It establishes with the barkeep that you're a married man who is likely drinking because of troubles at home. This makes it very easy to get the barkeep to cover for you. Not directly, mind you. Allow me to explain:
Ambiguity. That's the key to a good alibi.
"Gary" as I've become known is a wastrel. A drunkard. A (germbag)-monger and a vagabond. Enough so that if anybody ever asks the bars or brothels I frequent "Was Gary here on said night"...the answer becomes "Most Likely."
If you're at a bar enough you become considered a "fixture." Fixtures are so common in bars: Tables, chairs, et cetera that they oftentimes go overlooked or unnoticed. Especially if you're like me and you order a drink and just nurse it in the corner for a few hours every few nights. Present...but not obvious. If anybody ever asks me where I was "on the night in question" I can almost always tell them that I was at "X Bar" drinking....and it's pretty easy to believe it to be true. I'm generic looking enough and anonymous enough that it's pretty easy to assume. Ambiguity.
In order to convict a criminal there has to be enough evidence to directly tie them to the scene of a crime. If you've followed the instructions as I've laid out in this manual you haven't left anything behind to directly tie you. So the only way that you are effectively caught is if somebody has the ability to point you out.
There's ambiguity in that too. Allow me to set an example:
"Yes sir, I saw that scraggly looking bearded man at the castle the night he was killed!"
"...this exact man? But people claim he was at the bar that night."
"Umm...it kinda looked like him...he smelled like booze, and had a beard..."
"A lot of people smell like booze and have scraggly beards."
"Okay, so we'll ask the barkeep if Gary was there that night. Was he, Barkeep?"
"Eh...most likely. He's here most nights."
That's where you are able to make good your escapes. Ambiguity. Unless someone can specifically identify YOU at the scene...and there is no reasonable doubt that you weren't somewhere else...and there is no ambiguity as to whether or not you were there that night...the most that can happen, legally, is that you can be detained. But if you're smart, and didn't leave evidence, they have no means to keep you.
They may question you: And there-in comes the next part of the chapter. The Interrogation!
I'm going to give you a trade secret. There is an Arcane Spell that all of you should learn, or at least procure scrolls of. The spell is called "Store Memory."
Essentially: The spell allows you to erase all memories of an event that occured and "Store" those memories elsewhere in the form of a scroll. When you do, the memories are completely removed from your mind until you read the scroll at a later date, at which point they are magically restored to you.
While the memories are removed any form of magic, such as Detect Thoughts or Detect Lies, can't make you answer any questions about the event in question....because you don't know the answer to their question.
After each Assassination I use a scroll of this spell and remove all memory of the job from my mind. My protocol is that I will "forget" everything about the job for 72 hours. After the job is completed I write myself a note. The note will usually say something along the lines of "Check the Memory Bank (what I call where I keep the scrolls) on X date." I'll cast the spell on myself, remove all memories of the event, and then store the scrolls away safely.
After about 72 hours I will go to the Memory bank, read the Scroll I've inscribed the memories onto, and then I will remember details about the Assassination. I will then collect my payment.
I've discovered that 72 hours is the window in which an investigation is at it's strongest. This way if I'm ever questioned I can, honestly, claim that "I don't know anything." No form of divination magic can, after all, force me to remember things that I don't know.
It also helps with the interrogation itself. No matter how good you are at lying there are people even better at sensing your motives. But if you genuinely don't know anything, and therefore you aren't lying when you say "I don't know"....no matter how good someone is at spotting a Liar they won't be able to spot you. Cause you're not lying.
I've used this trick for many years, using it to commit the assassinations and then "forgetting" about it for a few days while everything cools down. Then after 72 hours I'll read the scrolls, remember everything that happened, and then we're good to go after I've already been struck off of the "suspect list."
This is a technique that I have kept secret until now. Learn it. Use it.
I believe that will conclude this chapter. Stay tuned for the Epilogue!
Chaos is relative. What is normal for the Spider is Chaos for the Fly.
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kitteninablender
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Re: Assassination: A how-to Guide by Geist von Mitternacht!
Epilogue: A bit about the author, and his philosophies on the art of the kill.
