After dousing the fire, the two rogues left the safety of the cave. Both had honed their blades using their sharpening stones and poisons were applied to the blades' feeders. They checked each other's weaponry, secured scabbards, bracers and belts. Now they were ready for battle.

Today, Dar'Khan Drathir would die. And this time, he would stay dead.

A fog hung, ominous, somewhat reflective of the task which lay ahead. With luck, it would not be prophetic.

The assassins were expecting five Rangers to accompany them into Deatholme and aid them in reaching their ultimate destination - the Tower of the Damned and the Magister himself.

Past attempts at killing the traitorous Dar'Khan within his domain had failed. This was partly due to the lieutenants he now had under his command. According to intel provided by the Rangers, these loyal disciples possessed not only defensive expertise but were also imbued with dark magic, fortifying their unique abilities.

The plan this time around, therefore, was for the assassins to take the lead. The art of surprise in the first instance would come from the rogues' stealth attacks. Once they had the advantage, the Rangers would finish, bringing the lieutenants down. Hopefully, with Belore on their side, they would reach Dar'Khan before he was aware of the troop's presence.

Camnath and Teine made their way down through the hills to the outskirts of Deatholme where the Rangers would be waiting.

The fog was already lifting and as such the rogues spied their Ranger accomplices. Before they reached them, Camnath stopped and grabbed Tiene by the arm. "Are you sure you're going to be okay doing this?" he asked, his voice tight with concern.

Tiene looked into his eyes, wondering why he would even ask that question. "Dar'Khan is but a ghost waiting to happen, Camnath. I will be fine. I owe it to my family and Quel'thalas."

"Promise me you won't take risks, Tiene. If he proves too strong, you must retreat."

"There is always a risk, Camnath, you know that." She tried to soothe Camnath's angst.

"You know what I mean, Tiene!"

Her eyes flashed, indignation simmering just below the surface. She had recently killed one of the most notorious guild leaders in history, Sauren Nightflame, she was not to be considered inept.

As if responding to her thoughts, Camnath spoke again. "It is not that I doubt your dedication or indeed your skill. I only say it, because I care. I love you."

Tiene could not remain peeved at Camnath - he was worried about her. It had taken years for them to acknowledge and consummate their love, so it was natural for him to be concerned. She smiled up at him. "You're really cute when you go all protective, you know." She pinched his cheeks, playful, then turned to move away, but he pulled her back again.

"Cute and protective, my ass," he said before he planted a deep kiss on her lips. "I'm just making sure you warm my bed tonight." He smirked.

She pushed him back, amusement crinkling her eyes. "Presumptuous, are we not?"

He grinned wider. "I can tell when a woman wants me, Tiene," he said, casually surveying the area. "And you want me." His eyes sparkled, teasing.

She smiled as she started moving forward again, toward the waiting troop. "I may prove too much for you, Camnath Sunspear."

He fell in step beside her and cocked an eyebrow. "We'll see who has the better stamina. Later."

They grinned at each other one more time before they met up with the Rangers.

The Rangers' Lieutenant greeted the rogues. Although Tiene did not know the lieutenant well, she nonetheless recognised him as having been one of the soldiers within Duthan's company. He nodded, respectful, and advised them on the plan of attack according to the Ranger Lord's orders received earlier.

Camnath looked askance at Tiene. It was obvious she had some input with the plan - it covered all things the rogue's had discussed which she had then noted in her communique with Lor'themar.

With everyone in agreement, Camnath turned to lead the way but Tiene snuck out in front. Camnath sighed - he should have known she would do that.

Both rogues moved into stealth, blending with their surroundings. While the Rangers could not see them, they had their form of concealment, also a way of camouflage, which worked on the same principle as the rogue's technique, but not as reliable - the air around them would distort, warp, giving away their location to the eagle-eyed.

Camnath and Tiene could locate each other easily enough so the Rangers waited until they saw their cue - corpses of milling scourge starting to litter their path.

The two assassins made their way towards a gazebo left of the main gate. Here the first of the Magister's lieutenants, Mirdoran the Fallen, kept watch.

The one time warrior, although now mere bones, was nonetheless a formidable foe who excelled at rending his attackers' armour to the point it afforded the wearer minimal protection. He would pummel them mercilessly with his shield before dealing a fatal blow.

With no flesh on this foe, he was going to be tricky even for the skilled assassins to disable. Camnath had a plan though. He'd made a long, barbed rope from briarthorn and vines in the woods. They would use this to bind the skeleton's limbs and bring him down, preventing him from giving them a pasting with his shield.

