The Bloody Rose

                                                                                            The Bloody Rose

           Tyronin strolled the streets of Gilneas, his cane making a consistent tapping noise on the cobblestone streets. Rain fell lightly on the dark city, and most everyone was inside, save for a few people under black umbrellas, scurrying along the streets. Tyronin did not use an umbrella, he never had, for he loved the feel of the droplets falling along his shoulders, and dripping from the old tophat he wore. The Gilnean man twirled the cane in his hand, spraying droplets of water off to the side.

           Tyronin ended his stroll at an old store near the gate. He knocked on the old wooden door loudly with the knob atop his cane, "Cornelius, let me in.", he said demandingly, his voice had the accent of a proper Gilnean. The door creaked as it was opened a few inches. "Wot do yeh wan' now! I told ye kids I ain' got no more bloody candy!" he said loudly, jabbing a finger into Tyronin's eye promptly, causing him to exclaim loudly in pain, "DAMMIT, CORNELIUS. It's me, you blind old bloke!" This caused Cornelius to flinch and open the door, "Tyronin? Ohhhh, hello there! Did yeh....did yeh get me letter?" he said with a nervous, toothless smile. "Yes, but before we go into it further, let me in; I'm getting bloomin' soaked out here, dammit." he grumbled, pushing past the old man to get into the warm, cozy, general goods store.

          "You know what I want, hand it over." Tyronin said calmly, not waiting for any more pleasantries. "You owe the group over fifty gold pieces now, an' you'd find it in your best interest if yeh paid right quick." he said as he took off his tophat, sitting it near the stove to warm it. "B-but, business 'as been slow lately, ye can' expect me tuh come up with that much so fast!" the old man said with a nervous frown, as he backed towards his desk, hand reaching inside the drawer. Tyronin withdrew a simple throwing knife, "Do not even think about it, ye old bloke. You know I'm the one who will win that little scuffle." he said with a very wicked and cruel smile. "Let's just see how much money you've accumulated over the last few days, and we'll see what we can do." Tyronin said as he walked to the counter, drumming his fingers on the polished wood.

         "N-no!" the old man said as Tyronin retrieved a hefty bag of gold. "Holding out on us, Cornelius? Tsk tsk." Tyronin said with a shake of his head. The old man retrieved a flintlock pistol from his desk, pointing it at Tyronin. "J-just leave here, mistuh. Ain' nobody got to die tonight." he said, the old man's hands shaking not just with age. Tyronin laughed loudly, then threw the knife at the old man, impaling his chest, the blade just long enough to puncture his heart. The old man fell to the floor, writhing in agony. "I'll take this." Tyronin winked as he put the bag of gold in his pocket. "Have a nice night." said he as he dropped a dark red rose on the man's chest, dousing it in blood while doing so. "Shame, actually...He did have some nice butterscotch." thought the murderer, chuckling to himself as he left casually.