Intro

The market in Duradda thronged with activity that afternoon. Intricately woven tapestry, lustrous jewels, and finely crafted silk lined the shelves, surrounded by more average, day-to-day good. There seemed to be a particular surplus of green apples too, likely thanks to the Azherian merchants who were only just shaking the sand from their boots. These richly dressed merchants, among many others, bartered at each stall, while hundreds of onlookers shuffled through, gawking at any foreign trinket that happened to catch there eye. Any conflict of words was lost in the overbearing murmur, while standing out amongst the crowd would be nearly impossible. Through this crowd walked two individuals, dressed in brown cloaks so as to blend in further.

“You understand what we’re doing, right?” Question the shorter of the two, who had to stand on their tiptoes just to shout into the ear of the other.

“Of course I do!” Replied the taller one, whose speaking voice was naturally loud enough to be heard over the crowd.

The shorter one grabbed the taller one by the cloak, and dragged him down to their level.  

“Darius. Look me in the eye and give me your absolute fucking guarantee that you know what we’re doing.”

Darius pulled away from her grip, and put his right hand forward.

“I swear that I understand what we’re doing.” After they’d said that, the tall one lowered his hand and rubbed the shorter one’s head. The shorter one quickly pulled away, and punched the tall one in the gut. The tall one doubled over.

“Asshole…”

Once Darius had regained himself, they went their separate ways; disappearing from each other in the crowd. They both knew their target; a man called Ali, whose real name was Silaas Aan Swaad. Killing him would pay for their food and lodging for a whole week. Supposedly, Silaas was a lanky man, with a long scar along right his forearm, an ornately designed sheath whose trim was golden, and had a slightly nervous disposition. Someone of his sort should have been easy to find, but he had, up till then, avoided detection. Taking the direct approach, Darius hoped the market goers could change that.

“Have you seen a man fitting that description?” He asked of anyone who would listen. Alas, few had seen their target, and even fewer could tell him anything more than what he already knew. At the very least, he was assured the target was somewhere in the city.

Darius kept forward, doing his best to wade through the crowd as he made for the grand bazaar at its center. Serving as the be-all end-all for eastern markets, the grand bazaar of Duradda dominated what skyline that the shoppers and merchants didn’t. Its distinctly curved shape, and arched entryway marked a mixture of northern and eastern style architecture, which made it a focal point for gawkers and those who appreciated art. A giant warehouse sat just beyond the bazaar, which was were goods coming along the Safrem were unloaded and stored. Most of said goods went outside to the market, but the highest quality items always found a place on the bazaar shelves, with only the most respected of merchants standing around to sell them.

“Have you seen a man fitting this description?” Darius asked again, but with similar results as before. That was of no matter, however, for Darius had completed the first part of his mission. Wherever he went, Darius now heard talk of their target. Now, though it pained him to do so, Darius could switch from talking to looking. A difficult task, but certainly not one that was beyond him. Still, walking around on his tiptoes was not an enjoyable prospect by any means, so he was quite relieved to hear a loud whistling when he got back outside.

The whistling, which sounded like a bird native to the region, attracted to attention of most of the market. For just a moment, it grew quieter, and the market goers looked around to find the source. The whistle departed just as quickly as it came, however, and the slightly bewildered merchants returned to their business. While meaningless to them, Darius knew that whistle well, and he immediately began to wade left. He’d spotted an alleyway on his way to the bazaar; several, in fact, but he made for the one closest to whistle.

Closing in on the alley in question, he found it pleasantly devoid of people, save for the occional group of wanderers and merchants conducting unsavory trade. A perfect place for a man to escape unnoticed, but such would not be the case while Darius was on the case. But where could the target have gone? He thought better of asking the unscrupulous fellows who populated the alleyway, and instead awaited the instruction of his companion. Sure enough, as he wandered the streets, his companion appeared behind him.

“Darius.” Announced the short one.

Darius turned to address the short one.

“Ah, Shai. Did you find him?” He asked.

