"Ok, here we go." says grandfather, flipping to the bookmarked page. "As night fell, the assassin prepared. And so did the Knights. The Knights, fully armored, weapons at the ready, set up sentries, both inside the tent and outside. This night, they all slept in their armor, as they had during the battle, should they need to fight at a moments notice. Of course, none of them were sleeping that well, and the sentries were wide awake. Knowing this would be the case, the clever Assassin decided to wait, just to spite the Knights, to find a more favorable time to strike." nodding at this logic, grandfather says to the boy, "Never forget, my boy, that it's not always how you attack, but just as often where and when. Assassins are the best at knowing when their enemy is weak, and when they are strong, and will often wait until the perfect time to strike. Much like the Golden Asp, as a matter of fact, that has been known to pass up food that was too dangerous to strike, until it brushes the snake off as a minor threat, then it strikes once, more often killing the victim immediately than if it had attacked when it's prey was ready..." grandfather looks to the boy, who is listening with rapt attention. "And so it was, that the Assassin waited a day, and another. All the while, frustrating the Knights to no end. It was on the second day that the Knights, suddenly realizing that they might no longer be the targets, packed up camp and began the treck back to the castle, which they feared might have been overrun in their absence!" Grandfather chuckles at this notion, then continues. "An open opportunity presenting itself, the Assassin decided that he could use the open road to his advantage, and followed the Knights. And it wasn't long until Altan Olvis, the Cleric/Knight, fell just slightly behind, recognizing some herbs that would be useful in various healing potions. Before he had even managed to reach down to pull up a root, the Assassin flowed out of the shadows to his side! Dagger in hand, stabbing toward his exposed throat!" at this, the boy's eyes grow wide. "How did he do that?" the boy asks. "Well, my boy, with years of training, a Shadow-Spinner learns how to ask a shadow to hide him, even in broad daylight. It's really a magical ability conferred upon the Assassin after a sacrafice or kill dedicated the Shadow Lords, but in the end, the Assassin can walk the shadow plane, travelling in the shadow world at will, and the shadows of this world simply become his allies, helping to conceal him until the time is right. It takes years to achieve..." grandfather trails off, looking at the thoughful look painted on the boys features. "Like, hide and seek, with a shadow helping you?" the boy asks. "Exactly." grandfather says, smiling. "Wow, how amazing!" the boy says, motioning for his grandfather to continue. "Sir Altan Olvis was dead before he hit the ground, without making a sound." grandfather continues, "And the Knights, skittish before, were even more on edge when they turned around and found Sir Altan Olvis lying in a patch of Yarrow." "Yarrow? Gran-pa?" the boy asks. "Yarrow is a small white flower, with grean leaves, that can be used for healing wounds." grandfather explains, drawing a picture of the flower with his dagger on the dirt floor as an impromptu herbalism lesson for the boy.