The sky melted with color of dying light as the sun gave way to night, and with it came an unerring sense of peace, tranquility, and created a serene mood for those driving along the outskirts of Gwaren. A two-way road curved and twisted along the mountainside like a quick-flowing river, long and winding, nearly endless. It was a perfect night for a drive, to get those nasty thoughts out of your head, and I took full advantage of the peace; calm skies, the gentle patter of rain against the windshield, and little to no chance of a storm, but along the coast-side one could never be too careful.

I leaned back in my seat, relaxed with a lazy grip on the wheel, head propped up on idle fingers, elbow jammed against the window, and my foot alleviated on the gas pedal. The beast I commanded was a Hummer, a large, black vehicle that owned the roads with every roar and purr of the motor. For the most part of the drive, I left myself in silence, only a few minutes ago had I let the radio play out a soft melody—so it was certainly peaceful, and in the still of the night most thoughts would be lost, or one could easily find themselves falling asleep.

Not I, of course. My gaze, while lax, remained locked ahead, and I was not about to look away for tonight was different than most nights.

I had a goal.

On the hunt, this trance I have fallen into kept my mind set on the objective, which only lay just ahead. Through the last spec of sun, a glint of metal caught my eye, and a sneer curled upon my lips. Patience gave way to fruition, as I slowly stepped on the gas, the great beast slowly gaining distance to another car—smaller, silver in color, and within that cold exterior was my 'prize'. The blue light of a radio illuminated what I could make out to be five silhouettes.

I had been told there would be only a few people inside, and that I likely would not be able to catch them before the outer city limits, but I found them.

Mission report: The target will be moving towards the northern side of Gwaren and will head inland to some nobles' party. She is a quite highly respected noble. Eliminate her, and anyone with her.

The sound of chilled pavement beneath the wheel brought me out of my thoughts, and I relented to giving a little pressure to the pedal. I wanted to make little trouble for myself almost as badly as I wanted to go ahead and execute the mission. Alas, I still had to wait for approval.

One moment my phone was in hand, swiping out a message to my superior—the next, I settled it in the cup holder next to me. My sneer dwindled the longer it took for any form of approval—Maker I hate waiting, why does he do this to me?

I pulled free a cigarette, held it between my teeth, and snapped my fingers for a small flame to light. A quick drag and my mind settled behind the slow exhale of smoke.

I edge on the gas again, inching the hulking metal beast closer to the silver spec in front of me. From what I can see, the people inside seem to be celebrating. Their driving pattern is solid, so none of them are intoxicated. From what the contract had told me, I had to find them before they got back to the city. I knew in the next few miles we'd be too close to the city limits for me to do my job, so I prayed that I'd get my answer soon.

As if on cue, the screen lit up next to me, automatically opening with the most beautiful word I would have waited to see all night.

Engage.

A sinister grin creased my lips as I adjusted my position, leaned forward, and placed both hands on the wheel. A deep rumble of a laugh warmed in my throat and with each second passing the rush of adrenaline sent a thrill down my spine.

Tonight is going to be fun.

The distance closed between our vehicles. I'd been doing this for half a mile; closing in, then backing off. I could see the passengers in back occasionally looking back at me when I got near. The terror in their eyes visible as blinding headlights enveloped their vehicle, and then I struck.

They hadn't seen it coming—or maybe they had, but unexpected as the great beast of a vehicle delivered a gracious 'bump' to the back fender. Within its shell, they jolted forward, the one seated in the middle quickly turned back and glared, eyes wide, mouth agape, and her middle finger aimed straight at me.

For a moment, I almost thought better of myself to feign a drunken state, or at least some fool who had startled himself awake... I let them pull ahead and gently curve off into the other lane, grinning wickedly as they sped off. Another moment passes as I took a lengthy drag of my cigarette, my lip curls into a sneer, and I wait.

And wait.

And wait.

"Oh woe is me, they'll get to town before I can do away with them," I tutted through a breath, "such a shame," the flash of an amber glare in the rearview mirror, "that they won't be able to make it to the party."

Screeching tires cut through the tranquil night and the first sound of metal on metal rang out. Their pitiful vehicle was no match for mine. The pathetic beep it made brought out a bitter laugh as the honking finally subsided. I believe they had finally figured out what was going on.

A simple game of 'who can drive faster'.

I won.

