Selfless, Brave, And True

Discontent had settled within the depths of the assassin. With Tortuga, with their leader, with their customs, with their laws. She was by definition an assassin. bred to kill, bred to destroy. Tortuga remained in the shadows, content to watch the world tick by... but why? They had power in their ranks and monsters in their strength why not conquer, why not destroy? Why were they so content to watch the world pass by and do nothing... she grew restless. She needed an outlet, a task, an assignment. Her muscles remained keen and precisioned, nearly a day passed her by when she did not hone her skills, her two toned gaze, one blue, one gold fell upon the ruler of Valhalla and she gave pause, for a moment, tempted to strike but that notion fell just as quickly. He was not an assignment and she was not a killer.

"Collision, King of Valhalla... what brings you so far east?" Her tones were low, smooth, a deep baritone that coasted from her larynx. She drew up before him, seating herself. "My name is Cyanide."