He had spent some time away. Changing his ways. Getting back to basics.
He visited the place he trained at first and felt at home. He felt so much stronger for removing the shackles he had placed himself in. Working for himself and himself alone"
He trained in the physical arts about as much as he trained in the mental ones. His body even reflected his training. He perfected his ability to sneak up and kill someone. He could possible rival those of the Brother Hood of Assassins. He viewed them as his idols but weren't all to eager to follow their ways. He believed down everything needed to get your target was needed to be done. Even if it meant spilling more blood then needed.
He had trained on assassination for the longest time. Using Deer for his targets because a deer will run if it feels it is in danger. He leaped out and had its throat cut before its head even turned. He was refining himself. Making him the perfect machine to use.
He retained his original goals. Fight for the weak. Destroy those that harm others for fun or spite. Never hurt those that don't deserve it. Judge by a mans actions not by his character.
He knew all of these he would work hard to stick to. To rid himself of the taint he placed upon himself in the past. He wouldn't allow himself to enter in such a state ever again?
"Two months after leaving"
"His hands"Bloodied from the ferocity of the training. His body sore and his breath small as if he breathed not. He would rest a full night's sleep and eat well. Eating full meals and working as ferociously as the day before. He washed twice a day. One couldn't smell even if alone. It would give away your position.
He gave himself the antidote to the poison which was his stupidity. He armed himself with more knowledge then he had before. He knew better then to take a job lightly and to over estimate or to under estimate your opponent. He was ready now to return?
He trained in the physical arts about as much as he trained in the mental ones. His body even reflected his training. He perfected his ability to sneak up and kill someone. He could possible rival those of the Brother Hood of Assassins. He viewed them as his idols but weren't all to eager to follow their ways. He believed down everything needed to get your target was needed to be done. Even if it meant spilling more blood then needed.
He had trained on assassination for the longest time. Using Deer for his targets because a deer will run if it feels it is in danger. He leaped out and had its throat cut before its head even turned. He was refining himself. Making him the perfect machine to use.
He retained his original goals. Fight for the weak. Destroy those that harm others for fun or spite. Never hurt those that don't deserve it. Judge by a mans actions not by his character.
He knew all of these he would work hard to stick to. To rid himself of the taint he placed upon himself in the past. He wouldn't allow himself to enter in such a state ever again?
"Two months after leaving"
"His hands"Bloodied from the ferocity of the training. His body sore and his breath small as if he breathed not. He would rest a full night's sleep and eat well. Eating full meals and working as ferociously as the day before. He washed twice a day. One couldn't smell even if alone. It would give away your position.
He gave himself the antidote to the poison which was his stupidity. He armed himself with more knowledge then he had before. He knew better then to take a job lightly and to over estimate or to under estimate your opponent. He was ready now to return?