I forced my truck against theirs again, veering and slamming into the back wheel, pedal held firmly to the floor and with a final hit, they would spiral off. At least I wished they would have. Their car caught the tail end of the guard rail and they spun out but somehow managed to get back on the road again. I stared incredulously at the odd sight; for one, horribly confused as to how in the hells they managed to do that; and second, that I was losing them.

Shit!

Once more I tried to force my truck on them, cutting the wheel over a sharp turn and I just barely managed to hit and destroy the back wheel and their vehicle swerved precariously along the roadway. It was then that I realized that we were no longer near the ocean side and, in fact, now cloaked by trees. Over the grass they went, straight into the forest with the audible sound of their car hitting nearly everything in their path.

The sounds of things hitting my truck gave me all the more reason to hurry up and finish this job. I could follow them as long as I could—and I thought I had lost them again until up ahead, the crunch of metal hitting something hard; a tree maybe, and fire suddenly igniting—that meant they had stopped perhaps a little too quickly for my liking.

It only occurred to me that my brakes decided to give out maybe a few seconds before I slammed into their car. The sudden force of impact sent me forward, choked by the gracious seatbelt, I still ended up slamming head-first into the steering wheel and forced out a violent squawk of a noise that echoed in the sudden stillness of night.

"Ach… Fuck…" I hissed as I settled back in my seat and cradled my head for mere seconds as I blinked away blurred vision. I could barely see what was in front of me between a near shattered windshield and what looked like specks of blood.

I tasted metal.

Maker, it hurts.

I pulled my hood over my head, shadowing my eyes, waited a moment, then leaned over to the passenger side of the truck and fished up my rifle that I lovingly call Lilith. As I kicked down the door I caught sight of two women scrambling out of the wreckage; bloody and terrified.

The truck door slammed against a stone and the sound resonated in the pitch of the forest and as I cocked my rifle, all went still. The crackle of flames and the rolling boom of thunder seemed to be the only thing to break the silence.

Illuminated in a flash of lightning, these two looked as if they'd seen a demon. Like two deer trapped in headlights, their eyes wide, mouth open, and sheer terror radiating off of their bodies as my form stood before them.

I knew what they're thinking; who is this man? Who is this inhuman being with glowing eyes? I sneered as I loaded the gun and savored each passing second of them petrified with fear.

"Good evening, ladies." I purred, slowly moving towards them. I spat a good glob of blood out onto the grass and chuckled under my breath, "Lovely night, isn't it?"

My gaze flicked over to their car for a moment then locked straight on them. The woman I was after, and her companion sat together, one having broken her leg and the other one too scared to move. They were bloody, their dresses torn, and the dismayed look they sported gave me nothing but delight.

I tutted as I stalked towards them, finally urging them to scramble back.

"Such a mess, hm? Nothing like how you planned your evening to go, yeah?" I spoke softly and readied my gun.

"Y-you're a monster!" My target spat, holding her friends' hand tight as they both dragged themselves through the mud. "Please let us go! W-we'll do anything! What do you want!? Money? Sex? We can give you anything you want—we won't report this to the authorities—please let us go!" As tempting and as lovely as they and their offers were, I'm not one to be bribed.

Gun readied, I followed after them as they scramble to their feet and hobble away, my gaze quickly flicked to the car, and seeing no movement at that moment, I pulled the trigger.

Her friend went down first; her head obliterated by the first shot and her blood showering everything in front of her, my target included.

She stumbled and fell to her knees. I'm on her instantly, digging the heel of my boot firmly into her spine. Releasing Lillith, I reached into my coat and withdrew a pistol.

"Y'know. I don't actually know your name," says I, "I've seen your face before… Ssssomewhere…" She cries out as her bones crack and I press the barrel of the gun to her head.

I put more weight onto her back and she wheezes.

"Oh, I remember now." Finger on the trigger, gently squeezing it, "the lady Felicity Stannard; wife of a wealthy gem merchant, mother of five, and sister to a dead man and some bitch overseas." She gasps a sob, fingers kneading into the grass, muscles straining. "Don't worry." I crooned, "Your family is safe from the clutches of my guild. We only wanted your blood."

She starts to struggle, and with that I dropped my gun and grabbed her head with both hands. My grin twisting ever further and with a sudden jerk, the audible snap of bone was suddenly swallowed up by another boom of thunder and she lay limp in the grass. I stood, grabbed up my guns, and felt a sudden, sharp pain against the back of my head.

