The guard stood bolt upright, before dropping like a stone to the stone slab paved floor of the corridor... The short, curved, obsidian blade pulling out from beside his spine with a grotesque ~schnik~ the wielder of the blade was already leaping over the body, soft, supple, leather boots padding silently across the tiles... The dark-cloaked figure running through the darkness, occasionally lit by flaming torches set in brackets.
Reaching the corner the feline pulled a short, snub-nosed crossbow with complex looking, loading mechanism from across his back... not a sound... it was time...
Winding the mechanism and loading a set of quarrels he stepped around the corner, facing the guards who were making a last stand around a rich looking figure beside a locked oak door at the end of the corridor.
A streak of silver, a bolt shot from the nose of the crossbow, striking the first guard in the chest, the next bolt sped across the distance to the guards, planting itself in his shoulder. The last guard crumpled as a bolt made its new home in his forehead, the last standing fur backed against the door, fear flew across his face.
“Who... who are you?! Why did you kill my men?!”
The assassin stood; feet planted firm on the flagstone... eyes glinting he cocked his head, examining the figure with contempt...
“It would seem you owe much to the guild, Duke Ferdinand...”
The duke recoiled, paw scrabbling for the handle on the door behind him as the dark clad feline strode purposefully towards him... releasing a cry of fear he turned and pulled on the iron ring with all his might, even as the dark obsidian blade pierced him, driving through and out from his chest, dark blood running in rivulets like mercury across its surface. He fell, to his knees, sliding down the oaken door, gilt tunic stained with blood...
The feline pulled the blade back out, wiping it across the duke’s fine clothing...
“It would also seem... you owe... no more...”