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A lone eagle soars over the recently conquered city Sarfilas, where below a holy knight paces the gallows, preaching to a crowd the sins of the men that hang before him. Murmurs of appreciation and roars of contempt emanated from the crowd gathered around the man.
As the bird lifts up and over the nearby church bell tower, a figure appears, intent on the scene below – his atire stark and white against the dirty, rubble-strewn city. The bell begins to toll noon as the man drops into the square below, his red lined white cloak streaming behind him. He stalks quietly and steadily through the jeering throng, gently pushing aside those in his path. At the fourth bell, he begins a slow run, now shoving those that aren’t wise enough to step aside. From atop the raised gallows, he is spotted. The knight’s guards draw their weapons, and the white-cloaked figure drops into a sprint. In a flash, a spinning blade takes down the first soldier. The second swings once before the attacker has dropped him as well. Heads turns at the spectacle, and citizens cry in fear. At the sixth bell, the assassin leaps. Time seems to slow, and the crowd blurs as a hidden blade emerges from his arm. The victims eyes widen, stumbles backwards, and trips as the blade finds his neck. In the stunned silence, the assassin reaches down and reverently closes the dead mans eyes, and then the chase is on.
Guards surge forward, weapons drawn, and rush after the murderer as he launches into a nearby alley. The crowd draws back from the chase, as required under pain of death. One guard stops, and blows a bull horn hanging from a worn leather strap. Senconds later, the *thud* of the city closing resonated throughout the city. The man in white jumps off a street-side stoop, and pulls himself on the roof. Along the tops of buildings he runs, bolts and arrows from bows whistling through his wake. Circling back to the cathedral door, he calmly turns, and is totally surrounded by his foes. Gaurds draw their swords, and others stationed on the roofs aim projectiles at his chest.
The twelfth bell tolls. The doors open and a sea of white-robed monks emerge from afternoon prayer. Standing openly still, in the bright light of day, the assassin completely disappears.