A young man, with the eyes of an old one, raced through the market. Swerving around corners, tipping baskets, he sent people head over heels, all the while picking pockets dry. It's not like they couldn't afford it, he was in the upper class market where no-one thought twice about the servants that did everything for them, food that appeared hot and ready thrice a day, and the magnificent roofs over their heads taken for granted with ease. The thief had been running for quite a while, leaving chaos in his wake, chaos that would no doubt be gone without a trace the very next day. Only the thought of the pitiful, poverty stricken faces waiting back home kept him going. They depended on him, she needed him. He turned a corner. The sound of running footfalls growing louder behind him.

The brick, though crumbling, appeared to be sturdy enough, and the barrel was placed at just the right angle... He judged the distance. Coiling the strength in his legs as he bent them, the young man jumped. Rebounding off the barrel, he grabbed the edge of a nearby stall and hoisted himself onto the roof, disappearing from view just as his pursuers rounded the corner. He leaps across rooftop after rooftop, avoiding the searching gazes of guards expertly as he did so. Keeping to the darkened corners and protective shadows, he makes his way home. As he ran, adrenaline heightened senses kept track of everything going on around him. Including the murderous man from his past.

He crouched behind the nearest building, observing the scene before him. A young couple, rich and carefree, sat laughing in their carriage. His lips curled in disgust, the gnawing guilt in his gut ebbed a little as his gaze focused, focused on the target.

The woman laughed, her fiancé leaned back, pleased with himself. They came to a stop, and with a twirl of her fine, silken skirts, she disappeared into the gleaming ivory columns and intricately carved stone that made up a most intimidating mansion, bodyguard trailing in her wake.The assassin moved. The moment the carriage turned the corner, it was gone without a trace. His target lay in all his riches at the bottom of the River Hern.

The thieving assassin blinked, it was him. The bodyguard that had so clearly fallen in love with his mistress stood there, and so close to the young man's home too. No good could come of this he decided, slipping away.