“I Did.” Answered Shai,

“Glorious!” Darius exclaimed.

“God dammit, keep your voice down.” Shai scolded.

“Ha! No one can dim the voice of the great D-”

Shai stepped on Darius’ foot. Darius yelped, and fell back.

“He’s heading towards the central water basin. Cut him off.” Explained Shai before Darius could recover himself.

Darius looked at her, while still holding his foot, and gave a teary eyed thumbs up.

“Good. Don’t muck this up.” That said, Shai disappeared down another alleyway. “The water basin.” Darius thought to himself as he got back up. “Where was that?” He tried to recall the map he’d studied before coming into town, but he couldn’t recall it very well. He knew the central water basin was protected, and sat nearby the palace, but where was the palace? Darius paced back and forth, trying to think, but then realized the easy solution;  He’d climb up to a roof!

The extensive back alleys of Durrada certainly had no shortage of roof tops to observe from, and indeed, a great many of the buildings had been built in old Sacean style. There exposed scaffolding would make climbing up easy. So, Darius took a rope from his pack, formed it into a lasso, and latched it onto the wooden scaffolding of the nearest house which had said scaffolding. He made certain it was taut, and then climbed up.

The view from the rooftop was nothing to scoff at, with simple and ornate buildings stretching far off. From there, it almost seemed Durrada was endless. But Darius couldn’t be distracted. He scanned the whole breadth what he could see, searching for a building that could be the palace. By no means a subtle sight, Darius had little trouble in locating his quarry. Indeed, the palace’s tall, round topped spires and thick walls struck against the dull, sandy brown of lesser structures. Beyond that was the royal palace, whose windows ran high, and gave Shah Delshad a clear view of the Safrem; a hard to miss sight, even from the ground.

His course laid out, darius began moving from roof to roof in pursuit of the target. The only issue being that he hadn’t the slightest clue where Silaas was in relation to him, or what direction he was taking. He had his end goal, at least, so the target had to be between where he stood and where he was going. Besides, how difficult could it be to find a mysterious, cloaked individual? Indeed, there was one coming up.

Darius sped ahead, and hopped down onto the street before some hapless old man in a cloak. His landing startled the old man, who tripped and fell down. Darius ripped aside his own cloak, so as to reveal his own form; an excessively groomed man with long brown hair, which had been done up in a ponytail, and a goatee. Around his neck dangled a gaudy sapphire necklace, and adorning his fingers were equally as gaudy rings. His dress resembled that of the merchants, with a long, olive drab robe and a grey vest, which had been ornamented with floral patterns around the edges. Around his waist was a woolen belt, which was the keeper of his sheath (on which was engraved “Darius the Great.”) as well as the keeper of his pants. From his sheath, Darius drew his rapier, and pointed it at the supposed target.

“Pray to your God now, knave, for I, Darius the Great, Slayer of Iskander Al-Eifrit, Sayyid Al-Eimlaq, and Khwaja Dizeji, Justice of Shamzal-Hesh, Defender of the Gates of Cazaram, Hero of the Southern Sands, and the Unbreakable Wave. He who defeated the hordes of Mutasabiq Alramal, and who held the walls of Hajran, have come to slay you with this!” Darius swung his rapier around, “Al-Abadiheed, whose tip can pierce any armor! Again I say to you, pray, for today will be your last!”

The response from the old man was less than what Darius had hoped for. Indeed, the bewildered old man just looked upon Darius with wide-eyed confusion. Unreasonable though it may have been, Darius suspected that perhaps this wasn’t his target. In fact, when he ran over to the old man, and pulled back his sleeve, Darius found no scar.

“Err… Haha! My apologies, good elder, you simply looked like someone whose life I have been tasked with ending.”

The old man was speechless.

“Uhh, right, well, good day!”

Darius took out his rope, and again flung it onto a nearby scaffolding. He again proceeded down the rooftops, leaving the old man behind to tell the story of the great Darius. This day would go far better than Darius had hoped, especially as he leapt upon the wrong target two more times before finally spotting the real thing. Of course, he didn’t know it was the real thing, but Darius didn’t much care.

