text: Past the tangling trees and budding flowers of the Forest of Dreams was one of Vendar's many trade routes. It was a well sculpted gravel path that cut right through the trees with plenty of room to spare. And it just so happened to be one of Sinetah's favorite spots to stake out. She lay in waiting, nestled in a vibrant green bush, with her eyes peering through a small opening in the growth. There wasn't much sound, save the caws and cries of animals and monsters that called the forest home. *I wonder how long it will take this time.* Taking a brief moment to brush her hair out of the way of her left eye, Sinetah let her hand caress the hilt of her left dagger. Both were enchanted years ago with durability, and would return to her hands if thrown, which often came in handy during difficult situations. Though it still wasn't the best option against foes decked in heavy armor, it made the battles more manageable during the uncommon occurrence that she had to face against one or several opponents who fit that description. Sinetah was unsure if whoever she would pounce on today would have such guardsmen around them. Most merchants could not afford services of men and women like that, so they often were alone. And a large majority of nobles would use different routes, or arrive in expensive carriages that Sinetah would usually let pass if it was more than she felt she could handle. The Empire had treated her and her kind so cruelly that self preservation had been ingrained in her mind at a very young age. She was just fortunate enough to have never been stuck in the cycle of brothels and inns that most elves found themselves in. Instead, ever since she could remember, Sinetah lived in the shadows, stealing and fighting just to survive in a world that hated her. Just as soon as her thoughts began to go to her days as a young girl, the sound of wheels rolling along the beaten path, and the hooves of horses hitting the rang rang into the elf's long ears. Red eyes turned to the side of the path facing away from Vendar, as her sight honed in on the carriage arriving from the North. It was fancy, every inch decorated in extravagant decal. On the side was what appeared to be the noble's family insignia, one she didn't recognize. Sinetah figured it was from far across the outer reaches of the Empire, not that it mattered. With only one armed guard, it was definitely something the elf believed she could handle. After just a few breaths, when the carriage passed her hiding spot, the thief pounced. Both hands flicked out her twin daggers without a sound, as one blade dug into the back left wheel, breaking, and with a dash, the other broke as well, stopping the carriage in its tracks. Sinetah barely managed to swing her head back as an arrow whooshed past and stuck into the back of the carriage. *Another guard? And an archer at that... how unusual.* She could hear the metallic grind of the front guard's plate armor as they drew closer, sword in hand. “A drow elf outside the brothel, that's not a common sight,” he exclaimed, hoping to catch her off guard with a biting insult. “And neither is an armed guard on the ground, but your archer friend will see that soon enough!” The left dagger left Sinetah's hand like lightning, aimed at a weak point in the man's armor, through the shoulder blade. It missed as the knight dodged it, and then advanced on her. She felt the corner of her lip smile as she moved back to avoid the swing of the guard's sword, and heard the clang of metal on metal as Sinetah's thrown dagger impacted into the man's back. It didn't break through, but the man did pause, confused, which was all Sinetah needed to leap into the air plant her foot into his face with all the force she could muster, knocking him back to the ground. Her blade whizzed through the air and returned to her hand, just in time to cut down another arrow from the trees. “I know you're over there. This man must have quite the money to afford an archer and a guardsmen.” There was movement in the trees, and a young man hopped out, a shortbow aimed toward her. He was young, likely not even 20 years old, which surprised Sinetah. Two arrows one after another cut through the air, toward her face. The elf rolled to the side, stopping before a third which planted itself in the dirt, right after where she abruptly stopped herself. “A young archer, fancy. Skilled, too. I don't see nobles typically employ someone so young, do you happen to have a special relationship with the man in the carriage?” To Sinetah's surprise, the young man began to chuckle, as did the downed knight behind her, who began to get to his feet, fighting against the heavy armor. It was the archer who spoke first. “I think you've made a grave mistake, thief. The man in that carriage is no noble. He is the heir to the Empire, the Prince!” Sinetah felt the blood drain from her face, eyes wide from terror, the first time she felt such a feeling in years. The insignia she didn't recognize was no noble crest, but in the back of her mind, it became familiar. The insignia on the Empire's flag. A lion with a mane of fire, to symbolize the might and power of an Empire that Sinetah had just pissed off with a single mistake.