So we've had a few laughs. We've told a few stories. We've shared a few thoughts and ideas. So I've given you the "how" of Assassination...but I haven't given you perhaps the most important aspect. The "Why."
Why do you do this Geist? Why do you kill people? Do you enjoy it? Do you feel as though you are fulfilling your life's mission? Is there a reason that you are drawn to the blood? is there a reason you feel that Death is the thing you deal best in life?
I'm going to tell you a little bit about me, and why I think the way I think.
I was born Gabriel Nightveil, in the year 1325 in the city of Luskan. My father was a ship captain. My mother was a bar wench that served in the local tavern in my neighborhood. Life was very tough for me growing up. We didn't have a lot of money. My father liked to drink. A lot. My mother considered me more of a burden than an actual child.
As with many of the children in Luskan: I was hungry. And a hungry kid does desperate things. I stole. I stole a lot. Fishing through other people's pockets came as naturally to me as fishing the waters came for my father. I spent a lot of time on the boat, learning how to tie knots, how to fish, how to bait a hook. I spent more time on boats than dry land as a child.
Luskan is a city ruled by Pirates. More specifically the four Pirate Captains. I don't remember their names: They changed ranks so many times due to mutinies that their names are forever forgotten to the dregs of history. But I know that one of those captains had a thing for my mother. I believe, though have never actually proven, that my mother was forced to sell her body on multiple occasions in order to put food on our table.
You know how they say you never forget your first love? It's true. But you also never forget your first kill. For me, however, I had the scorn of Fate itself that mine just happened to be one and the same.
Her name was Ravennekah. An angel sent from on high. Her face is, perhaps, the one image that is seared into my mind forever. I remember her so vividly. The smell of her hair...she washed it with soap made of apples. Her skin was as pale as snow. Her hair crimson as the sunset. Her eyes were as blue as the deep waters of the Luskan Harbor. I'll never forget her. I'd never want to.
I was 12 years old when we first met. I tried to steal an apple from her fruit stand. I was a good thief, I had stolen countless apples, countless loaves of bread, countless racks of ribs...I could have almost gotten Fat if I didn't spend so much time running for my life in the Luskan Markets. But one day I slipped. I happened to reach for an apple at the exact same time that she did. Our hands touched, mine on top of hers. Our eyes met. I was no mage, but, in that moment I stopped time. A heartbeat that lasted for an eternity. Gazing into the infinity that was the depth of her eyes I felt, in that moment, that my life had long since been empty without her in it. She smiled at me with those rose-colored lips and uttered words that I'll never forget. "Just take it. You can pay me with a smile."
And I did. I smiled. My teeth were yellow, and crooked, but she didn't care. She smiled back at me with those pearls and in that moment I knew she was the one for me. There is nothing so pure, so innocent as the love that one feels as a child. Not lust. Not impure desire. Love. Pure, unfettered love. A thing that, no matter how rich or powerful one becomes noone could ever buy. I took the apple from her, and stole away into the night. I didn't dare eat it. I kept that apple until it rotted, because of how beautiful both it and she was.
I stole an apple. But she stole my everything. Had she asked it I would have torn my still-beating heart out of my chest and placed it in her hands...for it belonged to her already.
Every day I went back to her fruit stand. And everyday always the same: "Just take it. It's only an apple. You can pay me with that beautiful smile." But one day she gave me something special. A dagger. A dagger in-laiden with Silver. "Something to peel your apples with, silly!" she said. I kept that dagger for my entire life. I still have it.
And I did. Again, and again, and again. Every day a smile for her. I even practiced in the mirror. I'd smile in different ways, different angles. Sometimes a smirk, sometimes a giant smile where I showed all of my yellow teeth. She laughed at those. Her laugh was the world to me.
But one day she didn't show up. I had practiced a big buck-toothed smile to show my dearest Ravennekah. Raven, I had called her for short. I sauntered up to her usual spot with that big dopey smile on my face..but my angel wasn't there.
"Where is Raven?" I asked the old woman who was standing there. "Where's my Raven? Is she sick today?"
But the old woman just looked at me, with a forlorn frown. She said nothing. But her silence spoke volumes.