The warped air denoted the presence of the Rangers around the gazebo, waiting for the rogues' to act.

Camnath and Tiene needed to execute this with precision - they didn't want to end up with their butts full of the Rangers' arrows.

Camnath snuck around the edge of the gazebo and with his fingers brushing her palm, he handed Tiene one end of the rope. He wore a sultry smile. She grinned. 

Music: Venice Escape composed by Jesper Kyd from Assassin's Creed II

https://youtu.be/X2QjMpTdkQE

Mirdoran turned away, his back facing the rogues. That was their cue.

Crouching on either side of the lieutenant, they broke into a run, bringing the vine along the back of the lieutenant's legs. As they crossed paths in front of the surprised warrior, Tiene leapt in the air pulling the rope taut around his chest and arms.

At the same time, Camnath rolled across the ground, binding the skeleton's legs. The rogues reran the circuit, wrapping more of the rope around the Mirodan, ensuring he was tied tight.

He fell in a clash of armour and rattling of bones on the stone floor. The two rogues thrust the bladed ends into cracks on the floor, pinning the skeleton in place before somersaulting their way clear.

Camnath whispered in the Ranger Lieutenant's ear. "All yours."

Three of the rangers attacked Mirdoran - swords, hacking the joints of the creature, dismembering it piece by piece, steel clashing against bone. The other two Rangers stood at the ready with their bows should the disturbance attract any other scourge.

With lieutenant number one dispatched, Camnath grabbed Tiene's chin and brought his mouth down hard on hers. She kissed him back equally feverish.

"That's one down towards tonight's promise," Camnath whispered in her ear. Without waiting for a response, he moved away toward their next target.

Tiene watched him, ponytail swishing as he strode purposefully. She trembled with the anticipation of another night's passion.

The next destination - a slaughterhouse to the east. Their target here was the complete opposite of the bony warrior. An abomination, known as Borgoth the Bloodletter, had more blood, guts and flesh than any single creature needed. He was held together by crude stitching and metal pins, but he was a mean son-of-a-corehound too. He wielded axes, hatchets and chains to grapple his next kill and all with unnerving precision.

"From one extreme to the other," Tiene commented.

"Yes, but at least we have plenty fleshy points to attack on this one, " Camnath said.

They waited for the Rangers. Borgoth had holed himself up in one of the cells within the slaughterhouse. The archers would try to pull the creature into the centre of the structure, hopefully avoiding his grappling hook in the process. Camnath and Tiene would then go in and attack the beast from behind.

The first volley of arrows startled the lumbering creature, and with a roar and a grunt, it heaved its repulsive mass out of the chamber. Chains rattled and clinked across the floor, as Borgoth stomped toward the hub of the room. There, the remains of his last victim still clung to the stone plinth which served as a butcher's slab.

Once he was clear of the smaller chamber, Tiene ran and propelled herself up, using the stone jambs of the doorway. When she was high enough, she kicked forward onto the abomination's shoulders. She was about to drive her blades into the brainstem, but she didn't see Borgoth's extra arm rising to grab her.

Camnath shouted a warning to her, but too late.

The butcher grabbed Tiene in his deformed fingers and launched her across the central chamber. Her back impacted against the wall, and she slid to the floor. Her face scrunched in pain as the rough stone scraped her arms and shoulders.

Landing with a brutal thud, her lack of foresight engaged her fury, and in a split second, she was back up, stealthed, ready to repeat the manoeuvre. This time, however, she would look out for the offending limb.

From the perimeter, the Rangers' barrage continued, aimed at the legs of the creature so not to accidentally hit their rogue comrades. Most of the missiles bounced off the creature's thickened skin with muted thwacks, doing little to no damage at all.

Two Rangers, opting to fight with their swords, were compelled to join the assault inside the chamber. The hulking beast, all putrid flesh, swung his axe and cleaver relentlessly, narrowly missing the swordsmen.

Camnath, taking the lead, followed Tiene's example bounding up the door jambs. As he launched himself in a twist, he thrust his daggers between Borgoth's shoulder blades. The butcher roared. Twisting the knives, Camnath let his weight pull him down. The steel sliced open the repellent flesh with a sound like wet, thick canvas being rent.

Borgoth's extra limb flailed as he tried to grab his attacker, but Camnath's blades were still slicing him open. The abomination's guts spilt over the rogue's head and hands then landed with a sickening squelch as slop on the floor. The creature turned around, its strength failing from the massive loss of blood. Camnath dodged the still-thrashing arms and ran toward Tiene, signalling for her to move.

