End of Night Eight
The Sheaim assassin had one final job to do. If he could kill just one more person, his partner and himself would be able to kill the remaining Champions, seize the Hoard, and bring eternal glory to the Sheaim nation. All he had to do was kill successfully one more night.
His target for this night was
Mergle.
Mergle was quiet compared to most other Champions, but he was still, by far, the most vocal Champion living. After he was out of the picture, manipulating LordNwahs6 and BigTin would be all too easy.
And so, the man once again made a blood sacrifice to his God and left his tent. He didn't worry about being quiet this time; soon, the Sheaim would be in the majority, and they wouldn't have to hide. He approached
Mergle's tent eagerly. His knife rested in his hand as he cut open the door to the tent.
Mergle was sleeping, but woke up at the sound of an intruder outside. "
Verarde," he began, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "What brings you here at such a late hour? Do you have news on the Sheaim assassins?"
It was at this point that
Mergle noticed the knife in
Verarde's hand. "You!" he shouted. "You're the Sheaim! You're the one who's been killing us all!"
Verarde became rather nervous. Instead of killing the man instantly, as he was so used to doing, he began to cut off the man's fingers, one by one.
Mergle let out bloodcurdling screams, and began to feel very lightheaded. He passed out from the pain shortly afterwards.
Once the man had passed out,
Verarde didn't see the fun in torturing him anymore. So, the Sheaim jammed his knife through the side of
Mergle's head, killing him instantly.
Only three men woke up that morning:
Verarde,
Zack, and
BigTin. BigTin performed a quick investigation as was custom and found that
Mergle had been murdered and
LordNwahs6 was nothing but ash anymore. Upon seeing this,
BigTin became very nervous.
Begin Day Nine!
"So," BigTin began, "we shall be in Grigori territory in 8 hours. Who shall be the one to carry the Dragon's Hoard to its eternal resting place?"
"
I think I should do it," Zack suggested. "And, while I'm at it, I'll accuse you of treason,
BigTin. I heard you murdering Mergle last night. Verarde and I met up and saw you in his tent."
Verarde nodded. "
Zack shall take the Dragon's Hoard, and you shall die,
BigTin."
"I'm not the assassin!" BigTin exclaimed, sweat running down his face. "Verarde, listen to me,
Zack is the killer! He's just trying to manipulate you!"
BigTin drew his sword and charged after Zack. "You snake! Only a Sheaim would be so vile as to sneak onto a Grigori expedition! You don't deserve to live!"
Zack put on a devious grin and drew his sword. "Verarde, would you like to do the honors?"
Verarde smiled broadly, and advanced on BigTin. "Good bye, Champion." BigTin was no match for Verarde. The two dueled for only a moment before Verarde was able to stab the man through the heart.
BigTin could let out no words. His expression was one of shock, his eyes and his mouth wide open. He collapsed on the ground in a pool of his own blood, dead.
"What's next, Zack?" Verarde asked.
"We take this treasure back to Sheaim lands and become the most famous men in history, of course."
The Grigori could never recover after that moment. Their most elite fighters had all perished at the hands of three Sheaim spies. Their civilization fell quickly to a revolution created by the Sheaim. Using their endless gold reserves, Zack and Verarde created an aristocracy in the Grigori city-states. Only men of Sheaim descent could hold any land, have a job, or have freedom. This began the oppresive government that persists to this very day.
Game over!
Congratulations to the Sheaim team of bonefang, Zack, and Verarde!