"WHERE IS SHE!?" I demanded. My eyes were red. My cheeks were drowned.
"She...isn't coming back Gabriel." said the old woman with a tear. "She...she owed some people some money..and..."
That's all the woman had to say. I knew who to talk to. His name was Kurd. A local crime-boss who ran that particular area of the city. If anybody knew anything about any of the going's on in that area Kurd was the one to ask. Kurd's goon squad tended to shake down us thieves. "Operating Tax" in order to "work" their part of the city and stay on their good side.
So I took that Dagger that Raven had given me, hid it in my sleeve, and went to speak with Mr. Kurd. I approached his "base", a small little alley that smelled of piss and refuse. Moving past his armed muscle I looked Kurd in his face and asked him simply "Raven. Girl who ran the fruit stand. Where. Is. She?"
Kurd was a huge, imposing man. He wore an eye-patch as a "souvenir" from one such occasion where he disappointed one of the Pirate Captains of the City. He bore a series of tattoos and scars from years of life at sea as a pirate. Due to his age, and his numerous injuries, Kurd could no longer sail the open seas and spent his days running the streets, engaging in burglary and extortion. The man looked down at this little street urchin who dared approach him.
"Ahh, Gabriel. Good to see you again. I believe your taxes are due, come to pay them? That's a good lad..."
He blatantly ignored my question. So I asked again.
"Ravennekah. Girl who runs the fruit stand on Hive street. Where. Is. She?"
Kurd just laughed.
"DRINK GIRL! FETCH ME ALE!" he yelled. And then I saw her. She was in chains. The clothes she was wearing was barely enough to cover her lithe form. She was caked in mud, and her eyes cast down. She was holding a plate of drinks as she walked through the alleyway. As she did a large group of Kurd's men began to cat-call her. Some of them even groped at her bottom as she walked, finally sauntering up to Kurd and offering him his drink. She looked up, just long enough, for her eyes to meet mine. I could see her fear, and her despair.
She showed me her despair...and I responded by showing my rage.
She mouthed the words to me "No, Gabriel, Please..."
But her pleas fell upon deaf ears. All I could see was red. All I had was my fury.
I had taken my time walking into this alley. Three men, other than Kurd. Two of which flanked him on either side. One of which worked as his "doorman" to the Alleyway, making sure that only those Kurd allowed could step into his "office" to talk. Part of being a thief in Luskan was learning how to case a joint. Not just for theft. Memorizing patrol patterns. Analyzing potential breach points. But this allowed me a natural knack for something else:
Analyzing weaknesses.
The Doorman to the alley was partly deaf in his right ear and blind in his right eye. He leaned forward to talk to people, keening his head to the right in order to get a better look at people with his good eye and listen with his good ear. This meant attacking him from the right side would be striking at his blind spot.
The man to Kurd's left had a peg-leg, and kept himself standing with a crutch. Moving into his left would render him unable to parry a solid blow to the neck.
The man to Kurd's right was, by far, his most trusted and capable lieutenant. His weapons were sheathed, and he had no visible weak-points. This meant, of course, that he would have to be the first to go. Kurd himself didn't have a weapon. Why would he? This was his "office" and he had his goon squad to protect him.
Despite my fury, despite my uncontrollable rage, I retained one important thing. My ability to THINK. In fact, sometimes, I think too quickly. "Hyperactivity" my shrink called it. But my hyperactivity was my advantage in this situation. My ability to react is like a cats. My ability to make snap decisions is almost instinctual.
The Lieutenant was the first to die. A single, precise strike to his carotid artery sent his blood spraying like a fountain all over Kurd's face and his table. Fortune was on my side this day, as the torrent of bloodspray hit Kurd's eyes, blinding him for that one, key moment that prevented him from reacting.
The lackey to his left was the next to die. Just as soon as I pulled the blade from the Lieutenant's wound I hurled the knife across at him, which struck him directly in the heart. Before he could even scream he was on the ground in a pool of his own blood.
Two down. Two to go.
As the Lieutenant was still falling to the ground after his fatal injury I reached forth and drew the shortsword from his belt. The Doorman had just enough time to turn around and scream before the blade came down upon his head and split it open like a freshly cut melon.