Realising she didn't need to carry out her planned strike, Tiene shouted to the Rangers to start firing at the gaping wounds. Arrows screamed through the air, finally anchoring within the rancid flesh.

As the defeated hulk started to fall forward, the rogues ran out of the slaughterhouse. Briskly, Camnath turned Tiene around, checking her injuries. Thankfully, they just looked worse than they were, but the scrapes would still need adequately cleaned and covered.

He leaned down to her and whispered, "I guess you're on top, then."

Tiene spun around, momentarily stunned. Camnath was incorrigible, but his playful remark made her smile. She pointed to his head. "Not one of your better ensembles. You better have a good long bath before any action tonight," she said grinning.

A pile of decaying guts fell from his hair, some sliding down his cheek. He leaned toward her. "You can scrub my back then, woman." He smacked her butt playfully.

The Ranger lieutenant, on hearing the slap, raised a quizzical eyebrow but said nothing.

The two rogues suppressed their laughter and turned left for target number three.

The next one, located in the crypt, was Jurion the Deceiver; a shade. Created by dark magic, the creature was translucent, insubstantial. By their very nature, shades were amongst the most loyal of scourge followers and known for their unmatched ability to scout and report events or disturbances to whoever they had sworn allegiance.

"I'm at a loss with how to best this one," Camnath confessed. "Not that it will stop me trying."

"I know what to do," Tiene said.

"And how do you know this?"

Tiene smiled. "Years of reading. The Crimson Blades library has books on all manner of subjects, including how to defeat shades and similar entities."

"So what do we do?"

"We have to goad it, distract it."

"What?" Camnath almost laughed out loud. "How? And then what?"

"Even entities have egos, Camnath. Magic is what keeps them in their shadow form, and it is the only way they can maintain a telepathic link with their master. We need to ensure it doesn't let Dar'Khan know we are here. If we infuriate it enough, it will become reckless, and the magic will falter. When that happens, it will take on a physical form."

"So that's when we can kill it?"

Tiene nodded. "We need the Rangers to help here. The distortion around them will confuse it."

"Won't it report to Dar'Khan something is amiss though? Make him suspicious?"

Tiene grinned. "It won't risk infuriating its master with insubstantial evidence of a threat. No, it will try to work out what the cause of the warping is and in so doing, grow increasingly frustrated."

Camnath took it upon himself to tell the Rangers what they needed to do, expecting some reluctance, but they were more than up for the task.

As it turned out, Tiene's plan worked well, and the seemingly undefeatable 'ghost' was swiftly and relatively easy to defeat once it's physical form materialised.

The last of Dar'Khan's lieutenants was a skeletal mage known as Masophet the Black. He was in another slaughterhouse to the south of the citadel. Reputedly powerful, he was, nonetheless, surprisingly predictable and with the combined efforts of rogues and Rangers, his end was quick.

The final battle was ahead of them now. Once more stealthed, the troop made their way to the Tower of the Damned.

A few feet from the steps, Tiene halted. Her heart was hammering a little too hard, she thought. Inside the tower was the man who had all but wiped out Quel'thalas. His greed for power had resulted in the death of her family, and hundreds of other innocent lives. Death of the deceiver was imperative.

"Tiene?" Camnath sensed her hesitancy. When she didn't answer, he spoke again. "I know he played quite a key role in your life ..."

Her eyes focused on Camnath, and they were full of anger. "Do not worry Camnath. The only feelings I have for Dar'Khan are hate and rage. I also remember something, though; his weakness."

Camnath took a deep breath. "And what was that exactly?"

A moment passed. Then another. "His ego," Tiene said finally.

Camnath stared at Tiene. He had never seen her eyes so hard, so focused.

"Okay, let's move." She started forward, Camnath and the Rangers following behind.

The rogues entered the tower, making straight for Dar'Khan. The Rangers methodically made their way through the maze of corridors, dispatching all other disciples in the process.

Camnath and Tiene neared the hub of the tower, undoubtedly where the Magister held court. The proud tone of Dar'Khan's voice confirmed their speculation. The two rogues flattened themselves against the wall as one of Dar'Khan's minions hurried out of the chamber and scurried along the halls.

After a moment, they peered around the wall. Off to the right was the man himself. Not as buoyant as they both remembered him from years ago. 

Sounds of fighting drifted near. The Rangers were progressing through the citadel at a good pace. But, it alerted the Magister of encroaching trouble.

