Nolíte captivitátem, non misericórdiam. The Apperius family motto. Take no prisoners, have no mercy. Julius Augustus Apperius believed in that motto whole heartedly. And he would gladly kill anyone who crossed him on a job. That, after all, was his job. A sharp noise rose him from his reverie. He looked around and saw the caravan holding his target, the merchant Gaius Brucis Toroponis. A Greek. The worst of scum. This was one kill he would relish and savor for weeks afterward. Julius crept forward, searching the caravan with his mind until he found Gaius. He was in the last carriage, hidden by gold and silver. Julius crept forward a little more at a time, until he was directly behind the carriage, which had stopped. Suddenly, he felt an odd tugging in his chest. He looked down and saw a steel blade directly through his heart. He crouched there, looking at it as it slid out of his body. Then the world started to dim, the heat in his limbs fading. Then he felt the blade at his neck. Then he felt nothing as the blade sliced through his neck, detaching his head from his body. And as simple as that, Julius Augustus Apperius was no more.
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