Before There Was Braveheart

Chapter I: The Assassin

The sinner sat, alone.

At the corner of a rowdy tavern filled with drunken morons, he continued to sip his vodka with a judging stare.

He never liked this kind of environment.

But, since it was for a commission, he didn't exactly have that much of a choice.

The tables were packed with groups of townspeople who were drinking beer while chatting their worries away. The barkeep was busy wiping the used glasses, while his wife took care of the customers' orders.

The tavern was bustling with energy.

Out of all the unique stories that the townspeople were blabbering about, his ears were fixated on only one conversation.

It was a conversation between two odd-looking people. The first person was wearing a black hooded cloak, while the second person was wearing an eccentric colour palette.

He had no idea who the first person was, but he had a feeling that the second person was of high status, a noble perhaps. Judging from his terrible taste in choosing colours.

The two sat at a table near where he was sitting, far from prying ears. They seemed to be talking about some kind of deal.

He lowered his head to the table, pretending to be a drunkard who passed out.

"Preparations are ready, I presume?" the hooded figure asked.

"Of course, sir," the eccentric figure answered with a crooked smile, "The ritual is ready, all we need is your guidance."

"And as promised, here is your payment."

The hooded figure gave his partner a bag filled with coins.

"50 gold coins," he said, "As a symbol of gratitude for your patronage."

"50?!" the eccentric figure yelled out of rage, "That's only half of our original deal!"

The hooded figure's eyes began to glow a terrifying shade of red as he leaned in closer to his partner.

"Keep your voice down," he said threateningly, "Or I will use you as a sacrifice."

The eccentric figure could only tremble in fear.

The hooded figure leaned back in satisfaction.

"Good. Now," he said, "You may leave."

The eccentric figure swiftly got up from his seat before scurrying out of the tavern.

The hooded figure soon followed suit, a few steps behind his partner.

The sinner waited for a few seconds before pulling up his hood, covering his silky black hair. He straightened his black leather coat and fixed the collar of his white shirt before dusting off the dirt on his blood-red vest.

The barkeep's wife was startled when he suddenly tossed a few gold coins at her.

"Vodka," he said, "This should cover it."

The barkeep's wife managed to catch the coins in time.

"Goodness, I didn't even hear you approach!" the barkeep's wife exclaimed, "Your boots must be very high quality."

He was about to leave when the barkeep's wife suddenly grabbed him by the coat.

"Before you go," she said in a hushed tone, "There have been a lot of murders in Stadtbergen for more than a month! Not only that, but a few people have also gone missing. I don't exactly know who's behind this, but they're all saying that a person who goes by the name Solovey has something to do with it."