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Diir'jih's cold breath inched its way out of his mouth. He turned to his left flank, where Zanjai looked at him with eyes only a brother could love. He gave a slight nod, and Diir'jih returned it with a swish of his hand to the right, around the wall. He motioned to a guard, large and burly, and took his hand and moved it across his neck. Zanjai nodded, and pulled his dagger from its sheath. Diir'jih did likewise, removing his poisoned mace from his belt loop. He gave Zanjai a black-toothed smile, and began to advance. Diir'jih moved down the left flank of the room, Zanjai the right. Diir'jih was granted cover by the pillars and the shadows they casted upon the somber room, and the marble didn't even make a sound under their padded boots. They wore leather as black as the starry night itself, and the only thing that would show is the glint of his blazing red eyes, filled to the brim with murderous intent. Zanjai stabbed the long, slithering dagger into the neck of the first guard, and his eyes widened as he fell to the floor. The other human, out of instinct, was surely afraid; That's how Diir'jih and his brother played the game. Diir'jih darted from the pillar and alarmed the scared human guard. "Katmandooooooo!!!!" Was the last thing the human heard before his face was smashed to a bloody pulp by the mace. Diir'jih took the alliance medal, a crest bearing a golden lion on a blue background, with a hand holding a sword. It was a knight-corporal. Zanjai took his share, and they stripped the gold from his body. His tabard, which bore a white raven flying across a black starry sky, flew in the wind as he and his brother advanced down the dark corridor. Diir'jih halted his brother with a hand signal; something He and Zanjai had clearly mastered, as they could send full messages with the flick and twist of their hands and wrist; and he placed an ear to the door. He could hear the faint voices of common language. Humans. But...He began to hear another, more complex language. It was, to his amazement, Darnassian. It was a feminine voice, but, then again, all Night elves were feminine. He snickered at the thought. He heard the voices speak in quizzical tones; They were catching on. He motioned to Zanjai to find a hiding place. Zanjai ran his fingers through his shaggy black Mohawk and rubbed his painted forehead; That normally meant he was thinking of something good. He motioned Diir'jih to the balcony, and he flung himself off. Diir'jih was in awe, and began to look down. There he saw his brother, slyly smirking, hanging off the railway. He heard the voices coming closer. The door creaked open, and came to a screeching halt. Diir'jih was no where in sight. The voices soon faded, and echoed down another large hall. He wrenched his body back up to the balcony, and crouched low, staying close to the wall. Diir'jih and Zanjai began to sneak up the hallway, and saw the courtyard. Plants were everywhere, and vines grew over the wooden fence that surrounded them. They seemed to be in a box of intertwined wood, and vines creeped up all around them. It was a beautiful sight, as bushes, wildflowers, and shrubs. He passed through without trouble, only to find a young, fair night elf woman standing right in front of them, wide-eyed and seemingly terrified. Trolls were monsters in these parts, supposedly they ate their own comrades and partners. Those rumors were not true, as they were totally irrational. Most trolls are as smart, if not, smarter, than the average human. Of course, Diir'jih may not have known how to spell, read, or write, but he sure knew how to kill with efficiency. He took out a blackjack, as he didn't really need to kill the girl, and as Zanjai held her down, he applied the bludgeon to her neck. She lay unconscious on the grass floor. A guards voice, seemingly startled, screamed at them. There were more than what Diir'jih expected...There were six heavily armed and armored guards standing before them, with the intent to stop their reign of assassination...

To be continued.

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