Sultanate Assassin

They go by many names: Ghost Wolves, the Secret Knives, Subtle Vipers, the Sultan’s Wrath. Whatever they are called, assassins of the sultanate instil terror in the hearts of even the most dauntless.

Assassins are a legendary order of mystic warriors, notorious the world over for their esoteric arts and ruthlessness. Atop a forbidding mountain broods the onyx fortress, Alamut the Unconquerable. Behind its shadowed walls great secrets are hoarded by the ancient magi. Some say that the founder of the Order of Assassins, Rashid ad-Din Sinan, best known as the Old man of the Mountain, still holds his court here. A preposterous rumour, naturally, since that would make him close to eight centuries old.

Though the Isma’ili Sect of Assassins is seen as heretical by many within the lands of the Iron Wall, a pact forged between Sultan and the Mountain ensures that the warbands of the believers often include one of these supreme killers in their service.

Assassins are able to bend space and time using sacred rituals and powerful hallucinogens discovered by magi of the order. With this esoteric power they prowl behind enemy lines, hunting their targets with merciless efficiency. They can seemingly appear in two places at once, strike an enemy with startling speed and then travel back in time to a moment a few heartbeats before, safe from any retaliation.

They do this in service of their Sultan, whose enemies they are charged to destroy in a form of ritual holy murder. To carry out this task, the assassins are painfully altered by many powerful unguents, chemicals and potions. They stand much taller than a normal man and are many times as fast and strong.

Though adept with all manner of weapons, assassins favour the poisoned blades forged in the unknown depths of Alamut. These weapons are imbued with the Supreme Poison: The Milk of Manat, also known as The Cup of Death. A simple touch of these blades upon unprotected flesh is certain death, as the body of the victim turns black and rots from within over the course of several excruciating seconds.

In Cthonic chambers deep below the surface, generations of young assassins are raised, where they are fed an awful, bitter diet rich with strange toxins. Generation by generation, their tolerance grows, until the blood of these willing vessels is drawn and then smelted into a poisonous iron. The iron is forged into wicked, curving blades and deadly spells of slaying are layered into each fold of the toxic metal. Finally the red-hot blades are quenched in the venom of the pale, unnatural offspring of a basilisk and manticore. Thus the blood of the first generation of Assassins still lives to this day, growing more potent with each generation.