Meet Wret, a favored son among the rogues and criminals who quite conceitedly refer to themselves, in hushed whispers, as Midnight’s Pryde. Our bloke’s steps are silent as slippers on a spider; his blade separates flesh as clean as fire and all that gleans him a rank among the privileged killers named Silent Slicers…..Or he was, right up until now; at his first opportunity to cut down a lordling with a name worth the effort, the kind of kill to set him on a path of notoriety with pouches full of coin, well, he’s just spilt the kettle. he’s buggered it and made a mess of it. This is a ‘succeed or die’ kind of thing and Wret has failed and lived. But the living, that’s only temporary, as he’s now embarrassed the Pryde and as such, his life isn’t worth two grunts for a shat.