[The following roleplay is rated mature for reasons that may include but are not limited to strong language, sexual (inexplicit) themes, violence, and mild drug and alcohol use. Reader discretion is advised.]
In all her days hunting men, Anne always hated the famous ones the most. Everyone always wanted them dead; she'd received bounties for priests, dukes, and even a king once, and she always turned them down. There were too many eyes turned towards popular men's every move, and the wizened assassin had no intentions of gambling her life so carelessly.
Until this time. She stood from afar watching the home of Rolf and Ophelia Warde. The two-story home sat on a road on the border of this town, a place called Onryx. Neighbors bumbled about, their homes too near, another inconvenience, close enough to hear any screams.
The Wardes were a married couple with an infant son. They lived alone in their sizable house, paid for with the husband's checks from the king himself. He'd been an armsman in a recent war, though now he diligently stood watch over this town. With how little was going on in town, he was probably doing a decent job of keeping the baddies out. Anne had to wonder why anyone would want this man dead.
It wasn't her business to question her clients. Anne had accepted this deal out of desperation. The assassin was good, she'd taken many bounties before, but she was not perfect. Her last gig had landed her in a cell with her head inches from a silver platter. She'd escaped, but barely, and now she had a bounty on her own head. She had to lay low, but even that couldn't last long. She needed money, desperately, and plucking off the petty thieves she usually killed wasn't going to cut it this time. She needed someone big, someone who would be missed: she needed Rolf Warde.
The man was sitting at home now, no doubt enjoying a supper his wife had made. Anne herself could feel her stomach growling under the folds of her dark blue tunic. She pulled a coinpurse from the pocket of her dark trousers and counted the coins inside. A light dinner tonight, perhaps, but it would probably be the last for days. She had to act on this bounty soon, or it would be her dying over this.