The Last Path: Chapter One ''A wonderful day''
Another day passed by as Darren woke up in his bed, the sheets curled around his agile form, soft and glowing from the sun that shined through the open window, the curtains shadowing partially over the male. The man possessed fine looks, blessed with long strands of black that flowed down to his nape, well kept, but certainly wild, adventureous, accompanying his features with vibrant green eyes that glowed dimly in the sun's morningwake, eyelids lowering slightly to cover himself from the burst of bright. A soft sigh escaped his lips as the man eyed the ceiling in deep thought, reluctant to get up. Eventually after moments of compelling himself, he moved to the side of the bed, briefly gazing around the room that seemed to be an attic, venerable wood with cracks here and there, not too stabile if a stranger were to guess. Few rags of clothing were scattered around, with a desk aside of his bed, upon the surface lay several golden coins that the man likely stole. The man slowly pushed himself off the bed as the sheets traced along his form and lingered upon the side of the bed, not even taking the time to have little attention for making the bed look neat. He gazed about in the attic as he eventually found a white shirt, with few stains and slipped himself in it, along with a pair of trousers that held a dark brown color. The clothes were here and there abit too tight, or a bit too big, not exactly custom made, but he was not one to complain. Bare feet shuffled across the red carpet before finding his boots, securing them around his feet with a relieved sigh. Few straps were bound around his boots that posed as fashionable, if not to protect him. The male took his sweet time to get dressed, slummering down the stairs and grabbing a grape from the bowl centering the table of the room. His house, validated, was not of noble upcome, he hardly had any plates, and the furniture was rather poor.
Opening the door and locking it, he departed from his house. The grim town of Vadelore was known for its trade, having big companies buy massive amounts of silks, fruits and meat to supply them. Other than that, the town didn't eradiate royalty either. It was if not for the trade, one of the poor towns located in the continent of Serynthal, among no surprise, it was already afternoon, having slept in as per usual, his weary eyes ran over the dozen of people walking forth and back the square, shouting, screaming, yelling and talking. Most of it existed of persuasion, a salesman convincing a customer to buy the wares, or other salesmen having a hissy-fit at eachother for prices of similar products. Darren was used to it, after having lived in the town for nearly eighteen years. He began to make his way through the crowds as he eventually walked through an alley to deter from the overly overwhelming sounds that'd make most men deaf. Having walked through the alley, he made a turn to his right, a darker part of the town, no stores present here, only sheds of wood held together where the poor just barely managed to survive and hold their shelter. At the end of the road he entered a house that looked even older than his own house, but it was kept in a better state. As he walked in, he visualized a counter on his left with a man behind it, nodding politely as he walked further, passing through a door and downwards a staircase, the room dark, and unsettling to many.
''Just on time, Darren. Took you long enough to get yourself out of your knickers, 'ha!'' A man spurted out towards Darren as he entered the room. The man himself was bulky, clad in dark clothing, a thick beard, and brown eyes, likely in his early fourties. Darren kept a blank expression his face, unamused as he was, he knew not to speak back, less if it was an insult in retort, he merely nodded once again. Darren moved to the table where the male stood, along with few other individuals clad in dark clothing. ''Oh, shut your trap, Eavan. Leave the poor kid be, aye? We need him t'get us money''. Eagan looked at the other with a visable scowl, muttering to himself. The male in question seemed younger, possibly in his early thirties, blonde hair bound back in a low tail, blue eyes, and a light stubble on his jawline. He was named Saren, the leader of the organisation Darren was in. ''Right then. Now we're all here, let's get to the point. We've a contract of a noblewoman needing to be killed. She's having an affair, and the wife of the man in question isn't very pleased with it. Your job is to kill her Darren, make it look like an accident as possible''. Darren nodded once again as he tilted his head, gazing to Eavan briefly before gazing back to Saren. ''I'll get it done''. Saren smiled pleasantly as his right index-finger tapped a point on the map upon the table. ''She is going to meet Lord Maneson this evening at this spot. You will need to tail her and finish her off on the way'' Eavan mumbled again as he eyed Darren with a look of discontempt, possibly a grudge for the new recruit. ''This pisspot can't even tear apart wet tissue paper, Saren, lest he kill someone''. Saren averted his visual to Eavan, his stare deadly and hinting Eavan to silence himself, which he did. After moments, Saren looked back at Darren. ''As I was saying, you kill her. You can make use of your daggers. Poison. Your..charms, or anything else you can think of. Be creative.