Conlor Foxwood - Contract Killer Extraordinaire - or not..?

[Foxwood]

Conlor Foxwood - Contract Killer Extraordinaire - or perhaps not..? - Part I

"Britain!" Conlor exhaled. His journey had been exhausting and long. The southern man took a good look about before approaching the 1st bank. People all around seemed somewhat dull, as though bored with their lives, but Conlor just smiled. Excitement and adventure were what he had come to this city for in the first place, perhaps he could offer a partition of his own joys and sorrows with the others as well? Make the place a tad more lively... Give the law enforcement something to chase after. After a few attempts at talking to people gone wrong, he heaved a sigh, and decided not to try again. People simply were not interested in casual talk. That was alright with Conlor Foxwood. Who needed talk? Peoples' purses of gold were so heavy, the idea of having it all for himself made Conlor drool like a half-wit.

But had Conlor come to the right place? He did not know yet. The start had not been as pleasant as he had hoped. He continued walking. City guards only gave the man a dull stare, as he determinedly made his way north, where the Britain smithy was located. Conlor entered, made the necessary deals and exited. His coinpurse was much lighter, and screamed to be full again. He would have to find a way to make more gold, he thought.

He set his course north once more, where the forests were dark and filled with gloom and danger. Now that was a place suitable for Conlor Foxwood. Playing with the knife hanging from his belt, he once more granted himself a small smile, and his hazel eyes scanned the woods for others... No one was around to be seen. He traveled north toward the great mountains, when suddenly...

A woman. he locked his gaze on an approaching traveler.

A woman in pink armor trotted on her horse, and as she had almost got past Conlor, he exclaimed:

"Woman! D'ye need someone dead? Here's yer man an' every tool you'll ever need!" and offered the lady his dumbest grin. He rested his hands on his belt, emphasizing the knife hanging from it, as though was the most dangerous weapon, and the largest tool she had ever come to witness, and did a small circling movement with his pelvis. The woman's expression was that of a lost puppy. Her big eyes just stared at Conlor Foxwood, who stood there like an idiot, with a grin across his face. She gently tugged her reins and rode away without a word, and left behind her an atmosphere of great unease for Conlor to wonder at...

"Per'aps someone else, then..." the words escaped his lips, and he just kept on traveling with a helpless shrug.


Conlor Foxwood, the great failure of an assassin, had arrived...