The Warriors Path Part 4

Meanwhile on another continent, a council meeting is being held in a large room, surround by hundreds upon hundreds of candles, eleven people, shrouded in black, hoods pulled up, hiding their faces, sitting around a silver, smooth, circular table.
One said “He has been found”
Another said “Where is his location?”
A third replied “In Sleepywood, he has been taken in by a resident Cleric and has no memory”
“Is the team ready?” Said the first figure
“Yes” Answered a fourth “We’ve hired a mercenary team to kill or capture him, whichever is easiest or comes first”
There is a general nod of agreement around the table.
A fifth person stood up “Can they be trusted? Will they succeed?”
“Probably not” replies the first “but they can be eliminated easily, should they give us any trouble”
The one standing turns to the first “Will they succeed?” he asks again.
“They should” says a sixth “if he has no memory then they should easily defeat him in combat”
The one standing was not satisfied by this answer.
“If you are worried about him truly awakening then one of us will have to deal with him personally” says a seventh.
There was a general mutter of agreement around the table and the one standing, sits back down, visibly annoyed.
“Then it will be decided, should the mercenary team fail, who will go to detain or eliminate him at the next meeting, and on that note, this concludes this council meeting”

* * *

Katrina was still in the living room clearing up the two, now empty bowls; she picks them up and takes them through to the kitchen to be washed.
“I’ll call him Jay then, seeing as that’s the only thing he can remember” Katrina says to herself, while she fills up the basin and pulls out a scrubbing brush, but she notices a faint scratching sound.
Katrina spins around holding the scrubbing brush up like a club, only to see that no-one was there, but she can see Jays’ journal on the desk, the source of the scratching sound. She creeps cautiously up to the book, scrubbing brush still raised, and opens it to see words, scratching themselves, in ink, onto the paper. This must be enchanted to write everything that happens, she chuckles reading the first impressions that he received of her, but she quickly flicks to where the words are being newly written.
There are people outside it reads assassins and bandits armed to the teeth.
“That can’t be right…” she says reaching for her staff, just as a sharp a man delivers a sharp blow to the back of her head, then she sees only black.

* * *

“My razor still is as sharp as ever…” I say to myself while looking at my smooth, freshly shaved face in the mirror, I can hear Katrina cleaning away the bowls downstairs and something else, just on the edge of hearing. I walk over to the window in the bathroom and look outside, peering through the curtains I see dark shapes moving towards the house. They’re coming for you says a voice “what?” I say out loud “who’s coming for me?” my head is throbbing like mad now, they want you back, “who want me back?” I cry out in pain and anguish, a dark room surrounded by light, people watching, waiting.
“I need a weapon” I have my razor, I frantically look through the tiny room and my search yields me a fruit knife, now I have a razor and a fruit knife. My head is burning and my vision, fading and the last thing I hear before my vision completely fades is the sound of Katrina hitting the floor after she’s knocked unconscious by the first of the assassins. I hate assassins…and rage engulfs me and all I see now is red.

* * *

Gabrin was, like most others in this group, a hardened criminal brought up by the alleyways, nooks and crannies of Kerning City and took this job because he thought it would be easy money.
Gabrin was the first of the Mercenaries to die, Gabrin entered in through the second storey bathroom window, when he did he was grabbed from behind by an unseen assailant and his neck was promptly, quickly and quietly broken, and his body quietly lain on the floor, his reef claw and his assorted mix of throwing stars were looted from his corpse and his attacker, moved silently, through the shadows.

* * *

Samil was leader of the mercenary group that was hired to either “capture or kill”, the mystery man who was staying here. When he heard the bones break in Gabrin’s neck he only frowned, he knew he wasn’t being paid enough for this. He silently motioned to the rest of his group to take and kill him. The man to his left, a nimble skinny man that was hired from a maximum security prison, sent there for several gruesome murders, just moved a fraction out of the shadows and received a shuriken to the face, instant death.
Immediately the others dispersed, hiding in the shadows of the living room, there were seven assassins in total, five now that two had been slain, each specialised in knife claw and shuriken, one dashed to where the girl lay unconscious, and held a knife to her neck, he was the next victim as his hand was sliced off, he screamed for the rest of his short life as a second one cut his head, clean off.
What the hell are we up against?! Thought Samil, and just as he thought those words he saw the thing that was dispatching his men with ease.

* * *