"I just have one question before I agree." Said Mhyrra as she poured out another drink for each of them. "Why me?"
"No reason in particular." Farmer downed the goblet before continuing. "I saw the wolf outside and I liked it. My favourite animal is the wolf."
"That hardly seems like an adequate justification when deciding to place a plan of this magnitude into motion. What else is there?" Mhyrra imitated Farmer and drank her goblet in one gulp. Then she poured out another two.
"I don't know. A feeling, an instinct maybe. Mostly it's because the voices in my head are telling me you're a very dangerous individual." Nonchalantly explained Farmer. "Basically, I'm being careless on purpose."
"Why is that?"
"This game is just simply too boring." Waved his hand Farmer. "By actively being careless I'm introducing a wild card or two into play. Maybe then things will be more interesting." He sighed.
Mhyrra looked at him profoundly. She could see that there was no lie in Farmer's words. He truly thought of this entire affair as a game. An uprising that would fill most people's hearts with trepidation was no more than a trifling matter to Farmer.
"I'm dangerous? Don't bullshit me. Compared to you, few things would be as deadly." She whispered to herself. "I have another question."
"Please, ask away."
Pulling out the contents of the leather pouch, Mhyrra revealed the scales of the sea-dragon that Farmer had slaughtered a few months back. "These belong to a class nine level draconic beast. Were you the one who killed it?"
"What do you think?" Farmer smiled mysteriously.
"I think…" She sighed seductively. "I think that it's a pity that I'm ten years older than you, otherwise I'd try my best to win your affections over."
At her words, Farmer rose to his feet holding his goblet and walked around the table. Then he crouched in front of Mhyrra who was looking at him with desire in her eyes. "Technically, I was born long before you were." He said as he began stroking her arm delicately.
Mhyrra shuddered. She couldn't understand the meaning behind Farmer's words but she could see that he had no intention to elaborate on them. Thus, she called the clerk into the office and instructed him to prepare everything that Farmer had asked for. After that, she ordered her two guards to leave the corridor and to not allow anyone to come close until she said otherwise.
Once the door to her office had been locked with a heavy bolting sound, she flung herself into Farmer's arms. Farmer held her tightly against himself and tossed her on top of her desk, pressing himself hard between her legs which wrapped themselves intensely around his waist in response to his movements.
Farmer let his hands caress Mhyrra's splendid curves as his lips trailed across her neck and ended nibbling playfully on her earlobe. Mhyrra moaned excitedly and undressed Farmer's torso, marvelling at his iron-like muscles and many scars. Holding her tightly against him, Farmer undressed her with practiced motions and revealed her perfect figure.
His hands danced over her skin, his fingers delicately moving about her surface until they found themselves converging on her voluptuous breasts. Grabbing at them, Farmer let his desire take over him as he leaned in and kissed Mhyrra with wild fervour. Then he let his right hand slowly make its way to the paradise between Mhyrra's legs.
Mhyrra jolted when she felt Farmer's hand teasing her womanhood. His fingers skilfully able to bring her body to peaks she had never experienced before. Before she knew it, she was already losing her mind under the waves of pleasure beneath Farmer's strong frame.
For a few hours, passionate screams and moans of delight could be heard coming from Mhyrra's office. From time to time, a loud banging and a groan of exertion echoed through the halls. For those unlucky enough to overhear this, there was no doubt in their mind of the events taking place between Farmer and Mhyrra. A few of these men couldn't help but to lower their heads in shame, for they had never been able to make a woman react like that; not even the most prolific of courtesans.
It was the afternoon when Farmer and Mhyrra stopped their mad frolicking. Farmer was sitting on a chair with a half-empty bottle of expensive wine in his hand and Mhyrra on his lap. She had her arms wrapped around his neck, holding on as best as she could because she couldn't feel her legs any longer.
"I think you should reimburse me for the damages." She said with difficulty and with a teasing smile on her face.
Looking around cheekily, Farmer chuckled at the toppled desk and broken glass cases. They had been all over the office during their heated encounter; so much so, that there wasn't a single surface in there where they hadn't been on.
"I'm afraid that I'm just a poor pirate. But maybe we can come to an agreement of sorts?" He said as he grabbed her arse tightly.
"Oh? What do you have in mind?" Mhyrra leaned in and let her lips dangle an inch in front of his.
"One third of the proceeds of the auction." He replied seriously.
Upon hearing his words, Mhyrra pulled herself away and stared into Farmer's violet eyes with mixed emotions in her heart. On the one hand, one third of the total coin earned during an auction wherein parts of a class nine draconic beast were put on sale was a fortune she would never again be able to even dream about. On the other, she had hoped that she would be able to become Farmer's woman.
