[IRP] Vanguard Rising

[Andy]

Ambrose grew annoyed quickly by the lock, and finally thrust his sword into the keyhole and pressed down. The mechanism stayed whole, but the lock broke from the wood, and Ambrose pulled open the door, looking into the dark room. A tall-ish, thin figure with sleep-tangled curls of blond hair and panicked brown eyes held a naked sword in his hand as he eyed Ambrose in turn. The assassin could see that the man was only just awakening from sleep, clad in braies and an undershirt.

"Who are you?" his voice squeaked out, quaking with fear. Ambrose closed the door behind him. It wouldn't lock, but amid panic, it might serve as something to deter awareness.

Then the screaming started. That'll be Tangle and Priam's work, he thought. Best finish this quickly.

Some guards, having come from the other direction, were frantically trying to empty the treasury of their mostly ill-gotten goods, understanding the predicament that they would be in if there was no money to go around.

"I am Death. For you, Pascal," Ambrose smiled grimly. Amusingly, Pascal looked indignant. He started to go on a tirade about how much better he was than the peons he ruled over and/or commanded, but Fred didn't let him finish, charging in and striking at him. The blow was heavy, but the young lord parried expertly, bringing the sword down on his armored arms. That would be a bruise, but a blade can't cut through a steel plate.

Pascal was a skilled swordsman, matching the mercenary blow for blow, an impressive feat to accomplish while naked of armor. Twice, Ambrose had to dodge otherwise fatal strikes. Finally, though, he was able to land a middle strike to the neck. Blood fountained from Pascal's ruined throat as he tried to scream for help, but no one came. The whole fight was over in two minutes.

The mercenary hated to ruin good glasswork, but what needed to be done, needed to be done. He shattered the glass latticework, sending the work down the hillside of snow. He then proceeded to the bloody work of using his own sword as an anchor for Pascal's body, and threw him out of his window. The sword was longer than the window was wide, so it worked. When morning came, the village would see Pascal, just as he'd promised Tangle.

He grabbed up Pascal's sword, a wonderful work of art in itself, found its scabbard, and belted it on, abandoning his former sheath and sword.

He went in search of his party. The assassination was complete, thanks to them, and the treasury was being emptied. Best to grab their share now and get out, before the fires consumed everything.