A First Attempt Lore Piece

Hey, I'm Deckbarb and I've never really paid much attention to the lore of League, but I got bored of the typical rift today, and I had the idea to write a somewhat short piece of lore. I'd really appreciate critique as I'd like to be come a better writer and only you can help me! Thanks, and enjoy:

Under the Cloak

“His breath was wavering, yet his blood pulsed with steadfast intent, keen on his one goal. Through the corner of his eye behind the bend of a wall, he visualized two Demacian guards, ordained with white gold inlaid Demacian symbols and gems embellished skillfully on a set of silver breastplates. The guard placing his open palm on the oak door seemed rather intoxicated with an empty flask at his side, dangling by a thin cord. His head tilted to and fro in a mesmerizing pattern with an empty grin that lit up the cavern. He seemed to pay little attention to the other, who kept his cleanly shaven face centered at his friend. He made brash chiding remarks that shook the door. The guard gestured furiously, attempting to convey some point to his accomplice, but due to his cantankerous mood and the other’s woozy head, he wasn’t making any progress. The assassin waited for a moment to strike; he needed to find any sort of an opening. Any slight end of construe would be opportune in order for him to continue past the door.

Suddenly, the guards found themselves distracted at a certain nook in the brick wall they were facing. Finding safety in his clandestine location, talons flew out. He dashed at extreme speeds to the distraught guard, slicing his throat, leaving a bloody mess that pooled all over the floor. The other guard had never experienced anything like this sanguine mess the assassin had made. With a stumbling start, he took an effete run away from the door, but didn’t make it far as blades entered and exited his torso in a clean fashion that sliced the poor man to a pile of bones and alcohol tainted flesh. Sheer routine uncovered itself as the assassin performed each efficacious step knowing full well what would result. This all took place in less than ten seconds. In a sly manner, he stepped to the door and lock picked it almost instantaneously where he reached a damp expanse of brick walls fashioned in a circular manner. Bolted in the middle was a rusty iron ladder that extended to a hatch in the ceiling. Carefully, but quickly, scaling the ranking, he lifted the hefty trap door that led him to a mucky exit covered in wet moss. The dispatcher found himself in the middle of an expansive forest, where, under the eye of the soaked gleaming moon and the dripping flat branched trees, he scurried away to safety into darkness.”