He sat there. Hidden. Unseen from even the keenest of eyes.

The Baron was cloaked in his old gear. Black spider silk pants. A dull black leather vest and undersleeves. Suede boots. Nothing shining. Nothing polished. Just blackness...as pure as the night itself.

And he waited.

The trees above him swayed slightly as decaying leaves fell to their final resting place.

And he waited..

The northern forests were cold and bitter compared to the warm, salty air of Riverdale. It reminded him of his childhood. His hiding. Crouched in shadows, this is what he was trained to do.

Was he the young con artist and thief he used to be? Perhaps not anymore. His old friend was right to be angry. But he never forgot his training... He_NEVER_forgot his training...

And he waited...

He wasn't a Baron. Not at that moment. Now he was simply who he once was. He was Vesper. Trained in the art of silence...quicker than a halfling, darker than the deadliest of necromancers...

For years he put on the impression that he was just trained enough to defend himself. A merchant who carried a knife "just in case." But those he grew up with knew him better than that. The men who raised him in sewers and fed him rats...who taught him the most devilish of tricks and the sleight of hand...had also taught him the most deadliest of means to get something he wanted when all else failed...

The assassin still waited...

He had not brought this side of himself out and well over 5 years. But when the Baron slipped on his old gear...he forgot all about his noble duties...he forgot all about taxes, treaties, alliances and the very gold he has always held so dear.

Footsteps were heard down the long lost path. The waiting was over.

The massive ogre slowly walked along the path with what seemed to be fresh blood dripping from his lips. Indeed, the monster had just feasted. Would it have tasted any better if he had known it to be his last?

The ogre stopped for a moment and readjusted his breast plate. It seemed a bit small for a being of his size. Behind him, a black raven cawed.

The ogre turned around slowly and stared at the obsidian black bird perched on a rotting stump. The ogre snarled slightly.

At that instant, the Baron lept from the bushes. The ogre swung around quickly but not fast enough. The Baron slung a mithril-coated rope at the beast, tangling up it's legs. The ogre fell down and hard.

The Baron stood back, his face hidden in the dark although the rest of him was more than visible. He watched as the ogre flailed about, trying to remove the mithril, but to no avail. The mighty creature than grabbed his sword, but the rope would not cut...the Baron smiled. He was glad the man he stole that rope from in his youth was not lying about it's power when he was trying to sell it to him.

The ogre began snorting, snarling and spitting. It appeared as if he was trying to speak in some form of primitive tongue. The Baron cared not and slowly approached the creature...becoming visible for the first time.

The ogre's eyes went wide with hate. He began to snort and snarl louder than before. The Baron chuckled slightly but it faded, as he knealt down just out of the ogre's reach.

"I know you can't speak my words, ogre, but I know you can understand me. And now you will understand this. You may or may not hail from the Parath Deep but I know you know those creatures. And while I had hoped that I could make a crown or two off every house and clan about these lands, your boys haven't exactly paid up anything worth keeping."

The ogre snarled and flailed his arms about again. The Baron smacked the monster on the back of his head.

"Calm down, big guy, you aren't going anywhere."

The ogre stopped, but snarled deeply while stuck on his back.

"In fact, all they have offered are threats. Threats pointed at my merchants.

Threats I do not take kindly to. See, insults are one thing...but threats? That's another matter altogether. NOBODY...

The Baron leaned closer...

"...nobody...threatens my merchants..."

The ogre just stared right back at the Baron while taking massive, frustrated breaths.

"So, I want you to deliver a message to your friends up north, ogre. You tell them that Riverdale is simply a peaceful house...a house of business. But if I so much as even detect one THOUGHT of a threat towards the Emerald City and the people who live there...they will not only have to deal with a swarm of bloodthirsty Ravens...but also...when the time is ready..."

The Baron knealt down right next to the ogre's ear.

"...they will have to deal with me."

A dead silence filled the air as both human and ogre stared at each other without saying anything.

"Actually..."

The Baron leaned back slightly.

"I have a way of telling them myself."

At the exact moment the ogre went to take a quick blink, the Baron unsheathed his deadly stiletto and sliced the ogre's throat clear through. The serrated weapon tore through the beast's flesh quite easily and simply left a thin, red line across it's neck.

The Baron wiped the blood off of his weapon on his shirt and returned it to it's casing. He looked down at the slain beast for a moment. Reaching behind him...

The Baron pulled out a black raven feather...

...and dropped it upon the ogre's slain body. And with that, the Baron walked away...his Raven circling high overhead...

His old friend was right. He had changed.

His goals had changed.

But the means in which he used to achieve them...

...had not.