I stumbled, finding purchase against a tree and quickly turned just as the assailant swung again. The first hit disoriented me, and the second swing came down just short of my clavicle. A kick caught me in the gut and again I fell back, finding my hands empty and my gun abandoned several feet away. Once I had managed to gather myself I ducked for it.

Scrambling. His weight thrust against me and we were on the ground, fighting for hold of the grip. Whoever gets it—

BANG.

One shot.

Two shots.

One to the head.

I struggled to my feet, everything a blur, the sounds about me bringing forth a painful ache. Covered my ears and closed my eyes—nothing was making the pain stop!

I let loose another bullet at the deceased and scowled. I quickly reloaded the gun and made a mad dash towards the wreckage of their car and threw myself at a stumbling figure.

He didn't even have time to cry out with each bloody punch to his stupid face—and even after the final gurgling sound had subsided, I just kept punching. His skull caved in, and as the first backsplash caught my face, I finally halted mid swing. A breath released, I slowly looked over and he had something in his hands—something shiny.

Prying his fingers open I took the amulet—it seemed… It was a dragon? How curious… I fingered the open maw a moment, pressing my thumb against the metal teeth then quickly slipped it into my pocket.

That makes four. Now where's the last one?

I was met by a bloody grin as I peeked into the back window. The poor girls' smile half-faded behind bloody lips. Lucky me.

This makes five.

They're all dead.

Clean up had to be quick—and no doubt in my mind that there was going to be others coming after them when they don't show up—ugh—I gripped my stomach and hunch over, head spinning.

I composed myself after the wave of nausea passed and got to work; looting what I could, taking whatever money and jewelry they had and stuffing it in my pockets. I retrieved my rifle and set it back in my truck after I put all their bodies back into the tiny wreck.

There was no way I could move this thing all the way to the Cliffside, and there were no open paths that would make disposal any easier.

Leave no witnesses—no bodies. My boss had given me explicit instructions—and somehow I'd managed to make more work for myself—Muscles straining, I push my own vehicle as far back as I can, then got to work on trying to move theirs.

It took far longer than I wanted it to. With lack of knowledge of the immediate area, I'd almost made the fall first. A gracious tree saved my life and allowed me to propel the damaged small car over the edge. I watched with ragged breath as the metal corpse groaned and slid forth, crashing against the stone and outlying plants before it finally fell into the ocean below with the most beautiful sound I've ever heard.

Pain. Soaked to the briefs. Exhausted beyond belief, and stained with the blood of five, I fell back against a tree, panting and running my hand through my hair.

A normal man would hate himself—taking the lives of innocents. A normal man would feel remorse… A normal man… would not have done these things. He wouldn't do this. He wouldn't revel in death.

But I was never a normal man.

So I laughed.

I shouldered a small bag that I'd pilfered and started back towards my truck—knowing full well that the rain and beasts would take care of the bits of exploded brain and blood in the wood. The bits of metal were thrown over the Cliffside as well so there was no real worry there—

As I pulled myself back into my truck, it was then that I felt a warm trickle run down the middle of my face.

Right… I got hurt.

Forgot about that.

I suppose with the rush of adrenaline, I had all but completely ignored the fact that I was already injured.

Fuck it.

I spat out another mouthful onto the road and tried to get the tank of a vehicle to start. It sputtered to life (only just barely still kicking) and I pulled out onto the road once more with the crime scene in my rearview mirror.

She wouldn't last too long, I could already hear the life choking out of her—shit.

I needed to get back to the rendezvous point…I just hoped that I could make it with her intact.

Alas, it was not to be. Not even fifteen miles out, I had to pull over lest my beloved vehicle explodes with me inside. Ignition off and my jacket pulled tight around me, I stepped out into the cold night again. Looks like I will have to walk.

I collected what I could in a black duffel bag, my phone returned to my pocket, and whatever else I owned hidden away for safety, I started back towards Gwaren.

Now, living in Ferelden had its many disadvantages, what with bears and all sorts of insanities wandered the woods and backroads, you had to be prepared.

I followed the road. Freezing, by the time I had managed to grab up my phone (after numerous phone calls going unanswered) it had pretty much suffered enough water damage to not function.

Silence became maddening after being alone for such a long time—and in that silence I noticed that several cars had already passed me by (and fairly certain they had stepped on the gas to get as far away from me as possible).

