prolog

Boom ... boom ... boom ...
At first it was just an echo, a muffled roar, a reverberation of the real drums.
Boom ... Dam, Dam, Dam, Boom ... Dam, Dam, Dam, Boom ...
It came closer, grew louder, nail-studded boots, marching in unison, calling for blood.
"Right!",
bellowed a dwarf captain as the army reached a fork. The drums and footsteps were no longer echoes but real, and the sound of them made the blood boil. Shadows danced on the walls now, created by the dwarfs' lanterns.
Boom ... Dam, Dam, Dam, Boom ... Dam, Dam, Dam, Boom ...
The light disappeared, the drums and steps became just a hall again, which grew quieter and quieter and soon faded away. It was like the army had never been here.

Pale moonlight lit the alleys. Dark, towering buildings that looked like they were about to decay lined the streets. Several figures, ready to fight, crouched in their hiding places and waited. They were crossbowmen and knife fighters, but the typical clubs were missing. A well-trained group that was more suited to a battlefield than an ambush. Her victim, a tall warrior, came straight at her. Only at the last moment did he notice the trap and run. Too late. Three bolts at a time hit him in the back and killed him on the spot. Before he even touched the ground, the assassins had disappeared into the darkness and only the red rising sun was calling accusingly for retribution.