Showdown in the Dark
Whilst Theo Nightsky was suffering from a massive headache due to the presence of Farmer in his city, the guilty pirate lord was leisurely strolling around Yort as he headed towards Mhyrrah's establishment in order to collect his remaining purchases. Once there, he went over a few arrangements for the auction they had planned in the coming days and carefully laid out every detail of its organisation. According to his instructions, invitations to the event were to be sent out the following morning; allowing enough time for word to travel far out to the two arcane schools of the region as well as other important figures. Then they both frolicked together for the better part of the day; forgetting the passage of time within each other's embrace.
Ultimately, Farmer left the building a happy man. However, he was perplexed to see the uproar that the city guard was causing in order to find his 'spies'.
Farmer carefully observed those being taken away in the heavily armoured carriages up the street towards the bastille a few miles away. From time to time, the guards transporting these people would cast him complicated and forlorn looks. How could they not know that all this trouble was caused by Farmer? After all, he was quite easily identifiable with his violet eyes and blood-red hair.
To make matters worse, some guards had explained to onlookers that this measure was necessary in order to bring Farmer to justice. And now they had to walk past the man without so much as raising a finger against him! What a joke, he could easily kill any number of them as long as he set his mind to it. It was understandable that onlookers would criticise the city guard for not being true to their words.
In fact, after just a few minutes of Farmer calmly standing to one side, a rumour emerged that Nightsky was taking advantage of the situation to execute any and all dissidents without them going through the proper judicial channels. Despite this rumour being untrue, it spread like wildfire amongst the lower classes of Yort in less than two hours.
Farmer himself was acting bemused at the visible struggling of the city guards. However, he also felt a bit bad for the innocents he'd involved in this matter. In his defence, though, he hadn't seriously considered that Nightsky would be so besieged with paranoia that he would actually incarcerate these people.
"Whatever." He sighed to himself as he turned to leave. "It's not like I can save everybody. Plus, this matter will be over with in a couple of days."
Farmer kept muttering to himself under his breath as he made his way into a dark and narrow alley on one of the smaller streets in Yort. Once he walked to the halfway point in the alleyway, he stopped and coquettishly flashed a smile to one of the rooftops.
"Well, then, gentlemen, are you here to help a poor old tourist find his way back to his abode?" He asked to the seemingly empty space on top of him. "Or are you here to ask me out on a date? Truth be told, I don't swing that way, but I'd be happy to introduce you to a few people who do." He snickered evilly.
"You dare!" A deep voice boomed from the surroundings and eleven robed figures emerged from the shadows as they stood in a seemingly inescapable formation. Knowing that Farmer was potentially an expert in counter-tracking, they had long discarded the notion of pouncing on him and catching him off guard. However, they had never expected that the man in question would willingly try to provoke their anger.
"I dare what?" Quizzically inquired Farmer. "You're hiding around like bashful fangirls. What conclusions was I supposed to come to besides that? I mean, that guy there, the third from the right, is breathing so heavily he is either completely aroused by the sight of my arse or he smokes too much Techfiss."
Immediately, the eleven assassins tensed up. Not because of the insult, but because of Farmer's accurate observation. The man in question, Rory, was heavily addicted to Techfiss, but this was a secret not even Noram was privy to. How could Farmer possess such heaven-defying powers of observation?
In truth, it wasn't powers of observation that led Farmer to this conclusion, it was his spiritual sense which could instantly reveal every details in his surroundings within a fraction of a fraction of a second. That being said, he wasn't going to clarify their misconception.
"Bastard!" Cursed the leader of the assassins between clenched teeth. "He's trying to rile us up. Don't let him succeed. Attack!"
With that, the eleven assassins set into motion all at once. Three remained at the back and threw out a series of dark needles which were aimed at precluding Farmer from taking advantage of any escape route; sealing his movements into a predetermined and easily manageable area. The other eight drew their weapons, malevolent looking short-swords coated in deadly poison, and aimed their most powerful attacks at his different vital areas. Despite the limited visibility, Farmer could still see each detail as clearly as if it were day.