My feet ached, I was pretty damn hungry, and in a mood far more foul than I'd started off with. Today has certainly gone to the dogs.

Just keep moving. I had to remind myself over and over the longer the trip seemed to drag on.

Screeching tires and bright headlights caught my attention and I halt dead in my tracks to wipe the water from my eyes. The window rolled down and I was met by the soft grey glow of my boss' eyes peering up at me from the back seat. The scent of something warm comes at me—hot chocolate—seemed to be drink of choice as he held it to his lips. He seemed shaken up for some reason, but I knew not why.

"There you are," says he, "I've been trying to get a hold of you for hours. Where have you been?"

"My phone died," I answer, "but the deed is done, Serah. Unfortunately my truck was also a casualty in the endeavor."

His eyes rolled back and he hummed in thought, motioning to the back of the jeep. The cab, as usual. It would appear that I was too bloody for his tastes, tonight, so I limped towards the back and finally hauled myself in, settling against sacks of whatever the hell they had. Illegal contraband or something.

By all means, I think grimly to myself, don't let me warm up in the truck, oh no by all means, let me catch my death out here.

But I couldn't really blame him. I'll be fine.

"We'll get your truck tomorrow, pet." I heard the exhaustion in his voice as the back of his hand gently rested against the window, "for now, we need to get you fixed up."

Silence followed when we headed back to town, my own mind betraying me as I fell asleep.

Every ounce of my body ached. The rain had let up significantly the further inland we went, but that was not going to make the aches cease. I had made the mistake of believing we'd have a smooth trip back when a sudden sharp swerve threw me to the other end of the cab, face first into more contraband.

"Damn it, Brennan!" I slammed my fist against the window and glare at the other sneering face in the mirror. When I looked back I saw the flash of a white stags' tail.

We'd nearly hit a deer.

A fucking deer.

"Really!?" I snarled, massaging the side of my jaw before I slowly settled back into a comfortable position.

Not letting that one go, Brennan.

If I had to kill again, Brennan is the first to go.

Fucker.

I wound up falling asleep again, no thanks for Brennan's exceptional driving capability but more due to my own complete exhaustion; the scenario of the contract playing over again and again in my head, each time being different methods of their destruction. All of which ended up with me as the victor—though I felt I could have killed them all in one go if I had just ran them off the road earlier, instead of antagonizing them—it wouldn't have been as fun, but certainly much more effective.

When I finally woke, my mind went back to the contract once again, who I had been assigned to kill; it had only been Felicity, but as fate has it, I had to kill the other four as well. Rules dictate that either you not be seen and take out the solo target as quickly as possible, which I failed in doing immensely, or kill the lot of them and leave no evidence. I was never privy as to why her death had been desired, then again, I never questioned orders. All that mattered was that she was dead, and I more or less completed the mission.

And I would get paid. That's always a bonus.

We pulled into a gas station several miles from the inner city. The truck shook and the soft sound of heels meeting the ground caught my attention. I turned just to see his face over the side of the truck, and without much need for invitation, I vaulted over to meet him.

Standing proper with his hands behind his back and a gentle smile on tired lips, he nodded to me and in turn, I smiled. He was an older man, about twenty or so years my senior. Slicked back hair peppered with age, grey eyes to match and a beard that rivaled my own. For a noble, he is nowhere near as fat or overfed as the latter would be, and in fact is quite slender. Wealth is no issue for him, but tonight he seemed to have dressed down.

His name was Danarius.

He's a dangerous man who had his fingers in many pockets, stood within many circles, and on many councils. A well-rounded man, I'll admit and of course he was a Vint—a magister.

To put it plainly, I admired him, and perhaps more than just admired him. He took me in when I was just a fool of a teenager who had found himself in unsavory luck. He trained me to be what I am today. Despite me also being a mage, he had made sure I had an assortment of talents to boast.

In a brisk motion, he was in front of me, his hands firm on either of my arms and the same grin on his lips.

I returned the grin and offer a weakened chuckle.

"You have done well, my pet," he purred, trailing his fingers down to my wrists before he turned one over and placed a heavy pouch in my hands. Cold fingers gone before I could think to react, and returned neatly behind his back, he turned his back to me for a moment, and then quickly faced me once again.