Kurd, blinded by the blood spray in his eyes, reached forward to grab me. But I had been used to the failed grapple attempts by the city guards who had tried, and failed, to catch me before. I ducked under the hulking Goliath's grip and rolled, pulling my silver dagger from the chest of the fallen lackey. Kurd swung, wildly, but hit only air.
It was then that I leaped. Like a Lion stalking a gazelle in the Savannah of the Western Heartlands I pounced upon Kurd, and with a single, surgically precise strike I plunged the dagger into his Xiphoid Process, just between his ribs, and upward into the ventricle of his heart. The lumbering behemoth fell over back into his chair, and leaned back. I couldn't see his eyes, no, not because of the blood that was in them...but I knew the deed was done.
I had no clue what had possessed me in that moment. No clue what Demon I had brought forth into this world...but I had killed four people in the span of no more than eight seconds. I didn't think such a thing was possible for a 13 year old boy...but it was. I gazed at Ravennekah, covered in blood....and I smiled at her.
...but there was no smile from her. There was only horror. Horror at the monster she had witnessed. Trembling, she dropped the plate of drinks. I stepped towards her, my hand outstretched....a hand covered in blood. She recoiled from my touch, cowering into the corner of the alleyway. I heard her wretch, and vomit, and then I heard her begin to cry.
"Raven..." I said to her. "Raven, I was worried, I came to help you..."
"What have you done..?" she whimpered. "Gabriel...what have you done...?"
"I...I was trying to save you..." I stammered.
"There...there is no saving me now....don't you see, Gabriel? You just killed a Pirate Captain's Street Lieutenant...."
"Yes...yes I did. To save you..." I replied.
"No, Gabriel....they're going to kill me now. They're going to think it was my fault...they're going to kill you, they're going to kill me, they're going to kill our families and our friends.."
"I won't let that happen!" I yelled. "I will protect you..."
"You can't protect me, Gabriel...." Ravennekah said to me. "It's...it's all over..."
It was then that she reached down to the ground, and picked up the Lieutenant's sword that I had used to kill the doorman.
"Raven...what are you doing!?" I exclaimed to her. "Raven....no...please...I love you."
It was then, in that moment, that Raven, my sweetest, dearest Raven, gave me one last, final smile.
"I loved you once.." she said to me. Tears streamed down her face. Her once sapphire eyes now red. Her once beautiful smile now a cry of despair. "....but I can't love a monster."
It was then, in that moment, that she took that blood-stained sword, put it to her neck, and slit her own throat. She fell to the ground, now drowning in a river of her own crimson blood.
"NO!" I cried. I lunged forward to her, to catch her as she fell. I gazed into her dying eyes as the blood began to fill her lungs, as she coughed and sputtered.
I watched her drown. I felt her die. And there was nothing I could do about it.
She loved me. But she couldn't live in a world where the man she loved was a monster. She couldn't bear to know that the buck-toothed boy who had smiled and made her laugh was capable of such violence, such unbridled and uncontrollable rage.
I held her lifeless body in my arms for what seemed like an eternity. I felt her go from warm to cold. I could have drowned myself in my tears that day. My innocence was gone. That buck-toothed boy was no more. He died with her. There weren't going to be any more smiles for me. No more laughter. No more joy. No more love. It died with my sweet, sweet Raven. Tracing my fingers through that gorgeous, crimson hair I decided, in that moment, that life was not life without her.
I reached into my bag and pulled out the last apple she had given me. It was starting to decay. It had died. Just like her. My sweet sweet Raven was just like that apple: Once beautiful and crimson...but now dead. And even though I myself had not plunged the sword into her throat it was me who had killed her. All in one moment. One moment of rage had ended the one woman that I could ever truly say that I loved.
I picked up my silver dagger that she had given me. It would be fitting, I thought, that the most beautiful gift that anyone had ever given me should be the tool of my own undoing. I put the dagger to my throat, and I closed my eyes. I knew that whatever damnation that I was about to face I had deserved. The Gates of Hell opened that day, ready for another soul to be delivered. I don't know why I hesitated. Perhaps there was some faint glimmer of hope? Perhaps there was some thought, however insignificant, that "things might be okay..."