A man that could so easily fork out the corpse of a draconic beast comparable in power to an arch-sorcerer was the most desirable companion; in addition, he was incredibly handsome, wild, and intelligent to boot. However, it seemed that fate had not been smiling on her and that Farmer didn't have such feelings towards her.
Nonetheless, she quickly agreed to Farmer's terms. She didn't even try to negotiate for a larger share. One third alone was far more than what was standard. In fact, if Farmer insisted on taking all the winnings she would have no choice but to oblige, lest he decide to take his business elsewhere; or do something worse…
Gently pushing Mhyrra off his lap, Farmer began dressing. "There's something else I need your help with."
"Pray tell, what is it?"
"I need to know who controls the alleys at night in this city. Who's in charge of the underworld?" He asked.
Mhyrra didn't have to think too hard to understand Farmer's intentions. Furthermore, the notion made the respect she felt for him to raise another notch. Smiling bitterly to herself, she couldn't help but to ask something that was bugging her. "I don't understand. Why go to all this trouble? Clearly, you could just storm the city lord's mansion and end things in an hour or two."
"I don't know how strong Nightsky's forces are." He replied nonchalantly. However, a shadow crossed his eyes imperceptibly.
"He's not at a level you should worry about. He's only a seventh-dimension sorcerer. Right now, as my informants tell me, he's currently in closed door cultivation trying to enter the ranks of the eighth-dimension. By playing this game of yours, you're at risk of paying the price for arrogance." She warned him with tenderness in her voice.
The price of arrogance? Thought Farmer sharply. He knew the price of arrogance far too well. His pride had long caused him to lose everything. His master, his love, his family, his friends…
Plus, it had caused him to be cursed.
Since that fatidic day, his power had been restrained. Whenever his foot touched land, his energy centre would suffer from a blockage and his output of arcane energy would be halved; leaving him with strength equivalent to the seventh-dimension. In addition, he would not be able to cultivate while on land. The energy of the Heavens and Earth was far thinner out at sea; thus, he was also cursed to have to work thrice as hard as anyone else to break through to higher realms.
"I told you, this is a game. What's a game without a little risk?" Lied Farmer with a smile that wasn't a smile on his face. He couldn't tell her the truth about his situation. Of his crew, only Lampa was aware of it; and that was because of an unfortunate accidental reveal. Plus, he wasn't entirely lying; he was playing around.
Mhyrra grunted to herself, crossed an arm over her chest, and produced a pipe from Naosh knows where. Lighting it up with a flick of her fingers, she took a few tokes of it and wondered how she should respond.
Finally, she made up her mind. "Head over to the harbour district. There's a place there, it's called the Moonlight Pavillion. It's a whorehouse, gambling den, and a bar. That's where you'll find who you're looking for."
"How will I know him?"
"Just play your game." She replied snidely. "Don't want things to be too easy, don't you?"
Farmer smiled mysteriously at her words. How could he not know that Mhyrra was still bitter at his attitude?
Finishing with his clothes, Farmer walked up to the still naked Mhyrra, grabbed her pipe, and took in a few breaths of smoke. Before Mhyrra could complain at his brazen gesture, he reached out and grabbed her by the neck with his right hand. He then placed his left hand between her legs, inserting two fingers inside her as he did so. Farmer pulled her up in a manner that her legs dangled in the air; her only support, the pressure of rapidly moving fingers within her.
Mhyrra's eyes widened in pleasure. She had thought that there was no more carnal desire left within her, but Farmer's furious motion had opened up the floodgates. She wanted to cry out in mad glee, yet the hand around her neck tightened and she couldn't even breathe.
Moving in to lick Mhyrra's lips, Farmer smiled. "Thank you very much. To show you my appreciation, I'll come back as soon as my business is concluded." When he finished, he placed her back in the chair and turned to leave.
Mhyrra wanted to call out to him but the sight of his parting back somehow intimidated her into silence. Placing a hand on her neck, she couldn't help but think back at his feral, almost desperate, sexual mannerisms. Just what had happened to him in the past for his behaviour to be like that?
--
Farmer stood in front of his destination. The Moonlight Pavilion was a large, five storeys high, building. However, it was nowhere near as nice as the Little Garden. The walls needed repainting, several balustrades were broken, and the windows were covered with wooden planks.
The sight of this place made Farmer question momentarily whether he'd been lied to by Mhyrra. However, the thought was quickly rejected. She had as much to benefit from lying to him as sleeping with a mountain troll. Thus, he made his way into the building.
Inside, decorations were flamboyant and gold. Dozens of people, both clients and scantily clad waitresses, wove around tables where all sorts of gambling took place. Many people drank themselves to oblivion at a bar to one side and others tried the best to negotiate a better price with a waitress to follow them upstairs. A large musical instrument was being played by a bard who sang merrily, to the delight of the establishment's clientele.
