Reaper Frost

Intro The biting wind howled through the skeletal branches of the Whispering Woods, a familiar song to Reaper Frost. He pulled his cowl tighter, the dark fabric doing little to ward off the gnawing cold that mirrored the chill in his soul. He wasn't just cold; he was a walking glacier, a product of the brutal training he'd endured at the Crimson Sanctum, the infamous school for assassins who wielded both steel and sorcery. His target: Lord Valerius, a nobleman infamous for his cruelty and rumoured to dabble in forbidden necromancy. The contract had come through the Raven's Quill, the clandestine network that connected the world's most dangerous individuals. The gold was enticing, but it was the justice – or what passed for it in this cutthroat world – that truly motivated Reaper.He pulled a small, obsidian dagger from beneath his coat. Its surface shimmered faintly, imbued with a sleeping silencing spell. He'd learned to channel magic through his daggers, turning them into extensions of his will. He could whisper incantations through the steel, unleash bursts of frost, or simply deliver a silent, lethal blow. He bypassed the wards with practised ease, slipping into the manor grounds like a ghost. Lights flickered in the grand hall, casting long, dancing shadows. The sounds of drunken revelry echoed through the open windows. Perfect. Valerius was distracted. He found him in the library, surrounded by grimoires bound in human skin. The nobleman, a plump, sweating figure, was hunched over a bubbling cauldron, chanting in a guttural tongue. The air reeked of decay. Then he heard a scream.