Zafar's time in Reim was a busy one, far more active and entertaining than the boredom he suffered through in Balbadd. Sure, the sea side trade city was rife with underground crime and smuggling. There was no shortage of work for one such as Zafar in an official capacity. The need for assassins was plentiful, especially since Balbadd's cabinet seats had been mostly empty when Zafar was there. Plenty of candidates wanted their competition dealt with before nominations could ever even be put forth. The gold could flow in much faster than Zafar could spend it and he had no feelings of guilt about draining the deep deep pockets of greedy and corrupt merchants. There was a certain pleasure he took in raising the prices and watching them sweat at the thought of parting with more of their precious wealth.
Alas, there was no joy or pleasure to be had from the kills he'd been contracted to do. The targets were always weak fat men with no spines. The scum of humanity with nothing but boastful guards with wild and grandiose nick names like, "Iron Fist" and "Undying Zombie" only for Zafar to quickly dispatch them as the amateurs they were in the art of killing. For someone like Zafar who craved a thrilling battle to the death, it simply wouldn't do.
Reim wasn't quite as good for business for Zafar, as the cities here had far less corruption. Especially in the grand capital Remano where prosperity was on the rise after the post-war recovery really began to kick in. But the surplus of strong fighters who venture to the coliseum in odd bloodthirsty pilgrimages made the location like some kind of holy ground for Zafar. Or at the very least, a bountiful "feeding" ground. It had been roughly two years since he'd arrived in Reim and in that time Zafar had fought many wandering warriors who had come to try their might in the great arena of Remano. Not a single one he'd challenged had managed to survive the encounter though. Most were weaklings at first, so Zafar spent the first portion of his time learning how to pick out the strong beasts from the insects.
Zafar learned to contain his bloodlust and watch the fights rather than simply ambush random warriors as they left pubs in the dead of night. At first it was difficult to hold back his destructive urges, but each time he killed a pathetic loser in seconds without so much as a fight being put up, the seed of patience grew within him. It was so much more rewarding when he suppressed his killing intent and learned to observe fighters of quality. He's come to appreciate the value of stalking them before making a move. Learning his target's patterns and quirks in order to ensure that when he did confront them, it was far from any potential witnesses where he could enjoy taking his time with his prey.
Assassin Training C -> B: 505/1000
Alas, there was no joy or pleasure to be had from the kills he'd been contracted to do. The targets were always weak fat men with no spines. The scum of humanity with nothing but boastful guards with wild and grandiose nick names like, "Iron Fist" and "Undying Zombie" only for Zafar to quickly dispatch them as the amateurs they were in the art of killing. For someone like Zafar who craved a thrilling battle to the death, it simply wouldn't do.
Reim wasn't quite as good for business for Zafar, as the cities here had far less corruption. Especially in the grand capital Remano where prosperity was on the rise after the post-war recovery really began to kick in. But the surplus of strong fighters who venture to the coliseum in odd bloodthirsty pilgrimages made the location like some kind of holy ground for Zafar. Or at the very least, a bountiful "feeding" ground. It had been roughly two years since he'd arrived in Reim and in that time Zafar had fought many wandering warriors who had come to try their might in the great arena of Remano. Not a single one he'd challenged had managed to survive the encounter though. Most were weaklings at first, so Zafar spent the first portion of his time learning how to pick out the strong beasts from the insects.
Zafar learned to contain his bloodlust and watch the fights rather than simply ambush random warriors as they left pubs in the dead of night. At first it was difficult to hold back his destructive urges, but each time he killed a pathetic loser in seconds without so much as a fight being put up, the seed of patience grew within him. It was so much more rewarding when he suppressed his killing intent and learned to observe fighters of quality. He's come to appreciate the value of stalking them before making a move. Learning his target's patterns and quirks in order to ensure that when he did confront them, it was far from any potential witnesses where he could enjoy taking his time with his prey.
Assassin Training C -> B: 505/1000