For Gold & Glory: Card of the Week: Royal Assassin

Scream murder, he's coming for you/Blade in his hand, he knows what to do

—Savatage, "Scream Murder"

The Alleys of Death

As I hurried down the narrow alleyway, with only the pale Mist Moon to light my way, I looked back yet again over my shoulder. There was nobody there, but I knew he hadn’t lost my trail. He’d been chasing me down these deadly alleys for long enough for me to know that he could follow me no matter how I tried to lose him. If I thought he was far enough behind me to give me enough time to collect myself and planeswalk away I would, but though I couldn’t see his shadow or hear his footsteps I knew he was too close.

With no hope of escape, I drew the fog about me as I ran. Once it was thick enough that I couldn’t see more than ten feet in front of me, I found a place to hide—a deep-set doorway in one of the close-looming stone walls. I didn’t try the ancient iron-banded door, but only a fool would leave such a door unbarred in this part of the city. Instead, I drew my sword. Though my pulse raced and my blood rushed to my head, I held as still as I could. Silence. And with the fog I’d summoned, I saw no more than I heard.

Had I escaped his pursuit? I doubted it. I carefully bent to the ground and picked up a stone, flung it to skitter further down the alley, then waited again. There he was! The blade in his hand glinted through the fog, and he approached with soundless steps. He appeared not to know where I was, as his eyes were fixed further down the alley. I didn’t wait to find out if he was bluffing—as soon as he came within reach, I lunged out at him. Stopping the point of my sword mere finger-widths from his throat I demanded him to drop his knife. “Do you yield?!”

If he was afraid, he did not show it. With his one good eye he stared back at me as he slowly raised his hand to show me where his blade was. “Let me live,” he croaked, “and you have my promise that your life is safe from me.”

It wasn’t long before we returned to the tavern where I had first noticed his approach, but this time the assassin sat across the table from me. Having taken his promise as true, I had offered him payment to tell me why I was his target. As far as I had known, I had done nothing to attract anybody’s ire.

Though we all know that the original artwork is the only artwork worth playing, Tom Wänerstrand's revisitation of his original artwork is really cool. It's certainly better than the weird face-painted version, anyway.

He took a deep drink, then wiped his mouth on the hem of his dun cloak. “It is the Queen,” he told me as he lowered his tankard back to the scarred benchtop. “She is a Sorceress, and she does not take kindly to those who poke into her secrets.”

“Truly?” I asked. “I have merely studied at the city’s great library.” Shaking my head, I added, “I didn’t even find any magical lore, much less any of her secrets. I cannot see why she felt so threatened.”

“It does not matter to her,” he said. “You are a mage, and therefore, you are a rival in her eyes. She does not suffer competition in her realm, especially not right under her nose, in the very seat of her power.” He took another draught of his drink. “I may have promised you your life, but there are many others like me in her employ. She will have her way.”

“Then I will not stay to bother her further. I will leave this very night and not return. You can tell her what you like—that I fled, that you chased me to the harbor where I drowned, whatever you see fit. Will this satisfy her?”

“Flee, then, as soon as you may. If you are beyond her reach, you will be safe—but know that her reach is long. I doubt that you can escape.”

I did as he suggested, but fled farther than he or his Queen could comprehend. It was many years before I returned to that plane, much less that city. Only after she, her assassins, and everyone else who might have remembered me had died did I return, and even then, I took great care not to draw the attention of those killers.

A History of Assassination

If prostitution is truly the oldest profession, then assassination must be the next oldest. Since the beginning of recorded history, people have killed other people for political power. Sometimes, these murders are carried out directly. But those marked for murder are often protected by guardsmen, servants, and soldiers. In these cases, hired assassins—either trained assassins or turncoats conveniently placed amongst the very guards and soldiers—are effective. Throughout history, countless emperors, kings, priests, and other powerful leaders have died on the assassin’s blade.

The employment of assassins by those in power is no rarity, either. Assassins have been used as tools of the more brutal varieties of statecraft by the powerful in countless civilizations. It can even be said that most governments resort to assassination, whether directly or by couching it in terms of the work of “secret police” or “targeted killings” by snipers or other elite soldiers.

The concept of the Royal Assassin is common in fiction. In addition to the Realm of the Elderlings here, royally-sanctioned assassins can be found in the Malazan Empire, Tsolyánu and the other nations of Tékumel, Eärwa's Kellian Empire, and probably lots more that I haven't read yet.

Insurance Through Assassination

Mages have employed Royal Assassins for as long as duels have been fought. No matter how fearsome a rival’s summons are, all but a few fall to the Assassin’s blade when sent against his liege. Only those vigilant in combat escape unscathed, and the threat of assassination is often enough to hold back a rival’s forces from combat...at least until the rival finds a way to dispatch the Assassin.

The classic combo. I'd guess that this is the first card synergy that many of us stumbled upon back in the day.

A mage who controls an Assassin may wait for his or her rival’s allies to attack, but a clever mage will force their hands. The Icy Manipulator is the perennial favorite tool for the Assassin’s liege. With it, a mage no longer has to wait to be attacked, but can deploy his or her assassin at will—no battle necessary.