...but I couldn't do it. I had lost everything. The Pirates would surely kill me and my family. I had no friends to which I could turn. There is no legitimate reason that I can think of that I should not have died that day at my own hand. But I just...couldn't. I traced the dagger across my neck, the tiniest drop of blood running down my throat until SOMETHING compelled me to pull it away.
Covered in the blood of my first victims I stole away into the night. I stowed away on a boat in Luskan that night. I spent three weeks hidden in the cargo bay of a ship until it finally arrived in the city of Thesk. Three long, silent weeks. I didn't eat. I drank only what remains of rum I could find there in the hold. I had no company, except for my thoughts. Noone to hold...except a blood-stained, silver dagger.
I'm going to let you in on a little secret, boys and girls. I still have that dagger. I sleep with it...every night. Not just to have a weapon in my bed...but so that I never forget.
Every night, before I sleep, I symbolically trace the dagger across my throat. And everytime I do I think to myself "Do I have a reason to wake up tomorrow?" I try to think of one, just one. It doesn't have to be anything spectacular. Perhaps I'd like to see a new sight tomorrow. Perhaps go somewhere I've never been. Do something I've never done. Meet somebody new.
I came to accept myself. That dealing Death was my greatest talent in this world. That killing was my reason for living. I'm not an artistic person. I can't draw. I can't paint. I can't sculpt.
Killing is my art. Blood is the oil I use to paint a picture of the dark and twisted world in which we live.
Some call what we do "Murder." To me...Assassination is a public service. There are, quite simply, people in this world that need to die in order to make the world a better place. People who think they are above the law. People who think that they can use the down-trodden.
Assassination is my meditation. My Zen. Bringing death to others makes me feel better about my own life. It gives me purpose.
But one thing I learned from a very wise man: "If you're good at something, NEVER do it for free..."
And that's why Assassination is my business, boys and girls. Because I'm good at it. And if you're good at something there's no reason not to get paid for it.
...and Business is Booming.
THE END!!!!
So we've had a few laughs. We've told a few stories. We've shared a few thoughts and ideas. So I've given you the "how" of Assassination...but I haven't given you perhaps the most important aspect. The "Why."
Why do you do this Geist? Why do you kill people? Do you enjoy it? Do you feel as though you are fulfilling your life's mission? Is there a reason that you are drawn to the blood? is there a reason you feel that Death is the thing you deal best in life?
I'm going to tell you a little bit about me, and why I think the way I think.
I was born Gabriel Nightveil, in the year 1325 in the city of Luskan. My father was a ship captain. My mother was a bar wench that served in the local tavern in my neighborhood. Life was very tough for me growing up. We didn't have a lot of money. My father liked to drink. A lot. My mother considered me more of a burden than an actual child.
As with many of the children in Luskan: I was hungry. And a hungry kid does desperate things. I stole. I stole a lot. Fishing through other people's pockets came as naturally to me as fishing the waters came for my father. I spent a lot of time on the boat, learning how to tie knots, how to fish, how to bait a hook. I spent more time on boats than dry land as a child.
Luskan is a city ruled by Pirates. More specifically the four Pirate Captains. I don't remember their names: They changed ranks so many times due to mutinies that their names are forever forgotten to the dregs of history. But I know that one of those captains had a thing for my mother. I believe, though have never actually proven, that my mother was forced to sell her body on multiple occasions in order to put food on our table.
You know how they say you never forget your first love? It's true. But you also never forget your first kill. For me, however, I had the scorn of Fate itself that mine just happened to be one and the same.
Her name was Ravennekah. An angel sent from on high. Her face is, perhaps, the one image that is seared into my mind forever. I remember her so vividly. The smell of her hair...she washed it with soap made of apples. Her skin was as pale as snow. Her hair crimson as the sunset. Her eyes were as blue as the deep waters of the Luskan Harbor. I'll never forget her. I'd never want to.
