I am Argoth Dragmire, son of a forgotten merchant. Born in the slums and raised in the streets, I was forced to draw my wits around me; that or be killed by others. From the age of 6, I began my art of defense with small razors. It was then that I learned that through whom that holds the skill, holds the power. As I rose to prominence throughout the city in my teens, I became the target for many a thief's dagger. I was recruited into an assassin's guild, The Black Rose.

On one particular assignment. The Princep of Asguard, having just wrested control of the barbarian tribes, Cyrakal. He had come to secure an alliance with King Lyonsbane of Dominion. Our assignment was to make sure the Princep never made it.

Cyrakal was known to be an accomplished wizard. His entourage inclued his Fists, or personal elite bodyguards, numbering in four. Following through were three servants; fourth rank priests upon their pilgrimage journey to attain full priesthood. They were escorted through the streets earlier that morning and were allowed to take control of a large inn. The inn consisted of two floors, with the bottom floor having the tavern, a cellar, and a kitchen. Upstairs were five rooms, the third room was a large suite. Each room had a window with wooden shutters with a simple close lock. The Princep with a priest resided in the center. Two of the four remaining rooms were kept guarded by a priest each. Two members of The Fist were in the tavern taking guard, one in the upstairs hallway, and one more hidden in the cellar.

I came in with two of the highest ranked members of the guild; Dirk and Clyde. Clyde was an expert assassin, using throwing knives and hand to hand combat. Dirk used short swords and carried the crest of The Black Rose, which proved his command over it. As Dirk and Clyde went in from below, I climbed the side of the inn, shrounded in a cloak of shadows, and reached the 2nd window from the right. I gently pushed on the window shutters to test it, and found it locked still. Sliding in a sliver of metal, I gently lifted the lock mechanism up and over, and pushed in on the shutters to spy on a sleeping priest. With deft movements, I somersaulted into the room and landed as softly as a feather. Reaching around to the priest's head, I grabbed the pillow suddenly, turned it, and began to smother the priest's face. As he began to twist and flail around, I drove my dagger into his heart; drew it out and drove it in again repeatedly until the body finally relaxed its struggle.

Moving silently to the door, I opened it and heard foot steps coming. Stepping back and disappeared into the shadows. The door opened, and one of the Fists walked in, and saw the corpse right away. As he reached to draw his broadsword, he stopped.. and gasped. He found my dagger buried into his spine, paralyzing him (whether in fear or in all actuality), and drove my second dagger into the back of his neck and upwards into his skull. Leaving the daggers in place, I caught the corpse as it fell and dragged it inside quietly, and laid it down, walked into the hallway and closed the door.

I had six daggers left as I approached the middle door. I reached to the door knob to find it locked, so I knelt beside it. I drew out my lock pick again and carefully manuevered it inside the lock until I heard a *CLICK*. Opening the door slightly, I edged in to find the Princep conjuring a large fireball and launched at the door. I leapt out of the way just before it exploded into the door frame. Leaping back again, I flipped a dagger in hand, and as the second cleric moves out, launched it at him; embedding it into his forehead. Before the body hit the floor, I flipped another dagger and threw it at the body moving towards the hallway. The dagger soared through the air as the Princep darted out, but as it hit, it was repelled by some kind of force field.

He barked a command, and the last priest came out of a room, brandishing a twin axes. The first he hurled it at me, end over end. With very little room to move in the hallway I managed to dive down to the staircase, to avoid the axe, sliding on my back down the steps, I hurled a dagger upwards, as the cleric moved into my view. At the same time he sent down a frozen spear of ice, as the dagger tore through his chest. I tried to move out of the way, but the blast caught me in the upper left shoulder, sending me reeling into the tables. I looked around, and saw a man dead, and the cellar door open and heard voices of battle from below.

I peered up, to see the cleric fully healed, and enchanting his axe with a divine spell, he charged down the steps at me. I carefully waited until he was just a few steps away from the bottom before I exploded into action. I dove forward, ramming my uninjured shoulder into his gut, ducked and then sprung up, flipping him behind my back. I turned, and slashed my dagger down. He rolled aside narrowly. The cleric rolled to his feet and whirled his axe before charging and swinging at me. As the blade came within inches from me, I sidestepped and allowed the priest to continue moving past me from the axe's momentum, and drove a dagger into his gut as he passed, and another buried into his skull, dropping him lifeless, as Cyrkal came down.

Cyrakal was dressed in fine black leathers with grey trim and a grey collar. He drew back his hand and send out a wave of magica missiles flying at me. I ducked, weaved and dived to avoid them, but one managed to still clip me in the left ankle. I cringed, but the injury was minor. I stood up, as the mage finished mumbling something and vanished from sight. I dove to where he was before, swinging recklessly to no avail. My two brothers in the guild, rose from the cellar. Clyde was injured badly, a large tear from down his back. He winced and called over to inquire about the mage.

"Where is he," Cylde demanded.

"He vanished, some sort of invisibility," I replied.

"Well, FIND HIM damn it, we dont have all night! The door is locked, where the hell could he b-," Clyde froze midsentence. A lance of fire impaled him from the back, and through the chest. He took a step forward and the lance exploded, engulfing him in an inferno of flames.

I whirled around cautiously. I felt something behind me, and looked to Dirk as he shouted at me, "BEHIND YOU!"

I hit the floor, hard. As I rolled to the side, a large mass of rock and stone flew from the sky and crashed through the inn ceiling down to the floor where I had stood. The blast sent me flying into more tables, crashing to a painful stop. As I opened my eyes, my vision was blurred with the room in turmoil. One of the walls had begin to burn from Clyde, and there was a large hole through the ceilings, and where the meteor had crashed, you could see the earth beneath, with debris everywhere. I looked to see Dirk battling with a frost giant. The giant stood ten feet tall with chiseled muscles. As the joints moved, ice broke off of him. He swung at Dirk, and.. I ducked, a searing fireball flew over head. I turned to see Cyrakal begining to conjure another spell.

Realizing that this was my only chance. I had to stop him before he casted another spell, I drew out my second to last dagger and threw it. The mage moved out of the way, but not fast enough, the blade embedding itself into his leg, interrupting his spell. I spared a glance to Dirk, seeing him get hit with a glancing blow, but still with enough force to send him onto his back. I turned back to the Princep, and launched my last dagger, which he dodged. Cursing my look and failure, I began to move at him, when he drew a line down in midair, tearing the fabric of the realm. He reached through and withdrew a longsword. The blade had a blue tint but shimmered with white lightning, with swirls of flame. He pulled the sword back and charged to thrust.

This was it, I thought. And as the sword came at me, I stepped back, stumbled, and fell onto my back. Feeling around desperately I grasped hold of a fallen spear that one of the Fists had dropped. As the princep came within range, I suddenly stood up, grasping the polearm with both hands and drive it into his chest, and out his shoulder blade, tearing his heart. Cyrakal's eyes bulged as he froze and fumbled his sword. He took a few steps back and fell lifeless. With his death, the frost giant dissipated as well.

Dirk walked over with a big smile on his face. He clapped me on the shoulder and turned around to see our handiwork, as I slid out my lock pick and drove it into his neck. He jolted, as I reached to his side and drew his enchanted dagger that I knew he had, and pushed him forward, my front leg, catching in front of his, I lunged and toppled down on him, driving his own dagger into his spine, and wrenched it from, tearing it up along his back, and through his neck. I reached and snapped off his crest, and stood. My work is done. And as dozens of citizens came to see the wreckage and put out the flames, I walked out, triumphant.

Years later... I found myself leaving Dominion, traveling far and wide until I reached Stonegate. Here is a new land to draw my power.