The moon hung full over the city of Targas. The hour was late and the streets were deserted of few beasts. It was the time that the law held no authority and the beasts of the night, the murderers, the thieves and the mercenaries ruled the streets.

Such it was that nobeast would respond to a panicked cry for help.

The ferret was racing through the twisted streets, ducking in between allies and houses in hopes he would be rescued. These hopes went unfulfilled. He was being hunted like the lowest creature in the forest, hunted like a dove, like a snake hunts a rabbit.

The rain poured down, the thick clouds obscuring the full moon. The ferret saw a flash of emerald green close by but could not shift direction before a fist crashed into his face, flinging him to the wet ground.

He groaned and struggled up, hearing the unmistakable sound of a sword sliding free of its scabbard. "N-no! Please!"
There was no response but that of footsteps bringing the owner of the blade closer. Nothing but hard merciless emerald eyes in the scarred, dark face, nothing that even resembled mercy existed in the emerald eyes.

"Jald, I can pay you double! Triple!" The ferret yelled frantically, searching for the nonexistent escape route. "I-I'm worth more alive!"
The sword slashed down, cleaving through the target's throat and slicing through his windpipe; Choking, the ferret crumpled to the ground, the fear draining from his eyes along with his life as surely as his blood pooled from his slashed throat.

Jald Nightson's sword slashed through the air, blood flying to the ground as the ferret sheathed it, kneeling down to pick up a small medallion from the ferret's torn throat: a crimson colored symbol in the shape of a teardrop, the symbol of a high ranking officer of the Crimson Tears.

"Worth enough dead," Jald replied calmly, sheathing his sword with slow deliberation. A frown curved his mouth as he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head. He and Eroket had planned this mission for a long time and the lieutenant was only a small part of it: The true target was Geras Iridanis, the lord of Crimson Tears.

Davrag Joris was dead, Verria, Arithia and Arredon Toroth left behind in Calishan and Geras left his home city to attend to business in Targas, a city Eroket knew like the back of his paw. They'd never have a better chance to assassinate Geras than this.

However, Eroket had elected to pursue Geras himself and bring an end to the crime lord's life. Jald was still uncertain if he had made the correct decision in allowing Ero to go after Geras himself. Eroket had a personal grudge to settle against the ferret and while he showed exceptional progress and skill, Jald was concerned it may be too much for him.

"Hurry it up, Ero…get back alive." Jald was surprised at the anxiety in his voice.

Eroket Nightblade was at this moment racing over the roofs of Targas with speed and agility suited to his lean form, black cape billowing behind him, hood drawn up and amber eyes narrowed tightly as he raced to where we would intercept and kill Geras Iridanis. Tonight, his sword would cut short the life of the ferret who had murdered his father. Tonight, he would claim the life of his former enemy in the Death Watch.

Now! He screamed to himself mentally, ducking into a crouched and springing, powerful legs carrying him into a nearby alley, a crimson paw pressed to the ground and helping him push himself to his feet, another motion removing his hood and a third drawing his sword.

He moved out of the alley swiftly, noting the movements of beasts across the streets; Geras had brought quite the amount of guards.

Eroket could clearly see the ferret leader himself, surrounded by a small group of guards…including two who clearly stood out; one was massive, larger than even Skola Snowshadow, the wolf Eroket had met a year ago. The massive beast was a weasel, dressed in a heavy mail and cloak. Green and red war paint covering his wide face and the sharpened fangs that showed through slashed lips added to the savage Hallic Thargo's monstrous appearance. The second beast was impossible to make out; a thick blue cloak was wrapped around his shoulders, obscuring most of his form, a hood covering his face, but the protruding muzzle and ears gave little doubt of his species: a fox.

So, Geras had bought a new bodyguard, Eroket thought. Big deal, it wouldn't help.

Eroket removed a dagger and took careful aim. He couldn't risk an open battle and had to finish Geras with one good throw. Ready, aim and…

The throw was good but what happened then couldn't have been predicted by anybeast. The cloaked fox spun with frightening speed and tackled the shocked Geras to the ground as the dagger buried itself in the throat of one of Geras's guards.

Eroket's eyes widened in shock that he'd been heard or seen. Well, Geras's money hadn't gone to waste, at least…

The cloaked fox rose, pulling Geras to his feet. Regaining his dignity, the crime boss drew his sword and screamed, "KILL HIM!!"

The guards turned and with a snarl, Hallic twirled his trident. Geras put a paw on the weasel's arm. "I want you and Kirathal to stay here with me for now, Hallic…get me to the meeting!"

Eroket readied his sword as the bodyguards moved forward.

Geras stumbled along, regaining his footing as the first scream lit through the night air. "I have the best guards money can buy…" The ferret muttered. "They'll stop him…"

Kirathal removed his hood, revealing a handsome face of an arctic fox, eyes the color of tarnished sapphires. "No. They will not. Not if his skill is even a quarter that of Jald Nightson and I hear that it is almost equal to the Manticore's now."