I was 12 years old when we first met. I tried to steal an apple from her fruit stand. I was a good thief, I had stolen countless apples, countless loaves of bread, countless racks of ribs...I could have almost gotten Fat if I didn't spend so much time running for my life in the Luskan Markets. But one day I slipped. I happened to reach for an apple at the exact same time that she did. Our hands touched, mine on top of hers. Our eyes met. I was no mage, but, in that moment I stopped time. A heartbeat that lasted for an eternity. Gazing into the infinity that was the depth of her eyes I felt, in that moment, that my life had long since been empty without her in it. She smiled at me with those rose-colored lips and uttered words that I'll never forget. "Just take it. You can pay me with a smile."
And I did. I smiled. My teeth were yellow, and crooked, but she didn't care. She smiled back at me with those pearls and in that moment I knew she was the one for me. There is nothing so pure, so innocent as the love that one feels as a child. Not lust. Not impure desire. Love. Pure, unfettered love. A thing that, no matter how rich or powerful one becomes noone could ever buy. I took the apple from her, and stole away into the night. I didn't dare eat it. I kept that apple until it rotted, because of how beautiful both it and she was.
I stole an apple. But she stole my everything. Had she asked it I would have torn my still-beating heart out of my chest and placed it in her hands...for it belonged to her already.
Every day I went back to her fruit stand. And everyday always the same: "Just take it. It's only an apple. You can pay me with that beautiful smile." But one day she gave me something special. A dagger. A dagger in-laiden with Silver. "Something to peel your apples with, silly!" she said. I kept that dagger for my entire life. I still have it.
And I did. Again, and again, and again. Every day a smile for her. I even practiced in the mirror. I'd smile in different ways, different angles. Sometimes a smirk, sometimes a giant smile where I showed all of my yellow teeth. She laughed at those. Her laugh was the world to me.
But one day she didn't show up. I had practiced a big buck-toothed smile to show my dearest Ravennekah. Raven, I had called her for short. I sauntered up to her usual spot with that big dopey smile on my face..but my angel wasn't there.
"Where is Raven?" I asked the old woman who was standing there. "Where's my Raven? Is she sick today?"
But the old woman just looked at me, with a forlorn frown. She said nothing. But her silence spoke volumes.
"WHERE IS SHE!?" I demanded. My eyes were red. My cheeks were drowned.
"She...isn't coming back Gabriel." said the old woman with a tear. "She...she owed some people some money..and..."
That's all the woman had to say. I knew who to talk to. His name was Kurd. A local crime-boss who ran that particular area of the city. If anybody knew anything about any of the going's on in that area Kurd was the one to ask. Kurd's goon squad tended to shake down us thieves. "Operating Tax" in order to "work" their part of the city and stay on their good side.
So I took that Dagger that Raven had given me, hid it in my sleeve, and went to speak with Mr. Kurd. I approached his "base", a small little alley that smelled of piss and refuse. Moving past his armed muscle I looked Kurd in his face and asked him simply "Raven. Girl who ran the fruit stand. Where. Is. She?"
Kurd was a huge, imposing man. He wore an eye-patch as a "souvenir" from one such occasion where he disappointed one of the Pirate Captains of the City. He bore a series of tattoos and scars from years of life at sea as a pirate. Due to his age, and his numerous injuries, Kurd could no longer sail the open seas and spent his days running the streets, engaging in burglary and extortion. The man looked down at this little street urchin who dared approach him.
"Ahh, Gabriel. Good to see you again. I believe your taxes are due, come to pay them? That's a good lad..."
He blatantly ignored my question. So I asked again.
"Ravennekah. Girl who runs the fruit stand on Hive street. Where. Is. She?"
Kurd just laughed.
"DRINK GIRL! FETCH ME ALE!" he yelled. And then I saw her. She was in chains. The clothes she was wearing was barely enough to cover her lithe form. She was caked in mud, and her eyes cast down. She was holding a plate of drinks as she walked through the alleyway. As she did a large group of Kurd's men began to cat-call her. Some of them even groped at her bottom as she walked, finally sauntering up to Kurd and offering him his drink. She looked up, just long enough, for her eyes to meet mine. I could see her fear, and her despair.
She showed me her despair...and I responded by showing my rage.
She mouthed the words to me "No, Gabriel, Please..."
But her pleas fell upon deaf ears. All I could see was red. All I had was my fury.
