Marcoya, the cutthroat of Pelgea
I looked to both sides of me, and gave curt nods to both female assains. I shuddered as Bacio gave me one of her evil looking smiles that she gave to a target before sliting it’s throat. I kicked in a wooden barn door that blocked our path, and was met by a fat man counting a few gold pieces from behind a wooden desk.
“Markie! What HAVE you done to yourself!?” Bacio scolded, itallian accent rolling off her tounge like a river; fluid and consistent.
The fat man turned around, and flashed a smirk.
I met it with a groan, and a shudder.