An array must have been set up around the perimeter, thought Farmer, because the music and the shouting didn't escape the confines of this place. Farmer was impressed. He had definitely come to the right place.
"Oh, my, I have never seen you here before." Suddenly spoke up someone to his side. "Such a handsome man… How can I service you this fine afternoon?"
Farmer turned and saw a beautiful brunette waitress eyeing him alluringly. She had bright green eyes that shone with glorious splendour. With just one look, Farmer could tell that she was experienced enough to see he wasn't a normal patron. This would work to his advantage.
"My dear, I was told that this is the place to come to if one is looking for fun and excitement." He said as he wrapped his arm over her shoulder and slid a few gold coins into her hand.
"You were told rightly." She smiled at him knowingly. "Who, pray tell, is that friend of yours? The establishment would want to reward him."
"Let's just say he's someone who shouldn't be seen coming here." Lied Farmer as he slid a few extra coins into the girl's hand. "Enough about that. Take me to the table where the largest amount of coin is being wagered, preferably the one with the clients that one shouldn't anger, and keep bringing me bottles of ale. Oh, and what's your name?"
"Right this way, fine sir." The waitress understood that Farmer was there with ulterior motives. However, she also understood that he wasn't the type to cause trouble without reason; he didn't have that kind of eyes. In addition, there were rumours floating around about a strong red-haired, violet-eyed, pirate and she was interested in him. "My name is Triss."
"Triss, what a nice name." Whispered Farmer to himself as he was led through to a large azure table where ten men sat down playing cards. "Good afternoon, everyone! Allow me to join you!"
Farmer changed his demeanour and acted like a drunk brigand as he clumsily pulled a chair and pushed himself in between a burly man in his thirties and a scholarly-looking grey-haired individual.
"We would be delighted to welcome you." Said the scholar with a sly smile on his face. "However, buy in is at one hundred gold coins. I'm sure you, junior brother, don't want to place such a large wager easily." He snickered.
"One hundred gold coins?" Replied Farmer in shock. "That's just too little!" To everyone's astonishment, Farmer casually tossed a large pouch brimming with gold coins; therein there must have been at least a few hundred. One must know that each gold coin was worth one hundred silver coins and these, in turn, were equivalent to one hundred bronze coins. The average household income would only be of a few silver coins annually. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that the wealth Farmer had just produced could easily buy him a small village.
"There!" He slurred. "That should be enough to play."
"Good junior brother, I didn't catch your name." The scholar-like man's curiosity had peaked. He wanted to know who Farmer was to possess such a sum of coin and, more importantly, his background. If he was someone important then matters would end there and then. If, however, Farmer wasn't, then he and his companions at the table would fleece Farmer from all his fortune.
"This one is just a wandering poet. My name isn't important." Lied Farmer, fully aware of the thoughts going through the scholar's mind. "I recently met with good fortune and came across this money. The gods demand that one invests fortune into a good life experience, thus I hurried here!" He narrated as if he was drunk.
Eyeing each other discreetly, the ten or so people at the table communicated using secret gestures and agreed to let Farmer join them with the intention of cheating him off everything down to his undergarments.
"Well said, good poet." Righteously nodded the scholar. "This one is called Philliam. Please, join us. However, I must insist that we toast to this fateful encounter." Philliam then gestured to someone at the bar who hurried over with a strange bottle in hand and quickly presented it to Farmer. "This fine beverage is a rare mix of herbs and carefully treated barley. Its taste is truly extraordinary. Please, take it as a gift from me." He smiled.
Farmer took off the top of the bottle with one finger and sniffed at its contents. Indeed, it was as Philliam said, however, he could also detect a hint of some numbing poison hidden within the fragrant wine. It took every ounce of his concentration to not burst out laughing. This Philliam was a fool if he thought that such a simple trick would work against him!
Casually glancing at everyone's expectant gazes as if he couldn't tell that something was wrong, Farmer nodded pleasurably and muttered "Good wine!" in a low voice. Then he brought the bottle to his lips and proceeded to down the bottle's contents in just a few breaths.
"My good Philliam. This wine is… is indeed something else!" He said as if he was completely intoxicated.
"Indeed, it is." Pleasantly replied the scholar, pleased that Farmer had drank everything. Although he was a little bit surprised at the fact that he'd downed the entire bottle without passing out, he was certain that no one could remain sane after taking the drug.
Little did he know that Farmer's body was capable of resisting a class nine sea-dragon's venom. How could a little drug like this hope to harm Farmer in the slightest. In fact, even the alcohol had little to no effect on him. As such, Farmer readied himself to make these random fools pay the price of arrogance. The arrogance of thinking he was an easy opponent.