Hallic growled angrily. "Almost as good as Nightson?!"

"He defeated Davrag Joris, did he not?"

Geras swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. "What do you suggest, Kirathal?"

Kirathal smiled thinly, the sudden, disturbing glint in his eyes reminded Geras why he had hired the dangerous fox in the first place. "Leave him to me…"

Eroket's sword bit into the stomach of the final guard. Eroket's paw placed itself on the hilt as her transformed the stab into a slice, moving through the guard and spinning away as the corpse collapsed.

A sigh passed his lips. He was hurt, the bodyguards had been good. However, he wasn't so hurt that he couldn't pursue and hopefully finish off Geras Iridanis.

"So, you are the prodigy of my old comrade Jald…"

Eroket whirled to see the fox he had seen earlier, sans the blue cloak. Without it, Eroket noted he was tall (He had hunched himself over before) with a lean build that bespoke of every muscle being tuned perfectly. His fur was shockingly white, that of a beast who lived in the far north. In one paw he carried a thin sword, the point pointing away from the fox diagonally.

Eroket didn't ask how he knew Jald, didn't care who or what this fox was, only that he was an obstacle. "I'm Eroket Nightblade!"
"Kirathal Frostclaw." The sword dipped up in a salute, a mocking smile playing around the fox's lips. "You are the one…who has made the night cry tears of blood…"

"Save the poetry!" Eroket lunged, slashing at the fox's face. Kirathal's sword snapped up in a block, stepping back and circling Eroket slowly, coming in with a slash to the neck at Eroket's side.

Eroket's blade snapped up, smacking Kirathal's blade away and lunged with a flurry of slashes, finding them parried or avoided…and then it hit him: Kirathal's sword style was exactly the same as his.

"You can't beat me." Kirathal replied coldly. "Even Jald couldn't beat me now."

Impossible...warning lights exploded in Eroket's brain as he moved back to regard the calm fox with new determination. Eroket had never heard this fox's name before, how could a beast better than Jald escape notice in the world of the mercenary? "How the hell-"

"Nightson and I were comrades in a war about…twenty years ago or so. I was an assassin for one side and worked with Jald. I learned his sword style and more than that, I've perfected it." His voice sounded smug. "Now, I don't think I need to explain myself further to you, Eroket Nightblade."

Eroket's eyes narrowed to amber slits as he realized he was facing an opponent far beyond him. This fox wasn't just good, not just a fighter. Eroket could see from the perfect way he coordinated himself, used his muscles in sync with another. Davrag Joris had been amazing, Jald was extraordinary…but Kirathal Frostclaw was something else entirely. "Why is a beast like you working for Geras Iridanis?!" He yelled, hoping to buy a measure of time.

Kirath shrugged. "He paid us and we came. With Davrag Joris dead and the Five collapsed, he needed reliable beasts and we are those beasts. Now, I don't owe even the condemned anything beyond this: Everybeast has to start small…now, stay on your guard. Letting it go around me is a one way ticket to the Dark Forest." He smirked coldly and lowered his sword, but Eroket knew he was ready for any attack. He also took note that Kirathal had said 'we,' however little good it would do Eroket in the future. Eroket also knew he was going to die on the streets. In that moment, his mind was lucid, purged of greed, of hatred and of thoughts for revenge. Kirathal's next comment nearly drained him of his courage and determination, even from a hardened soldier and killer such as Eroket.

Eroket had been a warrior, a mercenary and a soldier for years. He had started killing in his youth and had continued for many, many years. Eroket was an assassin and one of the best in the business but the pure lust for blood and want for violence and destruction in Kirathal's eyes made the ermine's blood run cold.

"There are seven targets…" Kirathal hissed, fangs baring in a savage grin. "Heart! Lungs, kidneys, stomach, throat, carotid artery, jugular vein…what vulnerable place shall my blade find tonight?"

Eroket grasped his blade's hilt tightly in both paws and ran forward, steeling himself for death but hoping to at least wound the wicked fox in front of him before he died. Was this truly the end of him? Would the fates abandon him here to his fate? What, then, had his defeat of General Visla and Davrag Joris been for?

No time to philosophize, no time to ponder, Eroket thought…just time to die.

Kirathal's sword came up in a parry when his footpaw came up to connect viciously with Eroket's gut. He kicked again and sent Eroket's sword clattering to the rain soaked ground.

Before Eroket could recover, Kirathal lunged and seized him by the throat with his free paw. "Game over!"

Eroket felt himself propelled back, felt his head slam against the nearest wall and instantly the strength drained from his limbs. He saw the ground rush up to meet him as Kirathal dropped him as one would discard any sort of refuse. Before consciousness fled him completely, he could hear Kirathal Frostclaw speak and the words would forever brand themselves in his brain even if he lived to be a thousand years old.

"You lost; you are among the weak now. In all rights, I should kill you, but you have amused me quite a bit. Live, Eroket Nightblade! Get stronger! If you can't kill me then hate me until you can! Hate me and curse me and live without honor like the coward you are!