I had taken my time walking into this alley. Three men, other than Kurd. Two of which flanked him on either side. One of which worked as his "doorman" to the Alleyway, making sure that only those Kurd allowed could step into his "office" to talk. Part of being a thief in Luskan was learning how to case a joint. Not just for theft. Memorizing patrol patterns. Analyzing potential breach points. But this allowed me a natural knack for something else:
Analyzing weaknesses.
The Doorman to the alley was partly deaf in his right ear and blind in his right eye. He leaned forward to talk to people, keening his head to the right in order to get a better look at people with his good eye and listen with his good ear. This meant attacking him from the right side would be striking at his blind spot.
The man to Kurd's left had a peg-leg, and kept himself standing with a crutch. Moving into his left would render him unable to parry a solid blow to the neck.
The man to Kurd's right was, by far, his most trusted and capable lieutenant. His weapons were sheathed, and he had no visible weak-points. This meant, of course, that he would have to be the first to go. Kurd himself didn't have a weapon. Why would he? This was his "office" and he had his goon squad to protect him.
Despite my fury, despite my uncontrollable rage, I retained one important thing. My ability to THINK. In fact, sometimes, I think too quickly. "Hyperactivity" my shrink called it. But my hyperactivity was my advantage in this situation. My ability to react is like a cats. My ability to make snap decisions is almost instinctual.
The Lieutenant was the first to die. A single, precise strike to his carotid artery sent his blood spraying like a fountain all over Kurd's face and his table. Fortune was on my side this day, as the torrent of bloodspray hit Kurd's eyes, blinding him for that one, key moment that prevented him from reacting.
The lackey to his left was the next to die. Just as soon as I pulled the blade from the Lieutenant's wound I hurled the knife across at him, which struck him directly in the heart. Before he could even scream he was on the ground in a pool of his own blood.
Two down. Two to go.
As the Lieutenant was still falling to the ground after his fatal injury I reached forth and drew the shortsword from his belt. The Doorman had just enough time to turn around and scream before the blade came down upon his head and split it open like a freshly cut melon.
Kurd, blinded by the blood spray in his eyes, reached forward to grab me. But I had been used to the failed grapple attempts by the city guards who had tried, and failed, to catch me before. I ducked under the hulking Goliath's grip and rolled, pulling my silver dagger from the chest of the fallen lackey. Kurd swung, wildly, but hit only air.
It was then that I leaped. Like a Lion stalking a gazelle in the Savannah of the Western Heartlands I pounced upon Kurd, and with a single, surgically precise strike I plunged the dagger into his Xiphoid Process, just between his ribs, and upward into the ventricle of his heart. The lumbering behemoth fell over back into his chair, and leaned back. I couldn't see his eyes, no, not because of the blood that was in them...but I knew the deed was done.
I had no clue what had possessed me in that moment. No clue what Demon I had brought forth into this world...but I had killed four people in the span of no more than eight seconds. I didn't think such a thing was possible for a 13 year old boy...but it was. I gazed at Ravennekah, covered in blood....and I smiled at her.
...but there was no smile from her. There was only horror. Horror at the monster she had witnessed. Trembling, she dropped the plate of drinks. I stepped towards her, my hand outstretched....a hand covered in blood. She recoiled from my touch, cowering into the corner of the alleyway. I heard her wretch, and vomit, and then I heard her begin to cry.
"Raven..." I said to her. "Raven, I was worried, I came to help you..."
"What have you done..?" she whimpered. "Gabriel...what have you done...?"
"I...I was trying to save you..." I stammered.
"There...there is no saving me now....don't you see, Gabriel? You just killed a Pirate Captain's Street Lieutenant...."
"Yes...yes I did. To save you..." I replied.
"No, Gabriel....they're going to kill me now. They're going to think it was my fault...they're going to kill you, they're going to kill me, they're going to kill our families and our friends.."
"I won't let that happen!" I yelled. "I will protect you..."
"You can't protect me, Gabriel...." Ravennekah said to me. "It's...it's all over..."
It was then that she reached down to the ground, and picked up the Lieutenant's sword that I had used to kill the doorman.
