Amaetha had been resting on a high branch within the Erineckian forest when it happened. She'd been eating a small foul, it appeared to be a falcon. She had roasted it over an open flaming, for a couple of hours earlier that day. Amaetha had been living outside of Carinthian for three years, long enough for any common fugitive to gain a sense of security, but Amaetha would never gain that same security.

She kept watch from her position. The Erineckian was silent, a blissful silence. Until the crunch of leaves struck her attention. She gazed down, a lone man dressed in a velvet dark cloak, a kingsmen. No common could afford velvet and the rich wouldn't dare come out to these parts. She watch the man dismount, and secure his sword. Her gun felt heavy from where it was holstered. She did a quick survey of her equipment: her sword, her gun, 3 rounds of ammo, and three throwing knives. The gun was a luxury, guns had been discontinued years ago, and now were so rare they worth a lesser noble's estate. Hers was a gift from her friend, Mantiun. Which is why she kept the gun clean and in good repair. Ammo was also expensive, which why she used the gun itself. But now, she was tempted. Tempted by the opportunity to slay a kingsmen.

He looked up at her. Then he pulled out a ridiculously long scroll, and glanced at it before stating:
"Amaetha, I have been sent by the-," he began, but couldn't finish.
"You're a kingsmen, it's obvious who sent you. Now, cut the formality, before I cut out you tongue," she interrupted. The man involuntary, rubbed a finger to his mouth.
"When I took this job, they'd never said you'd be so...mean," he responds.
"So assassins are suppose to be nice?" she respond mockingly.
"Lady's are suppose to have manners and class, yet here you are rude and dressed whatever filth that is," he respond.
"Excuse me, as it is there are least five different ways I can kill you at this distance. Even if you run, I'll out run you and at close range, multiple that number by ten, minimum. Also you want to insult my class, this Pleathian leather, worth more than twice your years salary. So, are going to tell what the king wants or am I going to kill you and take your horse, and that sweet velvet cape," she respond. The man stands there dumbstruck. A smile forms at her lips. The man breaks into a sprint towards his horse.

The man is dead before he can process it. A single bullet to the head. Amaetha takes his horse, the scroll, and his cape. Carthellian had been taken, and they were looking for an assassin to join a party to get behind enemy and take out the Carthellian royals. The rewards was heft, and the stakes high. It was her type of job. She mounted the horse and set for Zenith.