1 Wrong time, wrong place... [Opened / No Kill] Sat Dec 27, 2014 4:10 pm
The Jackal
D-rank
The Black Salt Harbor
This particular harbor was known for its nightlife, and as such a high number of inns and taverns were building around it. A large number of boats were docked at the pier, indicating that a fairly large number of people could be found on that day. Like a firework upon the eerie black sky, this place was vividly shimmering within its misty presence. It was a fine establishment, visited by most of the people who stood in the nearby area; however, they were not the only ones who were visiting this place. The number of people was slightly larger this time, as a few ships with exotic supplies just docked in for the night.
Curious was The Jackal’s nature, and a such he was on his way towards this fine establishment. With his money earned from different types of assignments and labor, the man was looking for a place in which he could spent them. On his way towards the harbor, a terrifying and screeching sound perturbed the silence around him. The ronin startled and immediately threw his eyes all over his surrounding, trying to find the source from which this dreadful sound had emerged. Another one followed up, this one was even louder than the previous one, and as such The Jackal could easily tell from which part it came from. Without further ado, he began dashing against the harbor in order to inspect the event which was occurring in this dank night.
His heart was racing while he kept running towards the unknown; there were little words to describe how the harbor was looking beneath his eyes. Like a fireplace it shone within the distance, as some of the buildings were set on fire. Different kinds of people were running from a corner to another, yelling, screaming and shouting. Apparently, a group of organized bandits were aware about the exotic supplies that just arrived, and as such their aim was to procure these boxes. The harbor was under attack.
These bandits were all wearing a matching attire, with the base color being purple. A black scarf was wrapped around their faces in order to preserve their identity; heavily armed and dangerous for the untrained villagers. Guards were running from a place to another, either desperately fighting against this organized crime, or helping the others with the evacuation of the unarmed villagers. The Jackal was now standing just a couple of feet away from the incident, hidden beneath the eerie shadows of the forest.
The ronin did not want to lose his life, although he did not wish for others to die as well.
440 Words
This particular harbor was known for its nightlife, and as such a high number of inns and taverns were building around it. A large number of boats were docked at the pier, indicating that a fairly large number of people could be found on that day. Like a firework upon the eerie black sky, this place was vividly shimmering within its misty presence. It was a fine establishment, visited by most of the people who stood in the nearby area; however, they were not the only ones who were visiting this place. The number of people was slightly larger this time, as a few ships with exotic supplies just docked in for the night.
Curious was The Jackal’s nature, and a such he was on his way towards this fine establishment. With his money earned from different types of assignments and labor, the man was looking for a place in which he could spent them. On his way towards the harbor, a terrifying and screeching sound perturbed the silence around him. The ronin startled and immediately threw his eyes all over his surrounding, trying to find the source from which this dreadful sound had emerged. Another one followed up, this one was even louder than the previous one, and as such The Jackal could easily tell from which part it came from. Without further ado, he began dashing against the harbor in order to inspect the event which was occurring in this dank night.
His heart was racing while he kept running towards the unknown; there were little words to describe how the harbor was looking beneath his eyes. Like a fireplace it shone within the distance, as some of the buildings were set on fire. Different kinds of people were running from a corner to another, yelling, screaming and shouting. Apparently, a group of organized bandits were aware about the exotic supplies that just arrived, and as such their aim was to procure these boxes. The harbor was under attack.
These bandits were all wearing a matching attire, with the base color being purple. A black scarf was wrapped around their faces in order to preserve their identity; heavily armed and dangerous for the untrained villagers. Guards were running from a place to another, either desperately fighting against this organized crime, or helping the others with the evacuation of the unarmed villagers. The Jackal was now standing just a couple of feet away from the incident, hidden beneath the eerie shadows of the forest.
The ronin did not want to lose his life, although he did not wish for others to die as well.
440 Words