The Greatest Challenge

Chapter 1: Drinks and Fights

The din of Prontera's marketplace was deafening as usual, with shouts from street venders coming from every street corner.

A man with a dark brown cloak wrapped around his face, slowly walked through the raucous atmosphere of the city, his worn Sakkat hat casting a shadow over his eyes. His lithe body and calm demeaour gave him away as an Assassin instantly. Most people were wise enough to give these men and women a wide berth, but one man was too busy escaping the local authorities to notice the dangerous man was directly in his path.

"Get back here!" Came a cry from behind the fleeing man.

"Not a chance old man! This bread isn't going anywhere but-" The man collided with the Assassin in mid-sentence. The Assassin didn't budge, just stood on the spot where he was struck by the would-be-thief. He slowly tilted his head to get a good look at man, who was now quivering on the floor, his eyes opened wide and full of fear.

"P-p-please, don't hurt me, here take this, just don't hurt me, please!" The man thrust the stolen loaf of bread toward the Assassin, his hand quivering in absolute fear. The Assassin stared at the man for a few more seconds, what felt like an eternity to the man, before hitting the loaf out of his hand. The loaf rolled across the floor, and landed at the feet of a guard, who had stopped pursuing the thief to see what became of his meeting with the Assassin.

"Oh, please spare me..." The man began to mouth a silent prayer to whichever god he worshipped.

"Your life is spared, for today. Be careful where you step next time." The Assassin pushed the brim of his hat upwards and he walked past the man without even glancing at him. The small crowd that had gathered around slowly dispersed, and many jumped out of the way of the Assassin as he glided through the crowd.

"All right you, on your feet!" The spectating guard now had hold of the amateur-thief's arm, and began to drag him towards to city-jailhouse.

"Better staying in a cell for a night than on the recieving end of a Katar..." The man uttered, as he was ushered away by the guard.

"I have to agree with you there," The guard retorted, "Now shut up."

Farther into Prontera, into the darker side of things, where deals are made that shouldn't be made, where bets are made on sinister games.

Two men sat at a table in a sleazy pub, the Unholy Blade, the door was covered in stains and holes, mostly from dagger or sword strikes.

"So how was your journey?" One of the men asked.

"Oh the usual, wet, cold, painful, just the way I like it." Jassur took a sip from his glass, his eyebrows creased as he tasted the bitter liquid.

"I see you've noticed the wonderful flavour of the ale. Skitch is having trouble finding good brewers nowadays, the King has men running around all over the place, shutting down all kinds of establishments, including Skitch's favourite beweries." The man sipped from his glass, showing no reaction to the taste.

"I see you're used to the new flavour, how long has this been going on?" Jassur studied the man, it had been a long time since he had seen his old partner-in-crime. A newly acquired scar ran along his left cheek down to his chin, straight through his clean shaven face. His dark brown eyes hid a secret, Jassur could tell, but the man was good at hiding these things.

"Around six months, maybe more, the King held a public gathering outside of the palace, and declared his new laws, including cutting down on tax evaders," The man stopped to take a small sip from his ale, "Which as you can guess, is bad news for people like us, Skitch included." The man shook his head slightly as he finished his sentence.

"One thing before we go on, how did you get that scar Gil? It wasn't there when I left for-" Jassur was interrupted by a loud shout.

"Don't you lie to me you cheatin' bastard! I saw you switch those cards!" The outraged man clutched five crumpled cards in his right hand, his knuckles white, showing off his uncontrolled, more than likely drunken, rage.

"Oh come on Jack, all these years we've played cards together, why would I start cheatin' you now?" Retorted a man, sat in his chair, seemingly nonchalant about the whole thing.

"Stop actin' so cool about your cheatin'!" The man shouted, before swinging his club of a fist at the man's face. The man tilted his chair back to avoid the punch, but overbalanced and fell backwards to the floor. The man named Jack threw the table out of the way, and began to stride towards the shocked man.

"Stop right there Jack," Came a gruff voice from behind the bar. The landlord, known as Skitch, had a loaded crossbow aimed at Jack. "This better be taken outside right now, or at least one of you will end up with his liver stuck to the wall."

"All right Jack, all right, we'll take it outside." Jack blurted, with his hands raised in front of him as a sign of surrender.

"Then move!" Skitch shouted. This was enough for Jack, who jumped over the fallen table and burst through the door.

"And you." Skitch said, aiming his crossbow at the man on the floor.

"Sure thing Skitch, sure thing." The man slowly got up and made his way to, and out of, the door. Jassur laughed quietly and shook his head as the drama ended.

"I see things haven't changed that much around here, that's one good sign." Jassur smiled as he finished his sentence.

"That they haven't, but the King seems to be curious about something Jassur, and it all started after you left on your little trip. I don't suppose you would happen to know anything?" Gil asked, tilting his head forwards slightly, trying to act casual. Jassur laughed.

"You never were very good at acting inconspicuous Gil, I'm not telling you anything before you tell me how you got that scar." Jassur leaned back in his chair, taking a long swig of his ale.

"Fine, fine. I was in Morroc, making a small deal with the usual people," Jassur nodded in aknowledgement, "When all of a sudden, it turned sour. They flipped out, started accusing me of cheating them, something about less money than usual. Of course I denied it all, we've always had an understanding with the Ro-" Gil stopped himself, "With them," He took a sip of his drink, "So, after I start denying it all, one of my guys was shot straight through the heart with an arrow, only the gods know where it came from, but naturally, we retaliated, two of my guys were killed, only one of theirs," Gil shook his head, obviously frustrated by the event, "I just don't know what's going on Jassur, people are going crazy."

"Whatever the King has caught wind of, his actions are scaring a few people," Jassur finished off his drink with one big swig and stood up. "Well Gil, I have some business to attend to. I'll contact you later." Jassur nodded goodbye to Skitch, who returned the gesture, he patted Gil gently on the shoulder and exited the pub.

Once Jassur stepped outside of the Unholy Blade, the chill hit him hard, he wrapped his cloak about him tightly and began to walk in the direction of the nearest Inn...