Disclaimer : I own Zieth and my opinion. Everything else belongs to their respective creators, owners, gods, designers, programmers, so on and so forth, whoever they may be. There's far too many to list.
I still make absolutely no apology for what I'm doing. For soothing notes, see the start of chapter 1.
This is still not a story for children. It has this rating because I plan to use a little gore. Children, leave now. If you are still reading this, know I will not be responsible for any behaviour occuring later on in your life, be it two minutes from now or twenty years.
Feel free to review, but don't bother making any fuss about Rowling corrections and accuracy. I quite honestly couldn't care less, as should become blatantly obvious.
The Assassins' morality seems to have been replaced by a sort of Terminator-style reasoning and 'get-the-mission-done' attitude... oh well. That's how it is then.
Evil is Just a Point of View
2 - The Storm Begins
The wind whipped up in the trees, rustling the leaves. The Viz-Jaq'taar party ignored it utterly, knowing it was nothing more than the wind. If it had been even a mere grazing animal, they would have known. Wind posed no danger to them.
Zieth walked as silently as the rest of them, something that appeared to be no small feat, not with their suits of gothic plate armour, each enchanted to its wearers own desires and needs. Protections against curses, charms, spells... if it could be hurled at them magically, it had been. The Assassins had ways to combat it.
In the dark of night, they appeared as mere duplicates of each other. For all the differences in armour applications, the outward visage of them was the same – red, black and gold plate armour, a large belt with row upon row of rich purple potions. Some carried katars, some claws, others a combination. Some wore helms while the remainder bore enchanted circlets. But their hair was cut short, be it a male or female Viz-Jaq'taar who walked through the forest. And the secure feeling of their own power that each bore. They were capable, they had a purpose, and they could not be stopped.
It was a world as equally beautiful and boring as any other, Zieth had thought on arrival, while the light of their portal had still shone, before it closed on itself, never to be again. Another would have to be opened to allow them to leave.
But they would not leave until the task at hand was complete. When those corrupted magic-users had been wiped from the world, their threat gone.
It was beginning.
(hmm... I think I'm about to get hazy on whats going on)
(it doesnt help that there's a cat sitting on my keyboard and it refuses to move)
Short chapter. Turned out to be more of an interlude. Oops.