- Now, get going and prepare yourself''. Darren made a mild bow in respect, mainly towards Saren and the others that were present, evidently not one to put up with Eavan's bickering. He moved back up the stairs, and went to the male behind the counter. ''I need wine, and a stall''. The man looked at Darren with confused eyes, rubbing over his bald head before shrugging. ''Whatevah y'want kid''. A few hours later, nearing the evening, a stall was set up at the less crowded side of the square, bottles of fine, of rather decent quality, with glasses set for tasting. Darren worse a different oufit, his white stained shirt replaced by a dark black short, embroided with golden lining, and matching trousers and boots, making him look valid as salesman. As the evening approached, Darren kept at his stall, having sold wine, but kept plenty left. He was waiting. Waiting for his target. The sun left its bright gaze and instead moved over the horizon to let darkness scatter over the town. A cool breeze spread and the yelling became less. It worried Darren. It worried the young man that the circumstances would fail his plan. But he was in luck.
His target, Lady Lonsaile became visable on the other side of the square, and she needed to pass his stall to get to Lord Maneson. She seemed in a hurry as she trampeled over the square towards Darren's direction, avoiding eye-contact with anyone seeking it. ''My lady, can I have a moment, please? Do you care for my speciality of tonight? Lorene's Red Wine? It's well known'', Darren adressed the women with, his voice charming and seductive, but convincing, only one part, the other part were his looks that made it even harder to resist. She stood still as her eyes gazed towards the male, hesistant, but approaching him. ''Oh, Lorene's Red? I love that wine, sir. How much for a glass?'' Darren had a certain glint in his eyes, a snake having catched his prey, and she was only walking on her own volution deeper into the nest. ''For you, my lady? A beautiful lady like you, a glass of wine is for free'', he offered her a smile a she took a specific glass before pouring the wine within, extending his hand with the glass to offer, his emerald green eyes unfaltering from locking onto her. She curtisied as she took the glass and smiled. '''Thank you, kind sir. What may be your name?'' Darren chuckled lowly as he offered her a bow in return. ''Tamlen, dear lady, could you indulge me with yours?'' -''You may call me Raia'', she added before taking a sip of her wine, pleased by the taste. ''But I will have to take my leave now, Tamlen. I have an appointment''. Darren leaned back, locking arms behind himself as he nodded. ''Ofcourse, let me not delay you, it has been a pleasure''. After she left, Darren was positive the poison within the glass would be absorbed by the wine, killing the woman only minutes after. She never made it to her secret lover. Darren kept the stall up to uphold the act, after a few hours having closed it down and moved back to his house. The next morning, after a good night's sleep, the onyx haired male woke up to another burst of Light in his room, pleasant at times, though he was exhausted from last night. He put on the same outfit, and made his way back outside to the other house, making sure he wasn't being followed by any other individual, blending in with the crowd, and subtly having made his way through the alleyways. Darren smiled at the bald man at the counter, and the male grunted lowly, in surprise Darren's tactic worked. Darren didn't look cocky, but he certainly was proud of himself, though, if she is indeed dead, is unknown. He moved down the stairs again and all eyes were on him. His expression was ataken back for a moment, his tanned skin running pale as he inhaled sharply for air, covering his fear. He despite all eyes on him, moved forth and gazed at Eavan before eying Saren. Saren stood silently there, staring at Darren with deadly blue eyes, determined, intimidating, the young man was in awe. The entire room was silent as only breathing was heard. Eventually Saren grinned and smashed a fist on the center of the table. ''You bloody did it! She is dead. And everyone thought she died because of a bad heart. Nobody further questioned it, and the wife is happy''. Darren begun breathing again as he smiled nervously, relieved. '''Welcome to the Crows of Serynthal''