Based on Ubisoft's Assassin's Creed Series

Assassin's Creed

Vive L'Empereur!

This chapter is rated M!

A Man needs fun!

16. Vendémiarie VIII, Paris (8. October 1799)

(Look for music on youtube, with "Assassin's Creed Unity - Traditional French Songs" – that's the background music for this chapter ;-) )

"These damn assholes!", I scream, when I throw the jug against the wall. The sheet bounces off the wall and hits one of the other guest's back.

The giant, whose hairs are as long as his beard, stands up immediately with an angry looking face, yelling: "You damn drunkard, don't you have eyes in your face?!"

I need such a guy now.

"When I wouldn't have, I would have missed you.", I provoke him and stand up myself now.

The giant thrusts past his companions and stops directly in front of my nose. He is at least one head taller than me…maybe two, can't tell properly in my current state. His colleagues stare at me equally angry and two stood up as well even – in total there are four, not counting the giant here…or 8, but then they would be spread on two tables as well and the giant would have an ugly twin…when it is possible to be even uglier.

I stop directly in front of the giant, arms bended towards my body. I expose my yellow teeth, which is why the giant flinches, grabbing his nose. "You damn skunk!", he yells disgusted.

I raise my right arm and sniff at it. "Is only the smell of the sewer, you femmelette.", I reply and remember my adventure to find this bar in a drunken state.

That disgusts him even more apparently, but this time he doesn't flinch. "When you insult me once again, you'll regret it.", he threatens me and lifts his forefinger in my direction.

Idiot.

Quickly I have grabbed the finger and twisted it around – along with arm – so that the giant starts screaming in pain, kneeling down lightly – Hey, now I can look into the eyes of this douchebag!

"Ach, will I, shitface?", I explain grinning, while his comrades have stood up completely now.

Finally…

The first is charging towards me, while I break the finger with a further twist completely now. The first one is always the unhappiest, like I know…I can barely suppress my laughter.

Quickly his arms are up and I block a dashing fist from the right with my right arm. I have stepped closer to my second victim, fast, and hit his head, hard. He moans in pain and grabs his broken nose, while I grab his arm and throw him at victim number 3.

Both crash into the table, which is why it falls apart – this bar has bad quality.

Victim number 1 is still busy with his broken finger, while victim number 4 runs at me – he from left and victim number 5 from the right. With few steps I have reached 4, who takes a big swing with a surprised face. A quick punch against the chin destroys these plans. Quickly I turn around to 5, whose fist flies already at my face.

In the right moment I turn my head in the direction of the punch, which is why it looks indeed as if he had hit me, but in reality he has brushed me at best. I turn my head back rapidly and kick his privates with full force.

Turning left to 4 follows, who attacks again already, but I dive under his fist and grab his arm. I turn around quickly and throw 4 above my shoulder against the next wooden pillar, which should keep this place up – it withstands it, my respect.

My head turns around to 1, who attacks me with his non-injured hand…come on, are you serious?!

I use his open position rapidly and hit him several times in the chest, upper arm and injured hand – you are not allowed to forget above all the last thing, when you beat up a shitface, you children at home: always aim for the weakpoints – an uppercut at his chin finishes him off.

Arms engulf my body and I realize that 2 and 3 have stood up again, perhaps 5 as well – damn it, that I haven't seen that coming! I haven't drunk enough obviously! Number 2…or 3 or 5, they all look the same…charges me again, while his colleague behind me keeps my arms at bay. I swing my head forward in the moment, where the fist should have smashed my beautiful face – which is why it hits the guy behind me, who let's me go.

Quickly I hit the chin of the guy in the front with my head, grab his vest and spin him around, which is why he hits the guy behind me perfectly. But instead of letting him go, I start to improve his face now – two till four punches are enough often, so that your opponent doesn't forget you so quickly, lovely children.

Then the guy behind me gets up again and wants to punch, but I use the victim in my hands as shield – for what are they good anyway? He moans and my boot hits his stomach, which is why he throws his former backer along with himself – this time the two stop moving on the ground.

