A black-bearded, gray-robed Elementalist led the mob. He wore an orange brassard, on his right arm, with a flame symbol to signify his mastery over the element of fire. He held out a poster of a Wanted Sign with Shade’s face on it. Sure enough it said: Wanted Dead or Alive: 10,000 Blood Shillings. Shade’s glowing yellow eyes swept over the faces of the terrified mob. He did not see a mob, but a pack of harmless sheep. A dozen thugs merely looked into his eyes, turned and ran for their lives.
Shade unsheathed his blades. “Time to refill the tap.”
The Elementalist thrust his staff forward. A burst of flames blew through the tavern like a swell of dragon breath. Shade wheeled to the side. The mob surged in around the mage. Tables and barrels burned, but smoke clouded the room. Two Tulestine men ran in first, but broke out into a fit of coughing. He stabbed them each in the chest. They should not have been so easy, after all Tulestines were some of the best fighters in the world, but Shade would not press his luck. The mob surged in after them. Shade blocked a Drakoran axeman and swung his bloodstained dagger at a Syssrian guard to keep him at bay.
An ex-Doljinaarian soldier swung his pike at Shade. He sidestepped the attack, but his feet danced across the floor moving from one parry to the next. The mob was quite a gamble. He caught one Doelm spearman after a missed thrust. He handsprung backwards to escape the mob. He stopped next to the burning table. He kicked a flaming barrel at a Doelm. The barrel hit the Doelm in his hairy arm. He squealed as the fire ran up the tufts of arm fur and ignited the large patch on his broad back. The mob rushed the assassin.
Shade kicked over the burning table. It wafted up in front of the mob and they froze. He threw two, three, six blades in quick succession. He relished the groan each victim made with every throw. He drew another blade just in time to parry the Drakoran axeman again. He kicked the Drakor’s axe shaft and the blade cut into the dragon-man’s scaled neck. He pushed the Drakor backward. His wings flapped open just as he fell backward and knocked into another four men.
The assassin spun around. The Elementalist was there. He pointed his staff in Shade’s face, another devastating spell on the tip of his tongue. Shade ducked and knocked the staff off aim. Another mighty burst of flame shot from the staff’s crystal ball, but it burned the four men who got tangled under the Drakor. Shade cut the Elementalist at his ankle and the man went down screaming. He was about to finish him off when a Doelm grabbed him from behind. He gasped for breath as the Doelm’s brutish strength compressed his organs.
Shade jammed his knife into the Doelm’s side and he dropped him. He frowned. He was too much on the defensive. It was time to turn the tables. He slipped into unseen form. The crowd gasped and looked about.
Shade danced lightly on his feet cutting through one foe to the next. He moved through them like the angel of death itself. The bodies fells without so much as a glimpse at their killer. The panic spread like a blaze through the mob. Many more fled the tavern. The crowd thinned out until only nineteen brave fools remained. Shade let the others run. He saw another crowd gathering in the Black Markets, mere observers watching at a distance, but no one else joined his attackers.
The Elementalist struggled to his feet, leaning hard on his staff. “There!” he shouted pointing directly at the invisible assassin.
Shade did the man a favor and reappeared. The caster had been right of course, but there was no use in draining the sport out of the skirmish when so few lingered. He smirked boastfully at the survivors.
A Doelm bouncer sneered back. He growled and charged. He waved a torch at Shade making it difficult to riposte. The assassin jumped back and dodged the fire. He got behind another table and pushed it over. It landed on the Doelm’s big fat foot. The brute screamed. The Doelm fell and Shade slashed him across the neck. Two rough whiskered Terramothians rushed him swinging studded clubs at him. He whirled around them several times drawing blood until they finally collapsed under their many wounds. A Syssrah swung his kopesh sword at him. He parried the blade with ease and planted a dagger in the snake-man’s chest.
Shade stopped back at the bar for a drink. He took another long sip and set the glass back down. He spun around just in time to parry a sneaky Gutter Dwarf. He opened his offhand and flung a Blinding Shadow spell in the Dwarf’s face. The Dwarf growled and went down rubbing his eyes. He was about to kill the Dwarf when a stocky short Grull swung a bastard sword at him. He ducked. He grabbed a wine bottle and broke it over the Grull’s head. The man hit the ground out cold. A Doelm bounty hunter threw a throwing axe at him.
Shade spun to the side. He caught the axe in midair and threw it back at the Doelm. The Doelm’s eyes widened in shock. His own axe buried itself in his neck. Shade arrived back at the bar, as if his every movement had been carefully rehearsed. He grinned in spite of himself and took another drink. He turned back around.
He watched with satisfaction as two Braznians threw down their swords and left. Only six fools remained. Another three must have thought better of the bounty. Ten thousand blood shillings didn’t sound so good now. The Gutter Dwarf had left as well. The Elementalist scowled at Shade red-faced. Three Brigorian berserkers closed in on his position. The ex-Doljinaarian soldier gripped his pike. The Grull snored loudly still unconscious.
Shade retrieved more blades. He stalked around the three axe-waving Brigorians. He studied their movements expecting them to break into a frenzy at any second. The scar-faced Brigorian took a swing at him. Shade ducked. His dagger kissed the man across the cheek. The Brigorian blinked. He touched the dab of blood and his eyes erupted into a wildfire. All three berserkers rushed him. Shade ducked and evaded their blood-fueled blows. They broke nearly every barrel and table in The Green Barrel tavern. Shade shook his head, ‘Poor Bwedrig.’
The scar-faced Brigorian took another swing at the Dark Elf. Shade pulled off the splits and drove a dagger into the Brigorian’s spleen. The bald, black-goateed Brigorian hacked at the nimble assassin. Shade spun back to his feet. He rolled over the table just as it was cut in half.
The Brigorian threw the table aside. He charged through several more barrels hacking apart everything in his path. The assassin threw his blade at the man. It caught him in the shoulder, but he kept coming. Shade hurled another blade and the Brigorian finally went down. The last eye-patched Brigorian pounced on the unarmed assassin. The Dark Elf rolled under another table. The Brigorian hacked the table and chairs to pieces. Shade grabbed a broken table-leg. He jumped back up and lodged it deep in the Brigorian’s chest.
Shade walked back over to the bar breathing a little heavier this time. He threw back the meager remains of his wine. He wiped a red dribble off his cheek and spun around for the last time. Only the Elementalist and the ex-Doljinaarian soldier remained. The wounded caster leaned heavily on his staff by the doorway, just in case he needed to make a quick getaway. The Doljinn approached Shade. The man stank of desperation. He was scarred, but as filthy as a vagabond. He looked like a once high-ranking officer who had fallen into ruin, which made him dangerous.
The Doljinn waved the pike at Shade. His thrusts were slow and guarded. He did a good job of keeping Shade at a distance. The assassin obliged the dance for but a few moments and then quick as a flash, slipped past the man’s guard. He thrust his dagger at the Doljinn’s chest when the man surprised him. He caught Shade’s wrist. The blade dragged across the man’s chest, but did little more than cut the links in his chainmail. He backhanded Shade across the face with his gauntlet. Shade reeled backward, but kept his wits intact enough to disarm the man.