The guard walking along the east border of the castle walls did not notice the figure trailing behind him. With the darkness of the night sky as cover, Ambrose closed in and pulling off one of his gloves, laid a hand over the mouth of the guard. He felt movement as the man tried to call for help, but the struggle lasted less than a second before the man went limp and fell to the ground with a thud. Ambrose gazed at the lifeless form, his sharp eyes taking in the black lines forked over the guard’s skin; a side effect of his touch. The assassin did not take joy in killing, but it was all he knew and the sight of his victim’s dead bodies no longer had an effect on him.<br/><br/>With his glove back in place, he hooked his hands under the arms of the guard and drug the body behind a bush close to the forest to keep it temporarily out of sight. Before he could be spotted, Ambrose stuck his knives into the thick stone and began to scale the wall. For a man of his size and stature, he was surprisingly agile, a skill that came in good use for his line of work. Normally such a task would be accompanied by the loud clink of his armor, but he had left it back at his manor for he needed to make as little noise as possible. Instead, he had donned dark riding clothes as well as cloak and a black mask to hide all of his features except the dark blue of his eyes.<br/><br/>Once Ambrose reached the top of the walls he scanned the towers for any more guards, but was pleased to find them empty. His informant had told him that King Byrne had sent a large group of his soldiers to attack an enemy fortress, and that the level of defense would be low. It made his job that much easier and would prevent him from taking any more lives than necessary. He had one job to do, kill the princess that the King of Brovaria had hired him to kill and leave the property. Taking the life of a woman was not something he did regularly, and he would have declined if it weren’t for the hefty price he had been offered. If it were a child, the price would not have mattered as he refused to take the life of someone so young, but he was assured that the maiden in question was a few years over marrying age. Still, the idea did not set well with him, and he was eager to get the job over with and push it from his mind. He did not need to be plagued by any more guilt.<br/><br/>Up ahead, inside the castle walls, he could make out what seemed to be the castle garden. There would likely be a entryway near there and he could begin his search for the princess. He had been given a brief description of her appearance, and only hoped that he would not kill the wrong female. With haste, he made his way down the other side of the wall and headed for the gardens. Once he had taken care of his target, he would escape to his horse that rested near the edge of the woods and head back to his manor which would take him a few weeks to reach by horseback. Ambrose was not looking forward to going back to his ‘home.’ Everytime he was there, the aching loneliness came rushing back with full force. Whereas normal men could invite friends and family to their estates, he had none to speak of. His family was dead, and he would not allow himself to have friends for fear of accidentally killing them. Even his servants kept their distance from him because they he would lash out at them if they got too close. Therefore, he spent most of his time taking jobs and collecting things. The people that knew him passed him off as an eccentric because they did not know the real reason for his behavior; that death followed him wherever he went.