Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-29461586-20150301192956/@comment-25038310-20150301222121

Not the means, but results.

Those were the words he had lived by all his life. Still does. He was an assassin - a thief, a womanizer. A honeyed tongue, a sharp dagger, and a hand that could snatch pouches of money in a single sweep.

His abilities as a Masked-Eye were extroardinary. But he could never get as close to his ancestor. The first Masked-Eye. He was far from it. Too far.

He walked down the wooden halls of the mansion, observing the carvings in the wood that depicted a Masked-Eye stabbing the back of an enemy, who commanded an army. He had looked upon it before - it symbolized an ancestor of the Masked-Eyes choosing to dishonorably murder the general of an army and making the army itself stand down, and so, sparing many lives and preventing unnecessary bloodloss on both sides.

It was a myth, although the strategy was used several times and actually worked. The Masked-Eyes weren't out for blood after all. On the contrary, they wished to wipe out all of the conflict of the world.

Jack was entrusted with this mission, but when the masks turned out to create the exact opposite of it, he had to return and gather the armies of the Masked-Eyes and all the hundreds of branches throughout Tamriel...

Dishonor. Honor. Ideals he sometimes confused with eachother. Ideals he sometimes didn't believe to exist. He was puzzled everytime he started thinking about it.

He walked down the long hallway, which ended up in a luxurious training hall. A private training hall, only aimed for use by the offspring of Marcus Masked-Eye himself.

Jack observed each and every one of them, sometimes greeting them with a nod and a smile.

A raven haired assassin was sparring with a blonde haired assassin. Th were both clad in casual grey and black leather armor with small lightweight ebony shoulderpads, armed with ebony swords.

Jaffina and Sarah Masked-Eye. Jack's dear sisters. They both looked up for a moment, waving at Jack. They tended to be gruff and silent, although most of the time they were just as enthousiastic. They continued sparring, although they seemed to be evenly matched.

Jack looked to the right of them, and saw Rudolf Masked-Eye practicing with his crossbow. An explosive junkie, but a silent and deadly personality. Jack felt abit uncomfortable when he was around this one of his brothers. Rudolf tended to be as silent as a brick, although his own style of fighting differed from his personality. See, the bolts that Rudolf used were crafted by himself. Explosive ones.

He fired one of the bolts at a stone wall that was used as a target on the other side of the hall. The wall was specifically built for Rudolf himself, for people feared he was going to burn down the mansion itself with his explosions.

The bolt hit the wall, which resulted in a small sized explosion that made the ground quake for less than a second. After the explosion, traces of both shock and fire magic were left behind.

Jack looked around. Antoine and the rest of the siblibgs were gone. Probably off doing an assignemt or training somewhere else.

He continued walking along the hall, opening a door that led into a hallway, which ended up in a dimly lit room at the end of it.

Voices. Booming voices could be heard as Jack silently walked further.

The conference room of the Masked-Eyes. A room where there were about fifty people, all emissaries that were discussing the war that was about to come. Khajits, Argonians, Nirds, Bretons, Redguards.. no racism or discrimination amongst thieves and assassins.

A shadow stood from the table when Jack entered, on the other side of the room. Everyone in the room followed his example.

"Jack. You're here, at last." The figure spoke.

Jack nodded, as he mentioned everyone to sit down as he took a seat himself.

"Please, my friends, continhe and do not mind my presence." He said, smiling.