The hot summer sun had turned the attic into a sweltering, mouldy oven. Outside the window, the skyline of Doessenhof sprawled into the distance. Doessenhof wasn't a pretty city, or a nice one. Its few high towers were thin and at parts even crooked. The stones weren't fused together most of the time, sometimes, a tower needed supporting struts from the ground or another tower. They reached for the sky like the fingers of the damned, away from the stink of the hell that was the deeper levels. Without a university and only one, noble family left, barely any talented and capable mages lived in the city, and the few that did could not muster the resources to properly fix anything. The city was so overrun by corruption that not even the street sweepers could do their job without paying protection money to three different gangs. Everyone was either a conman or a conned, and the luckiest were able to leave the city just as poor as they left it and without injury, most commonly, down the mighty river Daune, towards richer cities that had to deal with both the human and faecal scum the river carried to them.
In such a city, a single talented mage could take over the under- and over-world without much effort, as soon as they got rid of the many warring gangs. And exactly that was currently happening. A man who had named himself "the great Pachullionarezettelidas" had appeared out of nowhere and built up his own gang of "apprentices" fashioning himself as a one-man-university. Most of these people had been conned however, in true Doessenhof style. And so, the gang lords – and maybe the mage's alma mater too – had gotten together to pay a specialist for getting rid of the man that had interrupted their back-stabbing and garrotting. This specialist was Garrett, or, how he was known when working, the Purple Paw of Halonnes. He had not chosen this call sign and he didn't consider it ridiculous, for there was a reason for each part. It was an honour to carry such a call sign.
Garrett was sitting in the attic, the sweltering, mouldy oven. He had picked this tower as his launch point based on his scouting from the days before and was going through his plan. The great Pachu, how he had decided to refer to the man with a rockslide for a name, was sitting on top of one of the towers outside. He had a sort of audience chamber in lofty heights. Garrett reviewed his sketch of the positions of towers and where best to jump to.
He knew there was a blind spot that he could cling to and climb all the way to the unfinished roof without being seen from the inside. It would place him somewhat behind the place where Pachu sat and opposite of the guards protecting the entrance. He tore five Constrictors, two Metal Storms, and two Explosions from his palm book.
He also knew that Pachu was most likely a graduate from a proper university. He had spied from a different position and could not recognize Pachu's robes. They were not covered in fake adornments like the charlatan from yesterday, but the cut and colours were unusual. It could well be he chose to not wear his alma mater's colours or, he didn't have one to begin with. Without that Garrett didn't know what kind of weavings to expect. He tore off an Arcane Lens. He also didn't know anything of his two "Ministers" who could well be casters or just better educated thugs. He went in mostly blind. But he knew he was very high up and everyone in that room had violent tendencies. He tore off two Feather Falls. Then he also tore off two Fuses and an Envelopment. Now he had everything he'd need. He checked his throwing knives; he preferred the ones with the double-edged blade and the cord wrapped around the shank. The shank was shaped into a ring at the end, big enough to put a finger through, which allowed him to pull and spin them quickly as well as some non-combat applications. He had eight. One each under bracers and shin guards, two each in sheathes on his upper hips, where his hands naturally rested. He checked his parry dagger. Its blade was long and thin with a strong central ridge, perfect for piercing armour. The cross guards were bent upwards, allowing him to catch a blade and twist it out of his opponent's hands. And the pommel was replaced with a small crystal glass ball, just like on a mage's staff. Which allowed a wielder with an Arcane Hand to "store" a single weaving in there for repeated used, as long as they held a sort of basic tension concentration in their minds. He put it back in its sheath on the right side of his waist. Below that hung a small flask with a greenish liquid, he would need it soon, then he checked his oil flask on his left hip and put the ring on his left ring finger, establishing skin contact with the flux. It wasn't strictly necessary for someone with an Arcane Hand, but using it made things easier and faster. Critical things for someone in his "working conditions". Lastly, he made sure he had his most important tool of the day: the head cage, a headgear made from wrought iron bands, designed to fit and be locked over a person's head. Wearing anything made of worked metal over the entire head made use of the Arcane Hand impossible. Such a device was most important when dealing with casters.
