Rain fell in abundance, the leaves of the surrounding trees catching the drops, sending loud smacking noises throughout the night air.
A figure wandered down a winding path that was walled on all sides by sinister winding branches and gnarled foliage.
The figure was cloaked; hiding it’s warped features- if it kept the hood up, no onlooker would be aware that the figure was a witch. Not that there were any onlookers. The location the witch had chosen was well away from any towns or villages.
The witch finally came to a stop in a clearing. She glanced around for a moment, and then pulled her hood down, revealing her hideous face. Then, she reached into her cloak and revealed a small wooden flute.
She placed the flute to her mouth, and blew into it. The sound wasn’t a sweet melody, however. In fact, there was no sound at all- no audible sound, at least. Only a small number of creatures would be aware of the noise- a droning growl, with concealed whispers within it.
She stopped playing it, and moved it clear from her face. Holding it at an arms length, she watched as it began to glow, ever so slightly, a deep, dark purple.
No less than five seconds later, the flute began to burn with color, and then disintegrated into nothing.
She grunted, and turned. She turned just in time to see something fall from above. The new arrival landed perfectly, and got to its feet.
It was an odd thing, fairly tall, every part of it concealed by a loose, ragged coat- not a single giveaway feature visible.
“Thank you for coming,” The witch said, her mouth contorting, trying to form the almost polite sentence.
The figure only nodded.
“The details of what the Master requires of you-”
“I serve no master,” The figure said. Its voice was odd, deep and somehow… disturbing.
The witch observed the person in front of her for a moment.
“I… apologize. The details are in here… along with half of your payment,” The witch explained, holding up a sack.
“Half?” The figure asked.
The witch nodded.
“Half now, half after you dispatch of your targets,”
The figure growled quietly for a moment, but then snatched the sack from the witch. He pulled the strings and opened it, looking at the few hundred gold coins within it. He then reached in and removed a small piece of crumpled paper.
He read it slowly, his concealed eyes moving over the scrawled lettering.
“Two Humans… an Elf… a Werewolf?” The figure spoke as he read, “I wasn’t aware that your kind had started to murder their own,”
The witch narrowed her eyes and hissed.
“This Lycan is not one of us. He has chosen the wrong side in the coming battle,” The witch said.
The figure tilted its head slightly, and then concealed the sack within its coat.
“Payment has been exchanged, I have the details,” He said, “I will leave for Nefern Dale tomorrow, and my targets wont live for much longer,”
The witch nodded, grinning, revealing the rotting, animal like teeth inside her mouth.
The figure, without one single word of farewell, bent down slightly, and jumped- disappearing into the trees above.
The witch smiled to herself again, even if the assassin didn’t manage to kill the Inquisitor and his allies, the newly formed army of Unholy would. And when she entered into the age of darkness, evil and sin, she would know that she played a part in the great Deadrick Blade’s downfall.
She would have revenge on the human who murdered her Mistress, Morag. The witch named Golog smiled once again.
Juhra would be pleased with her.