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[Wiros Bismove]

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He crept along the shadows, unheard and unseen. That was apart of his life style, to keep to the shadows, and to strike when the prey was unaware. He wouldn’t strike anyone, only those that he was paid to kill. For he was an assassin, bread to kill and to react on instincts.

This night he found himself in Umbra, along with many nights prior to that. Wandering the streets, each night was more dangerous than the others. A dark fog floated around the well near Charnelhill, it killed all those that neared it. Fires had recently erupted around certain buildings in Umbra, adding on to the danger.

This night was different, there seemed to be more color in the town, and more activity. He followed the group of mounted folk around, being lead from building to building. He was not about to approach them, until he finally figured out who they were. It had taken a bit of time, but he had recognized a few from The Regency. Some were there the same night Molly was assassinated. He chuckled for a moment, being lost in the thoughts of watching her fumbled from the unicorn.

The Regency had reached the healers, apparently the worst part of the somber city. He walked casually, which was unnoticed beside the wall. Coming around the corner he spoke suddenly, catching a few off guard.

“Finally, someone has come to help these people. It’s not safe around here anymore”

“From who?” Nazaltre replied.

“From the damned group who keeps burning the buildings down.”

Thud an arrow struck Wiros in the back. He moaned quietly and spun around to face to face of the assassin, but he wasn’t able to turn. Thud another arrow took him in the back. He smirked slightly, realized he was caught off guard. The first rule of being an assassin, don’t get caught with your pants down. It was one of the rules at least. Thud a third arrow shot him to the ground. He caught a glimpse of the killer, what he saw horrified him. It was no assassin it wasn’t even human.

Reaching down to the body many black tendrils came out to sink into the tainted ones back. With little resistance from the weakened soul, the horrid colors fade and turn gray. Slowly the ghostly form of the formal body rose and took shape of a shadow wraith.

The new shadow wraith and the original floated into the shadows. Following the group once more. Not killing any, just stalking. It was a new beginning.
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