Slightly inspired after re-reading some Discworld books in which the Assassins' Guild is mentioned. This isn't fan art, though, just another city in another imaginary universe that also happens to have a guild for people who kill for a living.

The collar linings are a status indicator, a bit like different belts in martial arts. The assassins gain experience points by the number of murders successfully carried out, stealth, high-rank kills (a king's advisor is worth more than a lowly secretary), etc. Red is for beginners, green is middle ground (but hard to achieve) and after that comes...I'm not sure yet. Probably silver collar or something like that.


"Edmund Parfitt glanced around and took in the scene.

Daniel Lyons, assiduous social climber and relative newcomer was currently engaged in a bubbling conversation with a senior member. Parfitt had always felt mild distaste towards young Lyons and suspected the feeling was mutual. Nouveau riche parents who'd unexpectedly found themselves sitting on a pile of gold after the passing of a distant aunt and must have felt their boy now deserved a top class education, and what more proper than the most distinguished guild in the city? Never mind that it produced assassins; whatever the boy learned there could only come in useful should he ever decide to become a hard-nosed business shark like his father.

Not that Parfitt wouldn't admit that Lyons definitely had some natural talent. His talkative and superficial exterior annoyed many senior members of the guild, but patient observation quickly lead one to see past the charade. Such as Lyons was putting on right now.

He may have been a newcomer and a little cocky, but Lyons was no fool. His talent lay in welcoming people to believe he was, lulling them into a false sense of security. People would laugh politely at his stupid jokes and have a few polite drinks with him and, after enough glasses, politely reveal to him just a little bit more of themselves than was strictly necessary, or wise. It was only Lyons, after all, the peacock clown. And the assassin trainee would nod and smile and pour them another drink and sometimes surreptitiously add a drop or two from a little green bottle concealed within his sleeve while the other party was momentarily distracted. Lyons' speciality was poison, fitting for his character. He seeped under people's skins under the guise of harmlessness and the last thing many of them saw as they fought the sudden drowsiness and blurred vision was his sunny smile.

Silent but deadly, minus the silent.

He was still a newcomer, though. It wasn't only the red collar lining that made it so obvious. If Lyons had a weakness it was his self-confidence which would before long either be shaken out of him or end in his downfall.

His current conversation partner was Jacob Blackmoore, a green-collar like Parfitt.

Lyons offered to refill Blackmoore's wineglass for him, snatching it up before Blackmoore even had time to refuse. Parfitt kept his eye on Lyons' swiftly dancing hands, careful not to blink, and sure enough, there it was, the glint of the small green bottle.

A daring move, trying to off an old-timer like Lord Blackmoore. Foolish, too. He was wearing an expression that easily conveyed to anyone watching that he would tolerate Lyons and his silly stories for now, but the old tiger hadn't come this far in the guild to be caught off his guard by a mere beginner. No self-respecting green-collar should. He could read the man like an open book. Something suggested to Parfitt that Lyons was aware of this, perhaps. He was even chattier than usual, suggesting a hint of nervousness. Perhaps Danny-boy should have remembered a little earlier that Blackmoore didn't bother fiddling around with chemicals. He was someone who could stab a man to death in the middle of a crowded room, walk away and no one might even realize a crime had been committed until the next morning when the maid complained.

Parfitt turned away, reached into his pocket and pulled out his gold watch. He smirked.

Whichever of the two would still remain standing at the end of the evening, they wouldn't be able to enjoy it for long. Parfitt had made arrangements, and come midnight, this party was going to get a lot more interesting for everyone."



Edit: I've never really kept count on hours on a drawing before, this is the first time I did:

1 day, 17 hours, 23 minutes,
Photoshop CS