Damp boots strike sand at a run to swiftly take to shadow. One dark building to another in shadow he moved out of sight and out of place. None here would be welcoming to him as he stole through the darkness avoiding light of lanterns hung on street poles.
Guards did speak and one came to close. Close enough to notice a dark figure in shadow. Foolish some become when minds think themselves eternal and feet carry them stupidly unto death. The song of a blade leaving booted scabbard and silence took the guard. Moved then to be found by others as sun would kiss the corpse. The guard laid to rest near sand far enough away as to offer escape as alarm would sound when morning came.
Swiftly then the tall dark figure raced to walk along roof above those that guard the night. Peering over the top of the buildings he watched as paths set by guards became constant. Feet practiced in walking patterns on prison grounds tread loudly nearly stomping to announce to inmates kept that they are watched. One guard falls then another hauled up to the roof and left to sleep an eternity.
Hearing the song of his own the spectre drops and taps a window. Food is dropped to a man then sword and oil most foul. "Oh Sir Spectre, give thanks to Tristan" Spoken softly as the inmate begins to eat and build strength for what he must do on his own. "Fortune be yours, lad" Spoken in a gruff hushed voice. "Find the Jagar, a merchanteer in the harbor and show your mark. We will see you again at home... Or we will not."
Hearing a girl cry the spectre drops to a cell just below. Peering in sees a small figure covered in furs and shivering. The spectre drops food and a sharp blade into the cell then is gone.
Racing along roofs leaping into shadow then down a hidden cove to a serpant ship. The Spectre vanishes from whence he came.
