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Old 07-07-2012, 10:38 PM
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Default [WAR XI] Changing History {Rated for 16+} [Judged]

Rated 16+ for gore and other themes that, really, younglings shouldn't read. However, I know you'll just read this anyway xP

The moon, arched in a 'C'-like position, looked triumphant in the clear night sky. The light it shone was limited, but it allowed for me to see well enough in the dark. Its pointed shape was reflected on the puddles of urine throughout the street – myself making sure I avoided walking through them. Although a majority of people disregarded their care for hygiene, I, personally, liked to avoid any unnecessary messes. With my dark cloak tightly wrapped around me, I continued on.

As my footsteps echoed through the large street, I took care to take in my surroundings – I was approaching the castle with houses to my left and my right. The King enjoyed being able to show himself off to his peasants through the use of his large castle by their homes – he wanted to create a positive image of himself (be it throwing out gold or handing out a loaf of bread to each poor family once a week) so that, when the people found out about his fetish for young orphan girls, they wouldn't truly believe it, disregarding the new-found information. I spat in frustration.

As I neared the low, but well-guarded, castle walls, I surveyed the area before me: Two guards, who were marching across the top of the wall, were about to pass one another; as soon as they had crossed paths, I would have an opening to jump up and slip inside the King's territory – unnoticed.

The heavy clanking of their armour grew louder and louder as they neared each other. Pressing myself closer to the wall, I seemed to blend in with the darkness itself. I looked to my left – a guard was stationed at a nearby gate into the castle grounds, yet he was too far away to notice me standing there, waiting for my chance to slip in.

The clanking passed one another and, in the blink of an eye, I had pulled myself up and rolled forward, falling down and then landing on my feet – I found myself on the other side of the wall. I had successfully infiltrated the area, part of my job complete.

Whilst crouched, I made my way quickly around the grounds. I avoided many encounters with several posted guards, through the use of shrubbery and the King's fondness of topiary to conceal myself. Having surveyed a plan of the building beforehand, I knew that I was going in the right direction – but where was that damn door? I clenched my jaw as I counted down the valuable time in my head, continuing to search for that door...

I found it, the door itself concealed in the darkness – I had only just made out the metal frame of the door due to the limited moonlight reflecting from it, catching my eye. I slowly made my way towards it, nearing my objective.

The door opened and I jumped back, veering to my right and pressing myself against a curve in a wall of the castle. I held my breath as I heard somebody walk out into the night, the door closing behind them. Closing my eyes, I listened carefully. They didn't move for a few seconds, but it seemed like a lifetime to me. Just as I was needing to breathe, the person grunted and walked off – the familiar clink of metal following them. I sighed heavily with relief, having been worried that I would have been found out and killed – if this were to happen somebody else would have replaced me, but I didn't plan on dying today.

As I made my way to the door, I made sure to peer after whoever had came from it – it was a guard, as I had predicted, making his way to his post across the grounds. Opening the door, I found myself in a dingy cellar which was brightened by only the wooden torches bolted to the walls. I surveyed my surroundings, only certain torches had been lit up within the room – the ones that were ablaze and glowing seeming to show a path. I had been informed beforehand that somebody from the inside was working with us, their job to guide me throughout the castle. Of course, I had to look at a plan of the building much before I had started this mission, but I was not to know which room I had to get to, as well as the fact that memory was always a let-down.
I ran, following the path before me. The torchlight would lead me to my objective, then I would have to do the rest. I found myself racing up stairs, jumping into sudden left and right turnings – not once had I came into contact with anybody. Perhaps somebody else had helped us through re-arranging the guard shifts?

I stopped as the torchlight ended at two large, wooden doors. I clenched my fists, collecting myself for this next task. Removing a knife from my belt, I charged into the doors.

The King was taken aback as I crashed open the door and leapt into the room. Three knights came upon me (for they were guarding their King), one was quickly dispatched as I launched my knife into his left eye – the mixture of a jelly-like substance and blood quickly seeping out and covering his agonised face – he fell to the floor with a squeal. Before the other two could get to me with their swords I had grabbed hold of the King, a small dagger which I had pulled from my boot just before I grabbed hold of him resting on his throat. The two guards locked their eyes onto mine, the look on their faces portraying fear and worry – their King was being threatened.

“Don't kill me!” he cried, tears streaming down his face as he fell limp in my arm. “Who are you working for? I can pay you,” he begged, his appearance now seeming frail and weak. These two knights didn't seem used to seeing their leader, their King, pleading and quivering like a Fool when found unamusing. They exchanged uneven glances at one another, but then back to me with clear determination.

“Let him go – you will be dishonouring your country,” one explained, hand clasped firmly on the hilt of his sword. I eyed him venomously, then I looked around me – a desk to my back seemed to have a lantern lit, the fiery glow the only source of light in the room. The third knight was on the floor, dead – he had either bled out or my knife had penetrated his brain, killing him. All else I could see was a well-kept, neatly furnished room which smelled of lavender – fancy furniture filling the empty spaces.

“May God spare my life,” I said before bringing the dagger's blade across the King's throat. He gargled as the blood shot from his throat like a fountain, the crimson red liquid spraying itself across the two shocked knights – blood settling on both their armour and faces. The King knelt down, clutching at his throat desperately in an attempt to halt the spurting of his very life. One knight rushed to him in aid as the other charged at me with their sword raised high. I ducked away, the sword crashing into the oil lantern instead – flames jumped everywhere, setting alight the room and the attacker. He screamed in agony as the fire engulfed him, heating his armour and burning his skin; the burning knight charged out of the room, crashing through the two large doors seeking aid with his desperate cries. The other, who had attempted to help the dying King, would have followed him if I hadn't snapped his neck – the less hindrance for me the better.

I surveyed the area before me – flamed flickered about the room, the heat radiating to my body; the King was dead, his corpse still leaking blood as he lay there – lifeless; the two knights (one with the eye-wound and the other with a broken neck) were being slowly eaten by the flames that were burning throughout the scene. I caught a glimpse of a locked door – perhaps a closet – within the room itself. Still holding the bloody dagger tightly, I attacked the padlock viciously – I had no time to attempt picking the lock. Soon enough it broke free and I pried the door open – I was sickened by the sight. The body of a nine-year-old girl lay there wearing a torn dress; bruises were scattered across her body, the hair on her head showing balding patches where parts have been ripped out over and over again – she seemed to have died from a prolonged time of abuse. I kept myself composed on the outside as I wept on the inside for this poor girl – the man I had killed was a monster, nothing more and nothing less.

Soldiers of the now-deceased King stormed into the burning room, neglecting the fire around them. Each armed with a crossbow, they took aim at me. A lit torch was bolted to the wall behind them – it had been the last step of the mission for me. I stared into it for a second, taking in the deed I had just done – was it a sign of forgiveness from God, or was it the sign of liberation, our new-found freedom? I turned on my heels, running towards the only window in the room, the flames licking at all that was around me. I heard the whistling of arrows as they flew past me, crashing into the glass ahead. Launching myself forward, the glass shattered and I fell down.

My job was to assassinate the King – a vile creature who raped the young orphan girls of this country. He did nothing for us other than allow us to starve, but nobody hated him. He gave promise of money, food and good health – things he had been promising for the past five years while attending to his own needs. All but us were blind to see his true nature. With the King dead, we could take control and lead the people into a life with no poverty, no corruption and no evil. My action tonight has changed history, what happens to me from here on out is of no importance – what we do will hold a greater purpose and transform us into what our country is to become.

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