It was the middle of the day, the sun was shining down harshly, only to be filtered by the thick canopy above her. The jungle was a very hospitable place, rich in resources and room, you needed only to know where to find them and how to use them and you were set for life. But only if you were strong enough or fast enough to defeat or outrun those who would hunt you. Lucky for Diyah, very few things hunted her or her people, they were a harsh society, built only for war. Perfect ambush predators, and unmatched in their ferocity. But them being ambush predators, at least the females were, they were better suited to guerilla warfare and assassinations, which is what she was for.
Her people had an ancient enemy, The Apens, a tribe of violent humans who were built like gorillas. They had been at war since time immemorial. And now their enemy was trying to side with a growing kingdom, and secure their help in this war, this could not be allowed to pass, and so she was sent. Diyah, a young and gifted assassin, clad in barely anything and painted from head to toe with red dye.
She watched from her hiding place as the Naga leader and the Apens diplomat met. The diplomat bowed, and his head was cut from his shoulders by a swift, merciless blade of well kept steel, soaked and coated in fish bladder glue to protect from rusting, and it was still sharp. The assassin, the scantily clad woman by the name of Diyah, had succeeded before there wasn’t even a chance for failure, and the diplomat’s guards were quickly felled too, save one who fled to bring news back. She would have followed, if not for being clubbed harshly on the back of the head and collapsing. She had succeeded, but she wasn’t out of the woods yet.
Her people had an ancient enemy, The Apens, a tribe of violent humans who were built like gorillas. They had been at war since time immemorial. And now their enemy was trying to side with a growing kingdom, and secure their help in this war, this could not be allowed to pass, and so she was sent. Diyah, a young and gifted assassin, clad in barely anything and painted from head to toe with red dye.
She watched from her hiding place as the Naga leader and the Apens diplomat met. The diplomat bowed, and his head was cut from his shoulders by a swift, merciless blade of well kept steel, soaked and coated in fish bladder glue to protect from rusting, and it was still sharp. The assassin, the scantily clad woman by the name of Diyah, had succeeded before there wasn’t even a chance for failure, and the diplomat’s guards were quickly felled too, save one who fled to bring news back. She would have followed, if not for being clubbed harshly on the back of the head and collapsing. She had succeeded, but she wasn’t out of the woods yet.