Curiosity hung in his eyes even though the answer had rarely varied, yet with every question he had asked, they were always followed by warm ripples of praise.

"Tell me, did they suffer?" I knew the answer he wanted, so I nod.

"To the very last breath."

"I knew I could trust you." He was quick on his heel and gave me that smile again, and then he motioned for me to follow him.

The bell on the door chimed as we walked through, but the cashier paid us no mind as I immediately went for food. No more words exchanged when I bought a bag of chips. Only once we left the store, did Dan finally nudge me.

"Now tell me, pet," he says, "how does it feel to take the lives of other people?"

An… odd question.

"It's no different than taking the life of a miserable animal," I stuffed a good handful into my mouth and slid my tongue over my lips. I guess I never really thought about that, to be honest. Why it never felt wrong to take another human life; like it was all just a game. The notion of it being nothing more than hunting an animal should be worrisome, but it didn't bother me—I lived with this feeling on a daily basis, so I looked to him with confusion. The look on his face told me that wasn't the answer he was looking for, but still he nodded.

"That is acceptable, maleficus," Dan hummed.

My mind wandered elsewhere and I didn't catch what else he said, so I guess I made a face that spoke confusion and he pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

"Alright, so, come morning you should have new equipment and new missives, I have a meeting to tend to back in Denerim and I'd love to take you out for breakfast and—"

"What about my truck?"

He stopped mid-sentence and stared at me.

"I don't have any other transport and I'll be damned if I have to take the underground to get to another objective."

Danarius exhaled slowly and pressed the tips of his fingers together.

"You will have a replacement vehicle as well, pet, you know I'll take care of you." His eyes flicked from my face, to my chest, and lower, then back to my face. He had this look in his eyes that just made me shiver.

"Will I get to wear a fancy suit like Agent 47?" I joke, but the laugh died even before it passed my lips so I attempted to disguise it with a cough.

The attempt was a massive failure and Dan only shook his head as I ended up throwing myself into a coughing fit.

"Only if you can keep it up, you ruffian." Dan didn't even have to tell me that he thinks I dress like a homeless man.

I mean, yes, I've let the outfit go a little. It's worn down, riddled with bullet holes and old blood stains. Most of my outfit has been let go, and little was left that can be considered salvageable. I suppose I was just a lost cause.

"Come morning, you'll have new gear, and a new vehicle, and a new mod for your gun." I beamed and he actually laughed, passing me by and gently bumping me with his hip as he headed towards the truck. I watched him, brows quirked with interest.

"Perhaps before I leave we can have some time together, hm?"

I could only nod dumbly, and as the boss settled in the car closing the door behind him, I caught Brennan mock-gagging.

Real mature. I rolled my eyes, and we settled back in our positions and headed back home.

They dropped me off in front of my apartment, one cheap and clean, and Dan left me with a last request, a wink, and I stood there like an idiot, red-faced and flustered.

As I turned to head in, I see my neighbor staring out the window—the ever present snoop of my personal life. I really hate him.

I key myself in and wander up to my flat, passing by several of my other neighbors, some of which are once again engaged in overly loud activities or their children are screaming.

Such delights.

Opening the door, I'm greeted by the smell of dog and stale cigarettes. Clothes thrown all about, dishes piled up in the sink desperately needing to be washed, gross old food here and there.

Gods, I'm a disaster.

I haven't had time to clean since I've been so busy lately, and I've had rarely any time to come home as it is. You'd think whoever took my dog out would have at least tried to be helpful.

Shameful.

Speaking of dogs, I have no idea where the hell mine is. He's a 150lbs purebred mabari and if he's somehow managed to hide here, then I have a big problem.

Just as I closed the door and kicked off my boots I was assaulted by said 150lbs of muscle and slobber.

"Odin! Down, old boy! Down!" The laughter in response was expected as I ruffled his ears and playfully pecked his velvet-soft forehead. The hound, in turn, gave me a kiss in return.

Odin was, by all means, my one and only best friend. He had been with me for years and for his unquestionable love and attention, I'll never doubt him. I named him after a heroic war hound that helped the Hero of Ferelden save the world during the Fifth Blight.

Wiping my face off and managing to push him off of me, I finally got to my feet and made way to the kitchen, tripping over his empty bowl and nearly smacking headfirst into the cupboard door.

The empty cupboard that I could have sworn had stuff in it before? Had I just been robbed? Oh no, wait there's his food.

