Turncoat

Raid on the Revelry

In the Dagger Guild's Headquarters, in a slum area of London, festivities are happening to celebrate the birthday of their Guild Master, Yvonne. Her last name is unknown, even to her. Prism, a female operative walks up to Pier who is drinking gulps of wine in the corner.

"Drowning our sorrows in alcohol, are we? Put down the drink and come join the party!" "I have no interest in engaging in such revelry." "Come on, don't be like that Pier." "Leave me alone!" "Stop thinking about Eliza-no wait that's not it...uh, Elly, no..." "Eliose..." "Yes! That's it, leave her alone. Come, dance with me." "No." "I have expert skill with knifes, do you really want to reject a woman like me?" "Why am I here?" "Because you joined us. That's why." "No, I mean why am I still in London?" "Because you're an assassin." "No, I'm not. I'm a stealth operative for the English Crown. I would not slay anyone except in self-defense..." he trailed off, but Prism knew there was something else he was gonna say, and she knew what it was. "Or the man who shot Eliose..." she said, being proud of herself for getting the name right. Prism was never good with names. She was shocked she could even remember Pier. She couldn't remember his first name at all though, but no one called him Andrew anymore, not even himself. In his mind, Andrew was who he used to be. Now he is just Pier. "Dance with me, damn it!" she yelled. "Why...?" She leant over the table and kissed him. "That's why!" she exclaimed. Pier was shocked. That was last thing he expected from Prism. The two never usually get along at all.

He looked around for a few seconds, processing the scene. He couldn't understand their actions. Chugging beers for entertainment, (Pier only drank to forget Eliose. He hated the taste of alcohol. He abhorred the drink itself. But sometimes he had to, otherwise he would go mad.) dancing, people unnecessarily exchanging saliva by kissing when they weren't even partners. He didn't get it. He hated this place. But he needed to be occupied when the Crown had no operations for him. He had been with the English Crown for 3 years now. 3 years since his First Operation with Captain Eyword and he was already their second-best operative. The best was Mills. The two had put aside their differences and reluctantly work together now, but that's all. No friendship, just colleagues (if you will).

Gunshots.

The door was kicked in and shots began to fly across the room. Guild members dived for shelter, but many were hit. Most injured, some slain. Yvonne chucked a grenade (remember those old-fashioned renaissance grenades) and the explosion sent several attackers through the air. Wood from floor soared across the room and sharp bits of wood penetrated the skin of several people, including Prism, on her right side. Yvonne didn't care. She was heartless. That's what made her the best assassin in all of England. Perhaps all of Europe. Every member feared her. She had shot members before when they questioned orders. None lived to tell the tale. She was a vicious fatal wench. Those are were own words. Her preferred method of assassination is seduction, then slay when they least expect it. Like I said, heartless. Only been shot once in 11 years of fighting. She is 27. She's been an assassin since she was 16. But tonight, everything was about to change. She was shot several times in the abdomen. She fell to the ground, beginning to bleed out. Lying on the floor, one of the attackers approached her. "Warlock sends his regards." Then came a gun shot...