Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-32663439-20150625151152/@comment-25038310-20150701203239

As a small fraction of the crowd left the arena, Pontius saw his chance to head to the bathroom and hopefully escape the assassin that was on his tail. As some people passed his seat, he blended in with them and started heading to the exit of the arena.

The assassin would most likely expect him to exit the arena, although he would instead flee to the bathrooms and hopefully lose him there.

As he almost reached the exit going down the hallway leading to the exit, he suddenly took a right and opened the door to the bathrooms. He waited there for minutes before sighing of relief, leaning against one of the bathroom stalls.

He started heading for the door again, thinking he had lost the assassin. However, that very same assassin was standing in the door opening, and started walking towards him.

The nobleman attempted to scream, although his face collided with a punch before he could scream for help or do anything else. His jaw instantly dislocated, as he fell agains the crowd.

While the nobleman fell on the ground, grunting and moaning, Randell locked the door of the bathroom and started opening the stalls and checking the urinals, to see if anyone was in there with him. When he spotted nooone, he grinned under his mask. Pontius looked at one of the security cams, only to notice that a picture of some sorts had been placed in front of it. Planned out.

"Ah. Pontius Pilatus. Esteemed noble of Whiterun Hold. Unfortunately, even though you have such a fancy title.. noone's going to miss you." Randell muttered.

"Wh-wh..whret de ye ... wahnt?" The nobleman asked, holding his jaw while he looked up at the frightening figure.

"Simple. Don't pretend you did not expect this, Pontius. You deal skooma around here.. Even though you did a lot to hide your tracks, you have to remember.. there's no track that can be truly, permanently erased.."

The nobleman winced, starting to grab one of his pistols that were concealed under his robe.

"Ah, Pontius.. I'm afraid you'll meet your end here." He said.

"Fhuck ophh!" The nobleman cried, pointing his pistol at the man. However, a swift and accurate kick of Randell managed to jamm his fingers and make him drop the pistol. Before Pontius could grab the firearm again, the pistol was kicked away.

"No no no, Pontius. Sorry. That sealed it." Randell grabbed the nobleman by his throat, as he slowly started applying pressure. A small struggle commenced, although Pontius' resistance swiftly diminished until his heartbeat stopped and his neck snapped.

Randell dropped the nobleman against the floor, sighing. He started moving the body to one of the stalls, and placed the man on the seat. He locked the door from the inside, as he hopped over the  stall's door, leaving it locked.

He grabbed the late nobleman's pistol from under a urinal, and unlocked the door leading to the bathroom. He started heading for the exit of the arena now that things were barely getting noticed. It would take awhile for anyone in the bathroom to notice that the man sitting in a locked stall was actually dead, and when that was found out he would be long gone. No tracks. No fingerprints. Nothing. Noone knew him. No suspicioun.