It must be said that such a formation was impressive, indeed, and the assassin's coordination had reached the very peak; wherein they needed only exchange a passing glance to understand each other. In addition, each one of the assassins was at the fifth arcane dimension. Overall, this formation was one that could threaten any seventh dimension practitioner.
Any except Farmer, that is.
Smiling wryly at his would-be assailants, Farmer pounced towards the closest two with the speed of thought. With his nimble footwork and agile movements, he dodged their blades and managed to move behind their backs even before their minds registered what was going on.
Before they could turn to face him, he struck the both of them with an extended index finger on the back of their necks. His fingers, hardened by countless hours of intense training, easily perforated their skull; then he emitted a small amount of arcane energy from his fingertips which turned their brains into a mushy paste, killing them swiftly and relatively painlessly.
Seeing their companions dropping to their knees without uttering a sound, the other assassins were momentarily at a loss. They had never witnessed something like that before. Taking advantage of their brief lapse of judgement, Farmer pulled out five throwing knives and tossed them out in quick succession. So quick, in fact, that it seemed as if only one projectile had left his fingers.
Each of the knives met their target, and five assassins found themselves bleeding profusely from their throats. These included the three that stayed behind to throw needles at him.
It took long to describe, but all this took place in a mere few seconds of time.
These five deaths roused the remaining four from their stupor. Angry and frustrated, the survivors roared towards the heavens and rushed towards Farmer without any intention of surviving this encounter. All they could think about was avenging their fallen comrades.
Farmer couldn't help but shake his head in disdain. Were they to be a true group of assassins, they would take the opportunity to flee far away and prepare for another attack; they could even give a report on his fighting style so that an adequate plan be drafted. By rushing at him senselessly, they were only freely giving themselves to death without gaining anything in return. Opponents of such calibre weren't worthy of him using his weapon.
They weren't even worthy of him fighting back!
Still shaking his head disdainfully, Farmer stood frozen on the spot as the four swords struck him on his chest. For a moment, the four assassins couldn't believe their eyes; they had struck Farmer down!
However, the next moment saw them plunging in absolute despair. Farmer was grinning maniacally as his eyes flashed them with infinite ridicule. The blades of their weapons hadn't even cut the surface of his skin! In that moment, the assassins shared the same thought: 'monster!'
What a joke! Even if his arcane power was limited to the seventh dimension whilst on land, his body was still at the very peak of the eighth dimension. These assassins never stood a chance! It would be surprising if they even managed to cut a hair of his.
"How queer." Coldly remarked Farmer. "This didn't even itch..." As soon as he finished speaking, he reached out and grabbed the head of one of the remaining assassins. "C'mon, put your backs into it or I'll kill him! Make me bleed! Hurt me! Kill me! Fucking DO SOMETHING!" He shouted out with madness in his voice.
Nonetheless, no matter how hard the assassins pushed down, they couldn't do anything against this monster. Sighing in disappointment, Farmer flicked his wrist and tore off the head of the assassin he was holding. The torn head still had a horrified expression even as he tossed it so that it landed perfectly on a barrel towards the side; as if it had just been an unwilling spectator to a gruesome show.
The other three exclaimed in complete fear and tried to jump away from Farmer; praying to whatever gods they knew to allow them to get away from this calamity. The swore in their hearts to abandon this profession and pursue righteous endeavours.
But how could Farmer let them leave just like that?
Spinning around on the ball of his foot, Farmer slapped the heads of two assassins clean off and dragged the remaining one to kneel right in front of him. As fate would have it, it was Rory, the Techfiss addict.
Rory was completely pale, and he looked as if he were about to die from fright at any moment. Gone were his desires for revenge. In fact, he was cursing his leader for ever accepting a contract on this monstrosity.
"I'm not going to kill you." Said Farmer gently and without any shadow of malice on his face. It was hard to believe that such an expression could come from the man responsible for the bloodbath earlier.
"You won't?" Asked Rory full of hope.
"Nope." Smiled Farmer. "I want you to tell your boss not to be impatient, that his time will come. Tell him he should just sit back, relax, and wait for me."
