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Hal'idal woke in his makeshift tent to the sounds of another moonlit night in the dense Western Forests. 30 years had passed since his experience with the faeries and his betrayal of his fellow moon elves. He spent the last 20 training for his newfound trade as an assassin. The leaves rustled softly snapping Hal'idal's attention back to the present. He drew his twin daggers that he received from his former master back in Shadowwood. From his elf senses he knew what was approaching him was too loud to be elfin or animal in origins, even half elves were quieter than this. Slipping completely into his low-light vision and merging with the shadows, Hal'idal waited to spring on his prey. The prey he was stalking was a thief who stole from the wrong man. The thief stole a ring that allowed the user to cast lightning spells, a ring like this was worth more than what Hal'idal was getting paid. That didn't hurt the elf's pride too much, after 10 years he was already a high paid assassin; charging 70 pounds a hit. What caught Hal'idal's attention was the thief's cloak. Several times had this enchanted cloak hid the thief from Hal'idal, but this time Hal'idal was ready. When the thief stepped out from the brush, Hal'idal slip in behind him and slit his throat. Blood poured freely from the gaping wound, and the thief only wheezed when air escaped from the slit as the thief died. Grabbing the cloak, ring, and whatever money the thief had on his person Hal'idal retreated quickly into the dense brush of the forest.

"What do you mean you're not gonna pay up?" Hal'idal asked in controlled tones. "Simple, you did your job now you die", his most recent employer said in reply. "Really now? One problem with that plan, your guards outside are already dead, and I still have this ring. I just have to wonder how do you get the damn thing to work", Hal'idal said with a smile creeping across his face. His sapphire eyes stared coldly at his fat employer. "What do you want?" the fat man replied. "My money, plus interest, my rate for you just went up 4 fold. A man of your stature can afford that", Hal'idal replied. "280 pounds! That will break me..." Hal'idal cut him off with a sharp look before saying, "Should have thought of that before you pulled this little stunt". With that Hal'idal walked up to the fat man and took the keys to the treasury. "Don't get up, I will get it myself. It might take me a few trips", Hal'idal said calmly. With those last words Hal'idal drove his left dagger into the man's chest, and with a final shudder he was dead. Hal'idal walked off calmly to the treasury vaults.

Hal'idal sat deep in concentration at the three soldiers trying to flank him. One soldier was already down from the feeble minded spell on the right blade. He had already tried running, but he managed to back himself into a corner on a dead end alley. The one in the middle was shaking from fear, but Hal'idal wouldn't attack because of the other 2. He began a complex spinning motion, thrusting here and there, to keep the soldier's claymores at range. They had him beat in strength and range; so Hal'idal used tactics where his amazing speed and agility would benefit him. When the right soldier dropped his guard Hal'idal flashed out and tore the man's throat out with the backside of his dagger. Hal'idal didn't stop moving long enough to allow the last 2 to counter-attack. With the opening offered Hal'idal took off in a sprint for the exit, praying to manage to lose himself in the crowds. When he made it out of the alley, several soldiers were already awaiting him with crossbows leveled at Hal'idal's chest. With a sigh, Hal'idal dropped his daggers. "Arrest the murderer", the captain of the soldiers began. When 4 began to approach him. Hal'idal hooked his toe under a dagger and hamstrung the first and took his longsword and began a complex dance that was a mixture in blocking bolts fired from crossbows and disarming the remaining soldiers. When it seemed the the soldiers wanted no more; especially so since their captain was killed by a deflected bolt. Hal'idal grabbed his other dagger and ran down the street, using his newly gained enchanted cloak to hide amongst the structures.

Hal'idal sat back as he counted the money he earned from his last job, with a little interest, he made enough to get into a real guild now. Many assassins didn't sign on with guilds, but those that were great and lasted in the game were with some kind of guild. Guilds were built for the assassins to hide away at, find jobs, and buy items that were rarely sold on the outside, and if anyone betrayed the guild, they usually died in short order. With the 300 pounds he needed Hal'idal could pay a membership, sign on fees, and get himself a small apartment within the guild's walls. With a great sigh, Hal'idal stood up and gazed out of the apartment he was staying at only window. The sun was beginning to set, and Hal'idal looked beyond the outside walls towards the falling sun. "Time to go", he said to himself.

The guild was disguised as a church and the real guild extended several stories beneath the surface. Hal'idal was already irritated by the effort he had to put forth just to locate it and gain entrance. Several people had to be paid off to send messages through the Turquonal Guild of Assassins network. A week later and Hal'idal was finally approaching the hideout. Within he was patted down and magically searched for spells and/or hidden items or weapons. He walked down many flights of stairs and when he emerged from the stairwell he was greeted by a short, skinny, and balding man with glasses. Hal'idal had to refrain from laughing at the man, but the man's medallion said that would be the last thing Hal'idal would laugh at. "So you want to join the guild, huh?" the short man began in arrogant tones, "Well, it just so happens you meet our qualifications Hal'idal Darksbane. Oh, but where are my manners? Forgive me, I am Smonder Fligress, the second of the guild. Before you can join there must be a test of your skills". "What kind of test, a test to see how long I can keep from laughing at you? You think that because you are so high up you can address me from such a long nosed position. Kiss my elvish a**, short s**t", Hal'idal replied out of disgust for Smonder. Smonder's face turned red as fury spread accross it and lunged desperately out at Hal'idal. Hal'idal grabbed the short man and snapped his neck, killing him instantly. "Boring, I think I want his position if your leader will be kind enough to oblige me", Hal'idal replied very seriously. When one guard went to attack the moon elf he was stopped by a man in a black cloak. "You can have his position as soon as you complete a little task the man you just killed was supposed to complete. May I interest you in a glass of elvish wine while we discuss your future within the guild?" the cloak figure said calmly. "But of course", Hal'idal replied.

Hal'idal was cringing as he had to put on his costume for the play. "Why do I have to do this again?" Hal'idal asked. "Because, One you killed our lead character, and two, you look good as a princess, and three, it's for charity so the government will look the other way", Klider replied with a smile. Hal'idal had to fill the role of the Princess of Nubrak because he killed the other actor. Well the bright side was he would be number two in command of the guild after this. "Here, put this mask on...", Klider started. "Hell no, that thing is hideous!" Hal'idal exclaimed. "Come on, it's for a good cause, our cause. Tell you what, you put this mask on and I'll give you 15 pounds", Klider replied still trying to put the warted mask on Hal'idal. Now Klider was speaking Hal'idal's language. With a final grunt Hal'idal subjected himself to the whims of the guild's leader. Hal'idal made a mental note of this night. He was not happy to be on the butt end of a joke, but he had to remind himself of the 15 pounds and being number two. Well let's go break a leg, Hal'idal thought to himself as he walked onto the stage.

Hal'idal's face was filled with shame after the play. He simply wanted to die, though he doubted he could join the spirits of his ancestors now. For not the first time, he regretted his actions with the faeries. Now all he could do was bury his face in his hands and cry out of shame. Shame for the monster he had become; for the betrayal he had committed. He dearly missed dancing beneath the trees and moonlight. He missed laughing with his fellow elves. He even missed constantly warring with the dark elves. Now his only comfort was killing. For no reason other than money. Hal'idal will continue on his path for quite some time now. He will continue to cry. Until one day, when his destiny would define who he was. When a god tries to start a second Dragon Clan War. Hal'idal will have to choose between stopping him or being falsely charged with the murder of a young woman.