Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20151108001053/@comment-5583506-20151108043814

Danric knew that his hands were dirty. They were stained with blood of countless of people, ranging from young and old, men and women, beggars and nobles. Yet nothing made him feel quite as dirty and disgusted as the ringing sound of being mistaken for aristocracy.

"Please, don't", he muttered and headed back up again.

At least now he had some directions to orientate his way to the Keep. He assumed that to prevent possible encounters with questioning guards, he would have to take the way over the rooftops. A quite common path for the everyday assassin, but common for a good reason.

He walked up the stairs to the roof of the inn, gazing out over the city and watched as the ash fell in a cruel mockery of snow. Calculating the innkeepers description he was able to find the keep, but then again it was quite easy to keep track off, even from a distance.

Tonight would be the best time to strike. Perhaps it didn't have to take such a long time for him to finish his assignment after all?