ELIAS
Rogues were here.
Not just any rogues—Snarebloods and the Marked.
Snarebloods were infamous for their traps, poisons, and silent kills. No one ever heard them coming. Only the snap of a wire, the sting of a dart, or the slow crawl of paralysis before death was enough to announce their presence.
The Marked were even worse. They were hired assassins, each branded with black raceme tattoos that bloomed like twisted vines across their skin. It was said that if you saw one up close, you were already dead. They were different in their methods, but shared one thing in common. They never missed a target.
Even among rogues, they were feared.
Was I scared of them? Um, no. But do I feel like acting senselessly and facing them off? I'd rather not!