Two skeletal mages materialised from the shadows. Dar'Khan practically floated to the centre of the room, beckoning his disciples. "Go see to that fracas, " he ordered, pointing to the door. "No doubt some pathetic would-be heroes have come to try their hand at killing me ... again." A bitter laugh echoed around the chamber. The servants did as they were told, leaving the room empty, apart from the man himself.

Tiene signalled for Camnath to enter the room and circle around to the back of the Magister. He nodded and moved in.

So far, so good, everything was going according to plan. Tiene looked across to where Camnath crouched, his concealment, standard rogue camouflage. They agreed he would not make a move until she signalled him to do so.

Tiene's eyes drifted back to Dar'Khan. She was stunned to find she felt a pang of sympathy for him. The individual who now stood inside this room was a pathetic echo of the once vibrant, exuberant, flamboyant man she had known years ago.

His recent resurrections had not maintained his excellent grooming. Now he was more Lich than debonair elf, his face gaunt with sunken cheeks, and a deathly pallor framed by long, white, lank hair. He had become a hollow, haunted creature; the only spark remaining was the glint of madness which resided in his black eyes.

The clash of steel and thwack of arrows brought her out of rumination. The troop were nearing rapidly. It appeared Dar'Khan's minions were not faring well. Tiene looked back at Camnath. He was waiting for her to make her move, a look of mild bafflement in his eyes.

The tip of one of Tiene's daggers kissed the wall; its resulting 'ting' quickly picked up by the Magister. Tiene remained still, watching as the Magister's head tilted to one side, listening.

"I know someone is there," Dar'Khan's velvety voice spoke. "And I sense I know you."

Tiene knew Camnath would be furious with her for deviating from the agreed tactics, but she prayed he would not react with untimely celerity. She dropped her concealment.

As suspected, she saw Camnath wasn't best pleased and was forcing himself to remain still. She had taken the risk, hoping he would trust her enough to play along without jeopardising her plan; to ensure Dar'Khan's attention was focused entirely on her.

The Magister's eyes widened as he saw the young woman in front of him, her skin scraped, a little bloody and holding two daggers loosely at her sides. "Tiene?"

She stepped forward, staring at the thing he had become.

Dar'Khan slid over to where she stood and circled a couple of times, before halting in front of her. "My! Haven't you blossomed?" He caressed strands of her hair, letting them run between his long thin fingers. A shudder ran down her spine. "I see I still affect you, then," he said, a sly smile on his lips. Dry mouth or not, it still held her gaze.

She looked to the side, quick. Camnath was bristling at the audacity of the traitorous Magister.

"Indeed you do, Dar'Khan," Tiene replied, fighting the tremor threatening to break her resolve. She gazed up at the Magister, and a small smile stretched her mouth. "I admit, I was curious to see what it would be like standing next to a man who is as powerful as the Titans. A necromancer now, too, I believe."

"Really?" he scoffed. "A visit is it?" Dar'Khan grinned. "Yet you bring those who seek to end me," he gestured toward the outer hall where muffled sounds of fighting continued.

Tiene shook her head. "Not I, Dar'Khan. I merely followed them and waited for an opportunity to sneak in here. I also have a particular debt to pay, if you can remember that far back."

He circled her again, his hand hovering but not quite touching her as he moved. "Ahh! A kiss, wasn't it? But, I thought that was invalidated."

"Was it?" She turned on the soft smile of a more innocent Tiene from years gone ago.

The Magister's brow furrowed. "I distinctly remember you managing to persuade your father by yourself to become -" He waved a dismissive hand over her. " - what you have become."

"I did, yes. But you were relentless for some time after and, I quote, "I will collect that kiss Tiene, make no mistake." She sighed dramatically. "But, you never did."

Dar'Khan paused, momentarily surprised. Then he moved close, his body almost touching hers. "Why are you really here, Tiene?"

"Because I understand now. Power is everything, and I have witnessed the true meaning of it through your deeds. Where else can I go now, but to the man who mesmerised me when I was a young girl? You may make use of me as you see fit."

Tiene didn't dare look towards Camnath - she knew he would be seething, and itching to attack. The fact he hadn't told her he was giving her time to do what she felt was the best way of dealing with the traitor.

Dar'Khan's mouth was no more than a cruel, severe slit and he cupped her chin, roughly, in his cold hand. "Do you take me for a fool, Tiene? Did you think I would be unable to see behind your façade? Unlike Sauren, it would take much more than cherry lips and -" his eyes roamed, " -a tempting body to thwart me."

