[Zoranius] Assassin

[Nylan]

And from the Goddesses themselves; his body was lifted with the swiftness of a thousand blessings, his hand guided by the grace of Din, his mind by Nayru, and his heart by Farore. So it should be that he who defies the Goddesses of Hyrule themselves shall be struck down by the messenger of fate.

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His dark eyes shifted, left to right, the pitter patter of a hundred feet resonating in his ears. The crowd was large, heavy, congested with the bustle of activity. The sun was ravishing the beauty of Hyrule with golden rays of summerset warmth. It was peaceful, tranquil, and all of an upbeat nature with nothing near aberrance for the majestic town. Knights roamed the streets, clad in shining armor of symbolism and pride, keeping order amongst the people with relative ease.

The bells rang out loudly as people dismissed from a small white church, removing themselves from the pews of oak. Four rows and two columns separated by the walkway between, it was the typical church filled to the top for the morning sermon. Green skin cloaked in an overly large black robe with two golden crosses embedded on the shoulders stood sublimely waiting for the people to filter out.

The last, a child of innocence and purity approached the stand, looking up to the emerald Zora with resistance. His heart spoke of confusion, but his mind of determination. So he had set forth the first step in revelations, the Zora stepped away from the stand, crouching onto his knee’s to meet eye to eye with the young one. With a voice of low, croaked, discerned kindness, he reached forth to mend the boys questioned heart. “What can I do for you?”

The boy stared momentarily, recalling the lessons his mother had implied on how to be reasonably polite in all ways. “Y-yes sir; I have a question sir.” He stuttered, his tongue clicking the roof of his mouth. “Nylan, I have heard rumors from some that you are an assassin, that you kill the bad people. That you murder the wicked; mother says they are lies, father says you are not to preach.” He bit his lip, fearing that he had exposed himself to someone who would merely strip him from Hyrule with a single motion.

Nylan reached a hand out, placing it gently on the boys shoulders. The boy flinched, fear coursing through his veins momentarily relying on instinct before realizing the Zora would not place him in harm’s way. “And what do you believe, if not the words that flow from the mouths of liars and deceivers?” His ring shined slightly, and the air suddenly grew arid and dry within the room, replenishing the Zora with hydrogen stripped directly from the air.

“I believe if you do…then you are right to do what our Kingdom refuses to.”

“Then I will speak truth to you that you must not repeat. What better a man to preach then one who has not faced a life of sin and infidelity? One day I will pay the ultimate price for my crimes; until then I will remove the branches that shade the light of our world.”

The boy nodded, and Nylan stood erect. Watching him leave, he breathed heavily in contemplation. Had he made a mistake to speak truth to a young boy in such a manner? Who would he be if he lied to one who searched for truth? As the doors to the church closed, and all had left, he approached the stairway to the bells with caution. Sliding a document from under the robe, he revealed the named of his target, the one he knew would be in town on this very day. Zolanius. Removing the robe and hanging it on the wall, he slid his hands into the black gloves, hiding his ring.

Under the robe was his average attire; two guns holstered and hidden under a cloth tucked into his belt; a black jacket covering his green skin and black pants tucked under black boots. He wore all black, for today was a blackened day, and only the future held a lantern to light the way. Making his way to the top, he slid his hand onto the copper bells, peering out over the crowded area from the heightened distance. Slowly descending to a lower roof below, he crouched down and simply watched.

Two guards on each corner, pacing back and forth with relative ease; their attention was spread out among the people, and dropping into the crowd, striking, and removing himself from the scene would prove to be relatively easy. He simply needed the moth to scatter to the flame, a doyen entering a trap in broad site.

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[Zolanius Thyre]

T'was a bright day in Hyrule as the townsfolk began to stir and wander, going about their day like any other. The church had just let out, meaning that now everyone was running around to finish the rest of their day. Amongst the crowd was Zolanius, walking around with his wings hidden, acting like a normal civilian. Weaving and slipping through crowds, he made his way to the plaza, a round walled area with a beautiful fountain in the center. It was a great place to relax, given the hustle and bustle, but the fountain and magnificent view of the castle was what set the mood, and thus everything was relaxed.

A minstrel group was playing in front of the fountain, singing great songs of praise to the Goddesses with lutes and other such instruments. Zolanius walked over and handed a red rupee to the lute player. "Your music is greatly appreciated, good sir. Here's to you so you can keep spreading the joy of music." Spoken with a true smile, he held out the stone. The Hylian minstrel gratefully took the rupee and bowed. "I thank you, my lord! I promise to keep playing songs of the Goddesses glory."

[Nylan]

His target was difficult to spot, but after some time he came into view. Immediately jumping into movement, he descended the Church, moving from roof top to roof top. Dropping into an alley, he moved to the edge. He had been quick and agile, and no one had quite noticed him. Moving into the crowd, he walked behind the target at a safe distance.

For one who knew to look for Nylan, it would be obvious. For one who had no idea, it would not. Nylan always took each contract differently, changing his technique every time. It was an art that he took pride in. As he passed a guard, he began counting the steps he was putting between them. Once he reached about fifty, he moved knew he would have enough time to pull the shot and fade as though he was never there.

Moving up behind Zolanius, he lifted his cloth and drew the pistol. Placing it directly on the Oocca's head upper back, pointing up so that the bullet would trail through the throat, he squeezed the trigger.