Mortred

Irata Glavenis

Irata Glavenis is a man of wealth. This room—which appears to be a room where the fae lord conducts most of his trades and the like—is littered with all sorts of riches. The tapestries lining the wall behind him were threaded with gold. The wooden floors were covered with expensive-looking, plush rugs. Even the can holding his quills were gold. Yet none of these will save him from his divine fate. His name was written on the floor in blood when the Sisters prayed upon the Veil—and only his death will erase his name from their sacred room.

Hidden in the shadows at the corner of Glavenis' study, the Phantom Assassin watched and studied her prey. A clean, quick death; that is what the Veiled Ones promises to anyone who would be lucky enough to have their name picked to accept the honor—and so a clean, quick death she shall deliver.

Glavenis appeared to be reading from some sort of aged scroll, its edges glimmering gold in the soft candlelight on his large wooden desk. He was humming to himself, oblivious to the death hovering near him. With that many guards, the man must not feel the need to fear for his safety. They say Glavenis whispers in the ears of King Kwerthas, one of the three kings of Revtel. He was not officially an advisor to the king, yet his riches have been so magnanimous that he has sway over the royal court.

The candlelight beside the fae lord flickered, and the Assassin knew that it must be a sign from the Veil to take action. She unsheathed a dagger from her thigh, and with a flick of her wrist, sent it flying towards Glavenis. It him in the eye, yet the Phantom Assassin put just enough force for it to pierce and hurt, not kill. She blinked—a short-ranged teleportation the Sisters of the Veil grants upon the Phantom Assassins—towards him, appearing before the fae lord even before he could realize he had been struck. She was just a few milliseconds slower than her own dagger, though she could be faster than it if she wished to.

Irata Glavenis' good eye widened, no doubt realizing what was about to happen. He was still stuck on his seat, eye bleeding out, but before he could scream for his guards, the Phantom Assassin bent and whispered on his ear,

"Death at my hands is an honor."

Then she struck with her two-and-a-half feet long double-edged blade, decapitating Glavenis. His blood sprayed on his gold-threaded tapestry, and then he was no more.