Doing his usual theatrical jump, the man who Darius faced now was less than impressed. Undeterred, Darius began his speech.

“Pray to your God now, knave, for I, Dar-”

The man rolled his eyes, and walked past Darius.

“W-wait! Where you going!” Darius shouted as he snapped around.

The man ignored him, and kept walking. Darius, annoyed, ran after him, and grabbed his shoulder.

“Hey-” Began Darius, but again found himself cut off when the man swung around to swat Darius’ hand away. During the swing, his cloak came up, and revealed the scar that ran along his forearm.

“Haha!” Laughed Darius, then throwing off his cloak, which he’d forgotten to do from the get-go. “Silaas Aan Swaad, I, Darius the Great, have come for you!”

The man instantly grew more nervous.

“W-what kinda name is that!? Never heard it before in my life. What are you even talking about? Who are you!?” Came the man’s rapid fire questions.

“I am Darius the Great, Slayer of Iskander Al-Eifrit-”

Darius launched into his monologue, during which the increasingly antsy man backed farther away. His hand never strayed far from his hip, and he began to mutter something.

“Get the fuck down!” Came the shouting of a familiar voice.

Fire began to emerge from the mans mouth, but before it could reach Darius, Shai emerged from the shadows, and slammed into said man. In the process, the fire managed to knick her cloak, and so caught it on fire. She hurriedly threw it off, thus exposing a woman dressed far more sensible than Darius. Adorning her body was a simple, dull brown tunic, and a pair of puffy brown trousers. Her most curious feature was her white hair, which draped down to her shoulders, and contrasted against her tanned skin. Silaas could only look on in amazement as he stood up.

“Al’abyad…” He muttered.

“Stop being an asshole and get him!” Shai screamed.

“Right!” Darius shouted back.

Finally going on the attack, Darius ran forward and struck at the target before he could properly regain his footing. Put on the defensive, Silaas desperately tried to draw his sword, or speak magic, but Darius’ flurry of pointed jabs denied him even the slightest leeway. The tables turned only when Silaas stumbled upon a ladder leaned against a nearby wall. He broke away from his hunter’s furious onslaught, grabbed said ladder, and slammed it into Darius’ side. Knocked to the ground, Darius was helpless as his target was finally able to draw his sword, but Silaas would not be so lucky as to end the fight there.

Out of the corner of his eye, the target spotted Shai, who was coming at him fast with a scimitar. He could barely turn before she was upon him, and lacking the time to defend himself properly, Silaas could only throw his left arm up to defend from what would have otherwise been a fatal cut to his neck. After the initial attack failed, Shai backed away, and quickly averted her eyes. Confused, Silaas was again taken off guard by a recovered Darius. He swung his sword at his attacker, but Darius ducked under, and pierced him in the armpit. He cried out in pain, dropped his sword, and stumbled away. He began to speak  the same word he had earlier, but Darius brought him to the ground long before he could finish.

“Don’t the think the same trick will work twice of the Great Darius!” Darius stated as he put his rapier to Silaas’ throat.

“Do you know what you’re doing!?” Said Silaas desperately, “The inquisition is doomed to fail, and then we’ll be able to live again! Why would you prolong that by killing us!?”

Darius rolled his eyes.

“Hey Shai.” He called.

“What?” Shai replied as she furiously wiped her sword down with an old rag.

“Do we get more for this one alive or dead?” Darius asked.

“I don’t think it specified.” Shai answered.

Darius shrugged, and turned his attention back to a wide eyed Silaas.

“And again I say, pray to your God that he may make your trip to heaven more comfortable than this trip to hell!”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Darius.” Shai chastised, while still facing away from the scene.

“What are you talking about? That one was great!” Darius pouted.

As he spoke, Silaas began to struggle beneath him.

“Oh, yeah.”

Without any further thought, Darius impaled his rapier through Silaas’ throat.