I twirl around, ready to finish off the next opponent – but there is none. Number 1 is still lying, number 2 and 3 are lying together and moan loudly – and the head of the one is on the lap of the other, ha ha ha ha! – number 4 is still lying at the pillar and number 5 is still kneeling, holding his privates – pussy!

I realize quickly that the battle is over – no! That can't be! It started to make fun right now, the battle can't be over already!

"You damn bastard!", I hear a yell from the other half of the bar – the intact half. The fat and angry host is moving towards me with a racket – I rub my hands with anticipation, victim number 6!

"You destroyed my bar!", he yells at me. I cast a glance across the battlefield and can't stop myself to correct the person facing me: "Wrong, I have destroyed only half of your bar."

He becomes angrier obviously – YES! – and swings his racket, when another man appears out of the crowd of the frightened guests – NO! The man wears a long, deep-blue coat and a fitting hood on his head. At the end of his blue-red sleeve a leather glove is found on the hand, which stops the racket of the host.

I can't see the face of the spoilsport, but I am not happy.

"I believe we can find another solution for that here.", Hood starts talking with a smug voice – he sounds like a dwarf or boy!

"Don't intervene, or…!", the host wants to threaten him, when the stranger holds a purse full with money in front of him, allowing the Livres to tinkle instantly and the racket is lowered.

Without flinching the host grabs the purse and hides it in his vest. Still he casts a hateful glance towards me, before growling at the stranger: "But the guy leaves this place, now!"

When you believe, I toe the line, then…

"Of course, he will.", Hood answers and turns around to me. Under his hood his bearded, but still young face is seen, as well like his whole getup, reminding on a rich aristocrat – when he isn't connected to the government in some way, I'll eat a hat.

He moves towards me, while I cross my arms. "That I want to see, how you force me out of this place.", I tell him with fitting arrogant smile.

Before I make a slip, he has grabbed my beard, has pulled my head down – this guy is stronger than he looks – and has thrown me with a knee-kick against the door of the bar – which is found behind me, by accident. Before I can react, he kicks me out of the bar completely.

(Here you can switch the music off. ;-) )

I land on the drenched and with shit stinking streets of Paris, while Hood walks out of the bar comfortably, closing the door even. The moon shines at the sky, while I get on my feet, in battle posture and a grin on my face. "Ah, that's how it is. I thought the host would be my victim number 6 of today's evening, but apparently I was wrong. I hope you will take this place there for…not that I will leave it up to your choice."

"When you mean.", Hood explains and smiles arrogantly, "But when I should become your sixth victim, you will need to catch me first."

"What you mean with tha-!?", I want to reply, when he has turned around already and ran down the street in front of me.

"You damn…!", I yell still, when I start chasing him – I hate running!

Hood is quick – too quick! – and barely an object on the street is an obstacle for him. Even the few people, who are found on the streets at this hour of the day, he passes without that they notice something – I need to knock a pair of drunken workers over to chase behind him.

Instead of staying on the street he turns around often, into alleys, tunnels below buildings and of course other streets.

"Fichu…!", I curse breathing loud, while he creates a bigger and bigger distance, "…you damn weasel!" He turns into another alley and I behind him – only to stop abruptly, when a high wooden fence appears. I hit the door in the middle almost and my nose touches the wood already.

Quickly I grab the doorknob of the wall – locked! I pull at it – "Open you damn piece of shit! – but the door moves no bit – "How the hell he passed this spot?!"

I go few steps back and look around: nowhere something to help you jump across the wall and it is too high. So he needs to…

"And now you're dead.", I hear his smug voice, while a silver blade is put at my neck… … …

So next chapter online :-)

Little explanation: I can't speak French, so all French words you find are searched online ;-) Here the translation follows now:

Femmelette = sissy, pansy

Fichu! = Damn it!

I hope you liked this chapter, want to review it and stay tuned till next time :-)