A Confrontation in the Tavern

The setting sun did nothing to quiet or dampen the livelihood coming from the town surrounding the Castle Eria in the Kingdom of Lunaria. These were a people who thrived at night, and one could argue that the kingdom was more lively under the pale light of the moon than it was in the day. So as the sun set, no one paid any heed to the sudden influx of people into the tavern, and no one gave any second glances toward those whose gold was good. Everyone sat with someone else, and almost every table had at least two people occupying it. Almost.

There was one table, at the back of the tavern, where one man sat alone. Dressed almost entirely in black leather, he kept to himself, so much so that he was all but forgotten by the other tables. He seemed to be resting, though it was hard to tell under the cowl he was wearing, as no one could see his face. In reality, he was watching every face that came through the door, scrutinizing every movement made, looking for something interesting to happen.

Most of the time, when he came into taverns like this, he was just waiting for something to make his day interesting. The bow on his back and the sword lying at his side was enough to deter any who would challenge him directly, but he doubted any of the patrons who came here would give him much of a challenge anyway. Normally, he was off wandering the kingdom doing one thing or other, but there were rare occasions, such as tonight, where he just wanted something to break the tedium his life had become.

Sometimes he got his wish in forms of fights. Every now and again, a particularly drunk patron would put up a good fight with another, until the bouncer broke them up and kicked them out, not always in that order. But the real treasures he searched for were the legends inevitably told when people got together like this. He believed that a good legend was often true, and if he was interested enough, he would investigate. He had never actually gained anything out of this, but it was much more interesting than his normal line of work.

He had been sitting in the tavern for nearly three hours before something finally happened. An old man was telling a legend of a great lost sword, but it was one the man had heard before. The blade in question was supposedly one of the Regalias, a weapon that granted incredible power to the right wielder. He had no interest in seeking out such a weapon. His own sword served him quite well, and even if he did somehow find the weapon, which had been lost for countless centuries, the chances that it would grant him its power were so slim; it wasn’t even worth the inevitable adventure. However, there was something different about the way this man told the story. He spoke with such detail and conviction, even singling out the weapon instead of just saying it was a Regalia, that made the dark watcher reconsider. Perhaps he should listen more closely to the tale……

His thoughts were interrupted when another man sat down across from him. By his uniform, he was instantly identifiable as a member of the Lunarian Army. A Lieutenant no less. He ordered a mug of beer and started addressing his black clad partner.

“Well, you’ve got some nerve in coming this close to the castle. Didn’t think we would find you?”

The darkly dressed man straightened up at that, his face still obscured by the cowl. “I am afraid I have no idea what it is you are talking about, sir.”

The soldier chuckled at that. “Don’t play games with me Silva, we’re both too smart for that. It took three years to finally find you, but it was your own boldness that took you down.”

At this, the dark man reached up and put the hood of his cowl down. His hair was black and unkempt. His eyes were a deep sapphire blue, eyes that radiated coldness and seemed that they were carefully analyzing everything they saw, which they usually were. His face was very handsome, and a wickedly deep scar ran diagonally across his right eye.

“Ok, I’ll admit, you found me.” He said, calmly and coolly.  “But I’m afraid the game isn’t over quite yet.”

“What the hell do you mean?” The soldier asked, taking a drink from the mug the serving girl had placed in front of him at that point. “I had five soldiers out there, surveying the entrance. There is no way to get out without any of my boys seeing you.”

“Do you think you are the first Lunarian soldier to find me along these years? Do you think I haven’t killed others of your very rank in almost the same situation I’m in now? You have no idea who you’re messing with.”

“Cocky, aren’t we? You sell yourself too much. I am a lieutenant of the Lunarian army, and you were only a squire before you became a criminal. You killed your superior in his sleep, I’m wide awake, and ready for you to try something. I’m better trained, better experienced, and smarter than you Silva Darkmoon! You are nothing, not even worth pursuing.”

Silva crossed his arms over his chest at that. “Not worth pursuing eh? Then why are you here?”

That seemed to put the lieutenant off his guard, but to his credit, he didn’t miss more than a single beat before retaliating. “I’m here because the higher ups seem to think otherwise. I’m here because apparently you are dangerous. Just try and kill me. There is nothing you can do against me, no way to get a blade in me. And even if you could somehow hit me, everyone in this room would instantly know who you and what you are. I am completely safe. Completely s-"

He cut off abruptly, and grasped his throat. He looked down horrified at the mug of beer he had just downed. He tried to shout, but no sound would come out. He began to lunge at Silva, but stopped himself.

Silva began talking, in his cold and merciless voice. "So you fell victim to your own logic. As it is, not one will here you as the poison works it way through your veins. No one will know you are dead until long after I'm gone. If you attack me to alert people, I can easily run you through and say it was an act of self defense. Let me tell you something Lieutenant." He pulled his cowl back up. "Don't ever tell a master assassin that you are completely safe."

The soldier's eyes widened in a mixture of hatred and terror, and then, soundlessly, he slumped back. Quickly, Silva closed the dead man's eyes, to make it seem as though he was merely asleep. He looked up and saw the serving girl approach him.

"Did he like his drink?" She asked. "When you asked me to put something extra into the cup of anyone who sat at your table, I thought it a little odd. But now that I see your friend is a Lieutenant, I can understand wanting to give his drink a little
kick."

"Yes, he enjoyed it very much. Thank you. However, my friend was a little exausted from his work, and the drink was simply too much for him. He will pay for our bill when he awakes." The serving girl nodded and walked off.

Silva started for the door, but changed his mind halfway. He walked over to the table where the old man had been telling the story of the Regalia, and quickly stole the disscusstion.

"Have any of your heard tales of an assassin roaming the kingdom?" He asked, mysterious under his cloak.

"An assassin?" One of the more drunk patrons at the table asked. "I heard o' many killers in the parts o' this kingdom, but none very impressive."

"Oh, I've heard of one lately," One of the only sober patrons said, "a good one too. He always kills in different ways, but he leaves marks at the sites of the kills, making sure no one else takes credit for his kills."

"Silva Darkmoon," Silva said. "Formerly, he was a squire in the Lunarian army. He was one of the best covert soldiers they had, and was unmatched in his ability to move around unseen. Rumor says that his direct superior was murdered in his sleep, the same night Silva deserted from the army. In the three years that have ensued, the bounty on his head has been steadly rising. And every time a soldier gets close to his trail, they wind up dead."

"And you actually believe tha'? Shoo, no of'ense sir, but you's gots it mixed up. We supposed to believe that a squire is a master assassin? On' who can kill elite soldiers?" This remark came from another drunk.

"Actually, word on the street says he's for hire." Silva whispered. "If you draw the symbol he leaves at the sites of his kills onto a sealed letter witht he information of your hit on it, that letter will find him, and that person will die. The hit could happen anywhere, at anytime, in any way, but the person will die. Silva never fails." With that, Silva got up and walked out the door. It was only then that everyone at the table realized that the sleeping man in the back wasn't snoring, and that his chest wasn't moving.