I chalked it up to my lack of presence in my own home that ended up with me having next to nothing in my house to begin with. Why I had a dog was another question, but he was a gift and I had to take care of him as best as I could.

"Alright—I said down, you heathen." I pushed the excited war hound back with my leg to perform some manic balancing act as I retrieved the foul smelling bag of kibble. Odin didn't even give me a chance to correctly ration it to him as he just kept on eating what I dumped in his bowl.

Eventually I succeeded in cleaning up the kitchen, and made my way to the main room where I was nearly bowled over by the excited hound leaping onto the couch and taking his spot—which isn't allowed.

But it was good to be home and honestly? I really couldn't be bothered to move his ass, so I left him alone and made my way to the bathroom. Where I trip over a large pile of clothes and fall flat into the door.

Considering that I had just committed an atrocity and a half not even a few hours ago, I have no idea why I was still surprised by my lack of agility.

The pain was back.

If it's all the same, the bathroom was the cleanest place in the house. Shocking, I know.

I turned the water up to the right temperature and started peeling off each bloody layer of clothes, though each article being soaked beyond belief and sticking to my body did not make for an easy time. Once bare, I threw them in the trash. There is no way in the Void that I am ever going to be able to wear those clothes again. Not even my poor scarf.

Rest in peace, old friend.

Stepping beneath the scalding drops got me to thinking about my financial situation; Dan paid me a heavy sum for today. Plus what he handed to me as a bonus. I should have enough to move out of this damn flat and find a newer place in the city…

Oh, what am I kidding, I couldn't leave him.

He offered this place to me and I have to be thankful of that, after all, it's been a while since he had let me live on my own. With growing interest and Dan selling me off to the higher bidder with each new contract, there's no reason that I shouldn't be able to—

No. I have to stay with him.

All approved clients from my m- my boss come my way, he gives me the information that they have, and I do the dirty work. No questions asked. That's the arrangement.

Scrubbing away at wound and blood stains hurts like a mother, but I'm clean after a half hour. A throbbing headache made shower time cut short as I'd brush over a welt—

Holy shit, what was this even from?

Oh. Right.

That guy.

With the bashed in head. He hit me with a fucking pipe.

I finally dry off and plop on the couch next to the snoring hound—watching television for a moment, and then get bored enough to clean the damn place.

I cracked open the windows. Vacuuming can wait for the morning, but for now I needed to clean—

I took an extra hour to clean out my guns. They're all in prime condition. I took better care of my guns than I did myself, which was pretty pathetic to say the least but I didn't really care.

Safety back on, I returned the trio to their rightful places.

By the time I set to cleaning my AR-15, Odin had wandered off again to Maker knows where. Out of sight, out of mind.

Adrenaline from my latest kill still surged through my veins and I couldn't help but feel a little jittery and giddy, the anxious grin reflected back at me when I finally go brush my teeth—another hour passed, a quick glance at the clock—

4:45AM

Well, shit.

I should probably go to bed…

Odin had already been fed and watered, so I step over his large form in the hallway and inch over to my bed. Once comfortably situated on the mattress and covered by a ridiculous amount of pillows and blankets, the lull of the outside world coaxed me to sleep.

I thrash about in my sleep. I know this for a fact and it is not something that you want to wake up to. It's not pretty. I startled myself awake by cracking my head against the nightstand. The previous injury causing me to double over in pain, I held my head and slowly sat up, blinking away sleep and a brand new wave of nausea.

Ach… Fuck.

Massaging the side of my head, I took unsteady breaths, like a panicked beast as I glanced about the room. The sun was out, that much I could see from the light coming through the curtains. I was drenched in sweat, dizzy, and having trouble breathing.

Overheating is a big problem for someone who likes to be covered in blankets. The blanket stuck to my body, twisted around my legs as I tried to pry myself out of bed but it just wouldn't—let—go! Struggling to get out of the constricting fabric, I wound up tripping over the sleeping mabari and landed on my back with a loud thud.

I lay there for a moment, contemplated life and stared wide-eyed up at the ceiling fan as the blades circled for the umpteenth time with the blanket still firmly wrapped around my thigh. With a sigh I uncoiled myself from the cotton stranglehold and get to my feet, I scratched my beard and tap the mabaris flank with my heel as I moved about.

