He had a rude awakening that morning. A peculiar and rancid smell pervaded the air of the island. It was disgusting, not something rotting, though it was close to that stench. The assassin breathed it in, only to cough as he could taste the smell. He hated when smells were strong like that, that you could taste it on your tongue.

Curious, though reviled, he traced the source of the stench to the shore of the lake, and spent a while narrowing it down. Soon he found that the smell wafted from a cave mouth he had not seen before. He had half a mind to stick his head in and explore, though if the stench clung to his pelt he would loath going in that place ever again.