Being an assassin was one of those jobs his father had told him someone had to do. As it was his family had been assassins way back to the renowned and infamous medieval assassin Art the Archer known primarily for his exploits in bringing about the end of Steve the Spearer.
Today he was on a job to take out Katey the Tent purveyor. Katey had in recent times angered the tent fraternity with her claim modern tents were not strong enough in a cyclone.
She was into the reinforced calico canvas, and the modern synthetic materials were not cutting it as far as she was concerned.
She’d published articles in the Tent Makers Guild Magazine stating her concerns. But forces bigger than Katey had taken over the Tent business and as far as they were concerned Katey’s day had come, and she’d hammered in her last tent peg.
So here he was poised to take her out. It would be an easy shot. Modern weaponry had made his job so much easier than in the days of his grandfather. Through the sights on his rifle, he could easily see her. A thin girl, running after her dog, throwing a ball and generally oblivious to what was about to hit her.
It was over in a second, and he packed up his gear, a well-practised art, and headed off back through the forest to his car. Once there he vanished into obscurity.