"Raven...what are you doing!?" I exclaimed to her. "Raven....no...please...I love you."
It was then, in that moment, that Raven, my sweetest, dearest Raven, gave me one last, final smile.
"I loved you once.." she said to me. Tears streamed down her face. Her once sapphire eyes now red. Her once beautiful smile now a cry of despair. "....but I can't love a monster."
It was then, in that moment, that she took that blood-stained sword, put it to her neck, and slit her own throat. She fell to the ground, now drowning in a river of her own crimson blood.
"NO!" I cried. I lunged forward to her, to catch her as she fell. I gazed into her dying eyes as the blood began to fill her lungs, as she coughed and sputtered.
I watched her drown. I felt her die. And there was nothing I could do about it.
She loved me. But she couldn't live in a world where the man she loved was a monster. She couldn't bear to know that the buck-toothed boy who had smiled and made her laugh was capable of such violence, such unbridled and uncontrollable rage.
I held her lifeless body in my arms for what seemed like an eternity. I felt her go from warm to cold. I could have drowned myself in my tears that day. My innocence was gone. That buck-toothed boy was no more. He died with her. There weren't going to be any more smiles for me. No more laughter. No more joy. No more love. It died with my sweet, sweet Raven. Tracing my fingers through that gorgeous, crimson hair I decided, in that moment, that life was not life without her.
I reached into my bag and pulled out the last apple she had given me. It was starting to decay. It had died. Just like her. My sweet sweet Raven was just like that apple: Once beautiful and crimson...but now dead. And even though I myself had not plunged the sword into her throat it was me who had killed her. All in one moment. One moment of rage had ended the one woman that I could ever truly say that I loved.
I picked up my silver dagger that she had given me. It would be fitting, I thought, that the most beautiful gift that anyone had ever given me should be the tool of my own undoing. I put the dagger to my throat, and I closed my eyes. I knew that whatever damnation that I was about to face I had deserved. The Gates of Hell opened that day, ready for another soul to be delivered. I don't know why I hesitated. Perhaps there was some faint glimmer of hope? Perhaps there was some thought, however insignificant, that "things might be okay..."
...but I couldn't do it. I had lost everything. The Pirates would surely kill me and my family. I had no friends to which I could turn. There is no legitimate reason that I can think of that I should not have died that day at my own hand. But I just...couldn't. I traced the dagger across my neck, the tiniest drop of blood running down my throat until SOMETHING compelled me to pull it away.
Covered in the blood of my first victims I stole away into the night. I stowed away on a boat in Luskan that night. I spent three weeks hidden in the cargo bay of a ship until it finally arrived in the city of Thesk. Three long, silent weeks. I didn't eat. I drank only what remains of rum I could find there in the hold. I had no company, except for my thoughts. Noone to hold...except a blood-stained, silver dagger.
I'm going to let you in on a little secret, boys and girls. I still have that dagger. I sleep with it...every night. Not just to have a weapon in my bed...but so that I never forget.
Every night, before I sleep, I symbolically trace the dagger across my throat. And everytime I do I think to myself "Do I have a reason to wake up tomorrow?" I try to think of one, just one. It doesn't have to be anything spectacular. Perhaps I'd like to see a new sight tomorrow. Perhaps go somewhere I've never been. Do something I've never done. Meet somebody new.
I came to accept myself. That dealing Death was my greatest talent in this world. That killing was my reason for living. I'm not an artistic person. I can't draw. I can't paint. I can't sculpt.
Killing is my art. Blood is the oil I use to paint a picture of the dark and twisted world in which we live.
Some call what we do "Murder." To me...Assassination is a public service. There are, quite simply, people in this world that need to die in order to make the world a better place. People who think they are above the law. People who think that they can use the down-trodden.
Assassination is my meditation. My Zen. Bringing death to others makes me feel better about my own life. It gives me purpose.
But one thing I learned from a very wise man: "If you're good at something, NEVER do it for free..."
And that's why Assassination is my business, boys and girls. Because I'm good at it. And if you're good at something there's no reason not to get paid for it.
...and Business is Booming.
THE END!!!!
Chaos is relative. What is normal for the Spider is Chaos for the Fly.