Reference to her late Guild Master made her stiffen. Dar'Khan noted the change in her posture. He grinned. "Miss him, do you?"

Camnath flinched, the soles of his boots scraping the stone floor in a whisper. But, the Magister heard it. He was turning toward the sound when two Rangers suddenly appeared at the door, arrows nocked and ready.

Dar'Khan's lips turned to a sneer. His free hand cast a cloud of shadow at the Rangers, forcing them back, their advantage lost. But another slid in under the dark brume brandishing his sword to the Magister's left. Dar'Khan turned, hate in his eyes with another charge of shadow forming in his hand, intent on destroying the attackers.

His cast was interrupted as cold steel was drawn across his throat and round the back of his neck. The blood started as a mere trickle before becoming fast-flowing rivulets spreading down his robe. He faced Tiene, eyes wide in disbelief. The sphere of dark magic in his hand snuffed out.

Tiene's voice boomed inside the chamber as she addressed the vainglorious Magister. "Arrogant as ever, aren't you Dar'Khan?"

He released her and clasped his hand to his throat, stumbling back.

Tiene circled him, just as he'd done with her before. "You did not heed my warning from the first time I drew a blade on you all those years ago. Even now, you still see me as a silly little girl, infatuated, and wanting her own way. But, I did warn you, did I not?" All her rage and sorrow was now combined, increasing her ferocity.

Tiene was not for letting this be quick; she wanted him to suffer, to know without a doubt this was his demise, no escape this time.

She stepped toward him, and as she did so, she caught Camnath's stunned expression, but she carried on. "The 'kiss' I referred to, Dar'Khan... " she waved her bloodied dagger in front of his face, " ... was the kiss of death. This time you will stay dead!"

The Magister clutched at his throat, a futile attempt to stem the bleeding.

"This is for Quel'thalas!" Tiene shouted. She grabbed the front of his robe, drenched as it was and sliced him deep again. The blade also bit into his fingers and three digits fell to the floor.

The Magister tried to speak, but only guttural mumblings fell from his quivering lips. He stumbled again.

The blade found its target once more. "This is for all those innocents who you betrayed!" Tiene's voice bore more poison than her blades ever could.

A final slice nearly decapitated him, the ching of steel reverberating as it hit bone. "And this is for my family!"

She let go of his robe. He dropped, unceremoniously to his knees. Tiene leaned down and wiped her blade on his ruined robe, then pushed him, sending him sprawling on the floor in a pool of blood.

He squirmed, gurgling, still pointlessly clasping his gaping throat with half a hand. His other one reached out, the long emaciated fingers trying to grab Tiene's leg but the rogue inched back and watched until his body stilled.

Silence befell the room. The Rangers stood, their arrows still nocked but no target to hit anymore.

Stepping over the corpse Tiene spat on it, then instructed the Rangers to take his head, before she hurriedly left the room.

Her desperate need to exit the citadel was firing adrenalin through her body, pushing her on, harder, faster. When she ran into the open air, she folded and crouched on the top step of the tower. 

Wracked with sobs, she dug her hand into the pouch on her belt. In her hand, she held a braid carefully bound - it was her father's and brothers' locks of hair. "I did it, father. I killed him. You can all rest easy now."

Camnath approached slowly and knelt beside her. He touched her shoulder, gentle, compassionate and Tiene threw herself into his arms. He pulled her close, hushing and rocking her gently as she sobbed against his neck.

"I am done," she said, clinging to him. "My vengeance is complete."

Camnath stroked her hair.

Tiene pulled away and looked at him. "I'm sorry I took matters into my own hands in there, Camnath."

He nodded a silent understanding.

"I think all my training and hard work over the years has been for this sole purpose. It has been my destiny, perhaps. But now - now I feel redundant, drained. I don't know what to do anymore, Camnath. My vengeance is sated, and I feel as if part of me is gone - forever."

Cupping her face, Camnath looked at her, his eyes warm, full of love, hope. "We will embark on a new life, Tiene," he said. "We are Children of The Blood now, and yes, the future is uncertain, but it is ours to mould as we see fit. We will grow, we will build. And we will love."

Tiene's eyes, still wet with tears of yesterdays long gone, gradually focused on the ebony-haired elf who held her tenderly. She knew he was right, and would be there for her, holding her hand, making that new life with her. She loved him so completely.

"Yes, Camnath," she agreed. "But, no-one will harm our people ever again. We will protect them. Tal anu'men no Sin'dorei."*

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* Tal anu'men no Sin'dorei – Death to all who oppose the Sin'dorei

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