The marketplace was bustling with people, sometimes making it hard to see through the thick bunches of faces and bodies. In a corner, where very few people
were straying, a tent was set up that was slightly larger than all those that were around it. The light bounced off of it's white canopy, casting shadows
on the ground that looked like fragments of stained glass. Outside the tent was a desk, at which a man sat wearing a white cloak with the hood raised to shadow
his face. Showcases all around him allowed the gleam of the rare gems and gold pieces to be displayed to the wandering eye. There were so many things like
strange looking daggers, emblems, gems, hair pieces, jewelery, and anything else that a normal merchant may not have such extravagantly. The banner above the
stall said; "Warehouse of Rare Findings", and to any normal passerby, it would look just like that. To any trained professional who could see the
emblem of the cross in a circle would know that they were really assassins looking for work.
Outside, at the desk, the man sat with his eyes always looking about, two other men sitting near him. It was a tight squeeze in that small space outside the tent, but all of them knew that it would be worth it in the end.
Inside the tent, they were waiting. The secret weapon, the one that was looking for a job. They rested inside the cool shade and protection of the tent, surrounded by a various assortment of weapons. Instead of the white robes that the others wore, this one was covered in a lack one. Thin, fragile looking ashen hands snaked out from beneath the black fabric, carying a lighter version of it's hue. The fingers grabbed the hood, pulling it down further over it's face, hidding from the rest of the world like the expert that they were.
Now all they had to do...was wait.
Outside, at the desk, the man sat with his eyes always looking about, two other men sitting near him. It was a tight squeeze in that small space outside the tent, but all of them knew that it would be worth it in the end.
Inside the tent, they were waiting. The secret weapon, the one that was looking for a job. They rested inside the cool shade and protection of the tent, surrounded by a various assortment of weapons. Instead of the white robes that the others wore, this one was covered in a lack one. Thin, fragile looking ashen hands snaked out from beneath the black fabric, carying a lighter version of it's hue. The fingers grabbed the hood, pulling it down further over it's face, hidding from the rest of the world like the expert that they were.
Now all they had to do...was wait.