With that, Farmer disappeared from the alleyway, the exquisiteness of his movement techniques laid bare for Rory to marvel at. However, Rory was in no state of mind to know he'd just been ordered to report something to his superior because the last thing he heard was Farmer's confirmation that he wasn't going to die.
As soon as Farmer left, Rory departed towards the nearest drug den. He had every intention of going on the greatest bender of his life and, after that night, he would leave Yort and start a new life at a farm.
It's a pity that none of that was ever meant to be. It was perhaps because he was completely shaken by Farmer, that Rory didn't realise that he was taking too much Techfiss in a very short period of time. He died of an overdose not three hours after being granted a new lease at life.
--
In a forgotten corner of the city of Yort was an unremarkable building in an unremarkable neighbourhood that very few people knew was there. This was Noram's headquarters in Yort, and it was also the place from where each one of his agents would receive their assignments and depart to carry them out.
The moon was high in the sky and Noram was struggling to fall asleep. Right now, he was glancing at a half-empty goblet of fine wine without realising what he was looking at. He was deep in thought about the contents of a report he'd received a while back and which now was strewn about on the surface of his desk behind him.
He dared not believe it was real.
Suddenly, an alarm bell sounded from a few blocks away, bringing Noram back to reality. Dozens of footsteps could be heard emerging from all around as they headed in the direction the alarm was coming from; but Noram didn't care because he had a terrible feeling that this was the last bell he would ever hear.
"Truly, your men's efficiency is one that I marvel to be privy to." Spoke up a voice casually from the entrance to Noram's room.
Usually, this would be a cause for Noram to be completely startled. His room was supposedly hidden within a labyrinth of concealed passages only a select number of individuals had knowledge of. Furthermore, there were hundreds of different traps laid put to ward off potential intruders.
However, Noram had been expecting this visit. Reaching out for the goblet of wine with his remaining arm, Noram turned to face the intruder.
Standing in a relaxed manner right next to the door of his room was Farmer. He was dressed in dark leather armour which was stained with both dry and fresh blood; clearly indicating that he'd been indulging himself in murder for the better part of the last few hours. In addition, not one of his blood-red hairs was out of place, nor did his piercing violet eyes betray his intentions. He stood completely at ease, with a gaze as if he were meeting an old friend.
"It is a true honour to hear the great pirate lord Farmer praise my men like that." Nodded Noram respectfully. He was speaking candidly.
"Aren't you going to call them over?" Playfully asked Farmer as a strange glint appeared in his eyes.
"Would it make any difference if I did?" Waved the notion away Noram and without waiting for a response, he continued speaking. "It was you who slaughtered my assassins earlier on this afternoon, right?"
"I killed ten. The last one, I let live." Admitted Farmer without an ounce of regret in his voice.
"Might as well have killed him. The man was an addict. As soon as you left, he killed himself via an overdose." Sighed Noram. "Anyway, I just got news of that event a short while back and, I must admit, even though I was trying my hardest not to, I still underestimated your capabilities.
"Did you know a group of city guards came through that alleyway not long after you left? The blood was still warm. The point is, a few of them belched and emptied the contents of their stomachs!" Laughed Noram.
"Not my fault that the city guard is full of cowards." Scornfully remarked Farmer. "But this has hardly anything to do with the matter at hand, does it?"
"Quite right, good Farmer." Nodded Noram. "Forgive this old man, Farmer, it's just that, even now, at the tender age of fifty-eight, I am still scared stiff of the notion of dying! Thus, take this as an old man on his deathbed engaging in casual conversation."
"Death bed? My good Noram, you're in good enough health to live for at least another decade!"
"Excuse me?" Asked Noram in disbelief. "You're not here to kill me?"
"Oh, Naosh save me, no." Said Farmer as he took a few steps to take a seat right in front of Noram. "I'm here to tell you what my plans are."
After this statement was made, one party in the conversation held their breath because they truly couldn't understand anything that was going on. The other, far more dangerous party, was smiling mysteriously with an expression on his face as if he held every little detail of the world in the palm of his hand.