Welcome friends, to the second chapter of some really badly written story that I have finally updated … after nearly three weeks.
The answer to the last question is… Sherlock Holmes: Ash's tactical planning of his barrage of epicness was inspired by Sherlock's combat form.
I would like to say thank you to: Deathcore 2017 for 1: having a cool name and 2: Showing me sympathy in my hour of need. Also Freddycoops for giving me a review that really showed up all the faults and so it may not all be answered in this fanfiction but soon…
So (impersonates bane) Let the games begin.
Disclaimer: If you sue me as I will write a strongly worded letter to somebody to say 'please don't be mean to people who only 32 people round the globe know exists on Fanfiction (2 of which I personally know.)
King Cyrus stands in the court awaiting in hope of the approaching dust cloud. His family stand behind him, his hand on the hilt of a gem studded broad sword, his face showed a strong and wise gaze. "I don't like awkward sciences."
Atop the barbican
"Sir!"
"Yes, soldier." Sgt Frank Perryman replied with the most impressive patience ever.
"Should I blow it up?" Pvt Michael Bay.
"No, private"
"Are you sure."
"Pvt, I will punch you in the privates if you keep talking!" Another voice of one of the 20 in the platoon on guard yells.
In the court
A shadow slips past the gate under the distraction of the approaching tower of upchucked dust and the small scale fight on the barbican. It moves quickly and silently, to the untrained eye it would seem to be an illusion or a trick of the light yet it was neither. This was a person.
This shadow slips past the portcullis as a single guard turns around to get a drink, allowing for a narrow opening on the courtyard perimeter.
He now confidently walks out of the shadows right in front of the king and his family. "I heard you want a job done?" He glares an intimidating look at the trio of monarchy, calculating how to effectively escape if said job was merely the worm on the hook or as normal people fraise it 'bait'.
"Yes," The king declares with a confident tone of voice.
"Hmm, you're confident." He said with a slight slur in his voice.
"And you're drunk." Dawn mutters as she stars at this man.
"Was." He replies with irritation at this, in his opinion, nasty little person who couldn't keep their mouth shut. "I had a little too much booze before coming here."
A pikachu crawls up onto his shoulder and tugs at his ear. "Here you go." He sighs as he passes a glass vial filled with some kind of red sticky liquid. The pikachu squeals in delight ruining his intimidating image before scampering away.
"Okay, how much do I get, how do I kill it and how many do I kill."
"I'm not sure what you mean." The king replies.
He face-palms "The job…" He rubs his forehead. "Stupid Hangover" He muttered quietly. "… Is usually to kill a big, big pokemon, or kill... a member of nobility." He added the last four words with a menacing tone.
"Well." The king looks awkwardly at him as he waved a hand telling his wife and daughter to leave the area.
"I need a bodyguard for my daughter." King Cyrus says in a lowered voice.
The Mercenary snaps to attention. "I'm sorry what?"
"Bodyguard." The King smiled, knowing this mercenary would probably be good at this. "And how much do you want?"
"Depends on how hard the job Is, how many heads I take and if any equipment is lost or damaged."
"And your base price?"
"It always starts at 10,000 silver Gallets or 1,000 gold Rollums, eithers good with me." He smiled slightly at the King's shocked expression.
"Why is that so cheap?" The King asked as he was amazed the stunningly small price.
"I find that a low price that depending on the job will vary is the best way to go, as people usually ask for hard jobs that have a high headcount and if anybody tries to swindle or change the price, all I do is a little… aggressive negotiation." He smiled as the King gave him a slightly knowing look to show that he knew the cunning little trick: Never show the full price straight up.
"But first I must ask you," The King showed slight concern in his tone. "How good are you at combat? I know many say you're invincible, like a super-human or something."
"I find that exaggeration is a great tool for both business and intimidation, as nobody will double cross a man who allegedly has killed 50 men solo or has decapitated people with a blunt knife simply to set an example of them to the possible employers." He grinned sinisterly.
"You mean you've done none of that stuff?"
"Ok, I had help from some… Friends… Of sorts…" He made signs with his hands as he said the seventh word in the sentence. "And it wasn't that blunt."
The King smiled slightly "you will begin your employment… In five days. All prices are as they stand and you will receive that amount at the end of each month with any bonuses."
"Deal."
Five days later
"Where the hell is he!" Cyrus yelled as he sat on his elegant throne.
In some shabby fighting arena basement of some pub called 'The Nobody Inn'
"You're big." The young mercenary dives out of the way of a colossal muscular arm swished over his head. He glanced at the chanting crowd that stood behind a wooden wall obviously favoring his opponent to win the brawl.
"The bigger they are the harder they fa-" He was cut short in his taunt as an unexpected fist swing struck the side of his head. His vision swam as he tried to avoid falling over, he struck a desperate blow to the kneecap of the current bare fist boxing champion: Crasher Wake.
"You are good, but I'm better." Crasher smiled as he tried to knee Ash in the chest.
"At what?" Ash fired back.
"Everything!"
Ash suddenly dived between his legs and using the ground as a springboard launched his feet into Crashers d &$. He fell to the ground allowing Ash to kick his head into a violent whiplash, the giant fell to the ground with a loud: 'CRUMP!'
Ash smiled and spat out a gob of blood before picking up his tunic and armored combat robes. And then immediately fainted.
2 hours later
Ash lay on the ground a burped slightly as a hand grabbed the side of his head, suddenly he sat bolt upright and pulled his knife up near his grabbers throat.
"Ok, who are you and who employed you to kill me!" Ash yelled it out more like a demand then a question.
"Sir Cynthia Shirona or the royal Sinnoh Elite Tactical Force."
"Oh, sorry about the 18 inch piece of steel I'm currently holding near your gullet."
"Really?"
"No." Ash replied as he tried to open up a bottle of some cheap alcoholic beverage.
Ash drained the bottle and rolled over before getting up and taking a large pile of money from the table nearby.
Cynthia looked baffled. "Why weren't your winnings taken by some lowlife gambler wilts you were unconscious?"
Ash smiled a lopsided smile and cracked his nose painfully back into position. "What can I say, I just beat Crasher Wake in a hand to hand fight, I probably scared them."
"Wait." Cynthia asked "How did he beat you up, after you beat a group of six armed guards."
"Firstly, it was an open ground, fully lit up arena, secondly, I had several advantages that night like surprise and the several large wooden objects lying nearby, thirdly, hitting him was like a brick wall, and I didn't were any of my gloves that stop me breaking my hand when I punch things."
Ash then span on his heel and pulled on his trousers.
Annnnnnnnnnnnnd, done with Ash and his none existent motley crew.
Sorry it took so long but it hopefully won't happen again…
Bad-da-da-da-da-dum-dum-de-dum-do-dum-dum (plays pokemon soundtrack)
What's that film-imon?
Anyway, NightsRise turning off the light.