Artyom had never been one for Royalty, reasoning always alluded him when people defended their various Kings and queens [i]'I rule cause my parent ruled or some decree said so...better men and women have died in service of these rulers'[/i] he thought grimly as he walked through the market. Like most in his trade, very few people if any noticed him. Artyom was a cuthroat, a spy, assassin and rouge that worked for whoever had the most coin to give. Slowly Artyom weaved through the crowds of people, his bright green eyes scanned the people as they passed by him. The town was alive with gossip, some saying the queen was dead, that her captain of the guard was to blame. Artyom smiled slightly at the fact [i]'Seems someone took the contract'[/i] several days prior Artyom was approached by a young woman approached him one night while he drank at the 'last stop' with a contract.
"The queen must die and the knife left...in return my employer is willing to pay you more then you could ever use in two life times." She said as she put a dagger on the table.
He had turned down the job, the woman had given him a bad feeling, besides he knew the owner of the dagger, not personally but by reputation. The guard captain was an honour bound woman, he knew the sting of being a scape goat... He knew she didn't deserve what awaited her. He had to help her, if not for the fact he hated powerful people using others for their own goals.