I tugged on a new pair of pants and a plain tank top and stride out of the room straight towards the bathroom, picking up the majority of discarded clothes along the way. By the time I reached the door, I have a good load-full of things in dire need of cleaning.

About an hour later, the house was clean, the windows are open, and my phone is on the verge of having a mechanical heart attack on the counter…

Oh.

I guess I have to answer.

"Hawke." I answered. The voice on the other end is muffled and by all means irritated.

"Good morning to you too, Brennan." There's a knock on the door and footsteps retreating as I opened it.

There's a box. A huge one.

"Your package should have arrived by now. There should be a new outfit, courtesy of your Master. Plus a new mod for your rifle, and some other shit that I don't care enough to tell you about. Boss will be by in an hour to pick you up and yadda yadda, be ready." As usual there was no goodbye or actual end when he hung up on me.

I toss my phone onto the couch and drag the box in with me.

Let's see what you've spoiled me with this time, Dan.

Ooh look, packing peanuts. Wonderful. Odin will be eating these in no time.

A shiny briefcase. Delightful.

I popped open the top and within lay such treasures as well as things that I didn't expect to be able to fit in this kind of case. Like neatly folded up clothes.

He's really trying to spoil me. I wonder what for?

Good, good.

I feel along the fabric and could make out a specific bulge between the fibers. I pull off the bundle to find my modifications; an enhanced scope for my gun, and a laser sight. In between the new magazine is fiber wire. I've been one more attuned to snapping necks, but I suppose when you absolutely need to make the silent kill… There's a new trench coat, some new shirts, a new gun holster, and a new set of earrings?

Alright. No new boots? Good.

A flash of crimson catches my eye.

It… He sent me a new scarf…

It's soft to the touch. As it shifts between my fingers, the material shimmers faintly in the sunlight. Brand new, custom crafted, and dyed crimson to suit my favorite colour with two entwined hawks made of silver thread—my personal insignia.

I…I never really knew where this symbol came from; even though I had the same insignia on my ring. I guess that wherever it came from originally, it was really important to me. I don't remember much of anything, to tell the truth, before I met Danarius.

The silk feels amazing—and I rub my thumbs along the material absently for a few moments before I turned my attention back to the briefcase. There's still a little more in there.

I fix the scarf around my neck, smile weakly into the mirror as I do, then skip over to the discarded briefcase. Inside there's a grey cardigan, sort of billowing fabric, and it seemed ridiculous to try to put it on the first time, but after a few moments of fixing the extra fabric I was met by my own reflection smiling at me; an amber gaze that glows in dim lighting surrounded by a field of dark grey. My eyes are unnatural, and I can't fix it now.

More than likely I'll have to get straight to business.

Mental checklist:

Trench coat? Check.

Boots? Check. I tap the toe against the floor.

Scarf? Check.

Gloves? Check.

Fiber Wire? Check.

Guns? Check and double check.

Looks like I'm set.

I make my way to the bathroom and freshen up—shape up my beard and hair and whatnot and of course flex at the mirror, because who doesn't do that? All set, I head to the bedroom and get dressed in my usual fashion of a dark under armour tank top, which I will not deny that it accented my muscles.

I fit myself with my pistol strap on my belt, fixing the ungodly large belt buckle at the center, and then the trench coat, which I'm genuinely surprised actually fits me, being as large as I am. My reflection in the full-body mirror was nothing of surprise to me. But I still sighed.

Holy shit I look like a criminal.

Before I left, I took one last look at my neck and tug down the collar of my shirt a bit to show more; my entire neck is covered in large bars of black ink, some of which had been violated by an obscenely long scar that ran diagonally across my throat. The black ink disappeared beneath chest hair and the shirt, so I quickly take my attention back to the original goal.

Heading back out to the living room, I spotted a loose piece of paper with Dan's handwriting gracing its front.

"Get yourself cleaned up for breakfast; I'll be there to pick you up by ten. Don't dress like a thug.

-Dan"

I looked at the clock, and it's almost ten. Go figure. Well then I guess I'll have to dress down a little? I suppose I can wear that new cardigan…

I changed clothes again, and then I hear a horn from outside. I grab up my keys and my wallet, and scratch Odin's ears before I go. Down the stairs I go, and once outside I'm greeted by the sight of Danarius and a shiny Lexus in the parkway.

His eyes brighten when he sees me and I knew that today was definitely going to be a good day.