Chains of the Raven: Marks of Atonement

Chapter One: Infiltration

"Let no one stand in the way of your mission, kill only those necessary for its completion. The innocent and holy are to be respected as bystanders, they shall not be harmed." -Chain One of The Order

Thunder rumbled in the distance with the promise of an approaching storm.  A man wrapped in black cloak and armor stood precariously on the roof of The Black Goose, one of the oldest taverns in De' Strada. It stood as a monument of the trade and traditions of the city. It stood on its own with no buildings connecting to it. He overlooked the capital city of Halen Dur as it lay out before him like a map: analyzing potential paths through the market district's labyrinth. He needed the quickest and best route to his destination. The bitter cold rain lightly rapped at the man's hooded body. The Raven glanced upwards to observe the pattern of the winds and clouds. The sky above was dark as ominous clouds moved violently across what should have been a cool and clear afternoon sky. Heavy beads of liquefied ice landed on his wind-scarred cheeks and trickled down, getting caught in his cowl. The man's roost started to creak and groan from the wrathful gusts of the stinging wind, in fear of toppling to the cobblestone of the distant ground. 

"I have never known a better day to work." He shook his head, a small smile curving his lips in a crescent, a short, piteous laugh following afterward. 

It was the middle of the autumn months and even with the foreboding weather the civilians pitter-pattered about the streets, insects driven by the temptation of sweets and sugars. Today was the eve before one of the biggest festivals in De'Strada: the King's Banquet, a ceremony commemorating the king's coronation. This year it was special; it marked the 25th anniversary of The Great King's rule and the 150th year of The Rise of Halen Dur. In commemoration of the event, the King promised an audience with the shopkeepers and laymen of the city, 'In an attempt to further ourselves as a society.' With the luxurious dreams of finding comfort in the Grand Ballroom dancing in the minds of the townsfolk, the markets could not be any more crowded - or hectic. Bakers and chefs prepared their finest foods, while blacksmiths added the final polish that made their prized swords and armor shine brighter than the sun. The tailors were the busiest of all though: stitching and hemming the final touches on their customers' best dresses and formal wear.

Staring out over the crowd, Simon searched for the best possible path to his destination. Scanning the streets below he spotted some empty shipping crates stacked against a storage shed about thirty yards off that led to a chain of buildings all within a jump and a leap of each other. A quick smile darted across his otherwise stony face and soon vanished like a teasing spirit. He loved rooftops. It was a fun and quick challenge. Once aloft he could move at a much faster pace, luckily the people below would be too busy haggling for better deals to pay him any mind. Like an acrobat, Simon made his way from the roof, on to the walkway, reorientated himself, and then quicker than a raven's beady eyes became a shadow, weaving in-and-out of the thick crowd; his shoulder pack clasped securely in hand.

Even with his experience backing him, he found it difficult to move swiftly through the jumbled mess of civilians. His movements became hampered and sluggish, due in part to the hundred-odd last-minute shoppers trying to finish their last-minute bartering, made worse with the added help from the loathsome weather, souring everyone's mood and quickly washing away their already minuscule patience.

Growing irritated, he paused and took a quick glance at his surroundings making sure he hadn't veered off-course. The world is different when you aren't looking at it from aloft. Out of the corner of his eye, he located the crates and made his way to them. The man eased his way through the masses, ascended the boundary, and leaped on to the roof of the building. Quick and quiet he remained unnoticed by the townsfolk arguing with their merchants below. The acrobat hastened his pace once he had reached the landing and continued onto his destination.