Cavello moved through the forest with ease born from many years of training as an assassin. His bow strapped upon his back his dagger strapped to his thigh, and his broadsword wrapped in cloth to avoid any noise as it hit against his leg. He looked around his piercing soulless green eyes ever alert for signs that something was amiss. His dark cloak and hood helped him blend into the dark forest. He stopped by a small stream crouching and using his hand to bring the water to his dry lips so he could keep his eye on his surroundings. Having his fill of water he stood up looking around he picked out tree and no sooner had he decided he was scaling it. Going midway hidden in the leaves, he secured himself in a position against the tree so he would not be in danger of falling out of it. Then with his hand on his dagger he closed his eyes and went to sleep. His sleep plagued with the nightmare that was his past. He had heard his mother's screams before he had smelt the smoked of the burning house; he had dropped his playthings and ran to his home to find a man on top of his mother and another torching the house. Rage had made his small frame shake as he ran toward the man violating his mother his fist ineffectual against the man's back. The man had laughed and pushed him back with his arm making him fall and hit his head on a rock. When he woke he was bound in the back of a wagon. The group of assassin’s had killed his mother and kidnapped him and thus began Cavello's years of training; they trained him in the art of murder and stealth, of lying and deception. He was skilled in using his bare hands to kill a man or weapons. The only thing he refused to do was kill a woman, and in the end that had been his downfall. He had been ordered to kill a WoS spy, she was beautiful and kind and after he spent months getting to know her he was sure she was not a spy. So he had refused to kill her, instead he had married her and she had been expecting their first child when he left on an assignment. It was like his childhood nightmare had come to haunt him, he had heard her screams from inside the forest and he had ran but when he came to their home she was dead her blood pooled around her body, her stomach cut open the child gone. He let out a roar and after burying his love. He went after the assassins, and one by one had killed them all from the youngest to the oldest he had killed them. He was the last of the elite assassins. But he was never too careful he had lived the last years traveling his skills hired out, never allowing himself to feel anything. The only time he felt anything was when he dreamed. He woke covered in sweat his heart pounding wildly in his chest knowing that anymore sleep was impossible he climbed down the tree and drinking some more water, went on his way again.
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