He got up, put all the pieces of paper under his belt and climbed out of the window. The wind today was weak and the sky was a bit cloudy. Ideal conditions to jump between towers. He stood on the roof and inhaled. His target was a small stone ledge. He wouldn't be able to cling to the wall just by his hands, so he took the small flask from his right side and poured the green liquid over his hands. It quickly turned slimy and incredibly sticky. He cast the first Feather Fall on himself, then he ran towards the edge and jumped off. His forward momentum carried him across the gap while the Feather Fall slowed his downward acceleration. He landed on the ledge on the other side and slapped his hands against the wall. The stickiness would soon fade and turn into dry brittleness. He assumed to be directly behind Pachu. He slapped the Envelopment and the two Fuses on the wall and cast them, then quickly, with sticky hands and his feet seeking foothold on every stone, he climbed upwards. He reached the unfinished portion of roof and heaved himself up. He must be directly above Pachu right now. He waited a few moments for the sticky goo to dry and rubbed it off, then he got closer to the edge to risk a peek. The two guards didn't see him. They were holding halberds and wore chainmail armour with long sleeves as well as hard leather helmets. An additional person was just talking to Pachu with a favour to ask, something about guards for his shop because the other crime lords were trying to take their territory back. Garrett took two Constrictors and prepared. He inched closer to the edge, held out the two Constrictors and cast them at the two guards in quick succession. They fell to the floor, bound and gagged. He heard the immediate reaction from the other people in the room.
Garrett jumped down and turned to face Pachu. He stood there, with his green and black robes with red stripes, holding his staff made of wood with a clear crystal ball at the top and seven iron rings engraved with glyphs around the shaft. Seven were a lot. If he was a graduate it hadn't been recently. His two ministers looked far less noble in their regular street clothes. The person having an audience had already fled out the door.
He drew his dagger and started to weave an Invisible Fist. Pachu had already reacted and made a movement to hurl something his way. With a "FULMINA!", a lightning bolt struck and scorched the ground where Garrett had just been. He tried to weave the Invisible Fist another time and managed to load it into the dagger's crystal ball. He had to get rid of the guards and the other two before the Fuse ended.
"Who the taff are you?" asked Pachu.
Garrett didn't wait and fired his Invisible Fists in Pachu's direction, but Pachu noticed and deflected them with his own kinetic spells. The ministers had started to charge Garrett with swords in hand. He took evaded backwards, bringing distance between him and them, trying to dodge Pachu's Fulminas. He reached for two more Constrictors, cast them, and the thugs fell to his feet. Finally, he had a breather, but he had to let go of the Invisible Fist in his own crystal ball.
"I disabled your pathetic henchmen, Pachu, give up, maybe you can make a deal with whoever wants your head."
Pachu's made a snarling face and bellowed at him "First, it's Pachullionarezettelidas, not Pachu! Second, taff you!"
"I don't have time for your posturing, do you think I have time for your made-up name?"
Pachu hurled another Fulmina. Garrett managed to evade again, but couldn't close the gap. He decided to look deeper into this guy's spells. He plucked the Arcane Lens. He held it up and cast it with a look at Pachu. The next time he cast his Fulmina he could see the faint weavings he projected from his staff's crystal ball. It wasn't a too complicated one, but definitely how they taught it at the universities.
Pachu began his posturing again. "Whoever they are, they should have spent some more coin, because you seem to be barely a threat!" When he flung the next Fulmina, Garret was prepared, he had already loaded an appropriate counter into his own crystal ball. When Pachu's weaving was projected, he managed to destroy it at the key point, like glass fracturing at a weak point. Sparks and tendrils of energy flared up for a moment as the flux Pachu had poured into his spell broke out of the damaged weaving. Confused and angry, Pachu stumbled backwards, closer to the wall. Garrett didn't give him a chance to recover and flung Invisible Fists to Pachu's left and right. Pulverized stone and shards confused him even more. With his back against the wall and dust in his eyes, he did not notice the stones of the wall coming forward, enveloping him in a stone prison. The Fuse had finally ended.
Garrett stepped up to the heap of stones that contained Pachu. "See, this is what happens when you only use one spell and talk too much." He untied the metal cage from his belt in preparation to put it on Pachu's head as soon as he freed him from the stones.
Deep from within the stones he could her Pachu's voice. "You know, Doessenhof has been ruled by these imbeciles crowning themselves crime lords for decades."
"I know, I grew up here."
"Then you should know how these taffheads made everything really, really bad for us."
"And you thought just adding another crime lord would fix the problem? Boy let me tell you, your kind NEVER makes it any easier. Bunch of delusional saviours on a power-trip."
Pachu didn't answer.
"I met your imbeciles of henchmen. With these, you won't be able to rule a single building properly, Doessenhof is just not a very good city. Uneducated, poor, hopeless, corrupt. I've seen many cities and many mages trying to rule these cities by themselves. You're no different than any-" His speech was cut short by the sound of scraping metal behind him.
Garrett, in his nostalgia, forgot the Constrictors would wear off soon. The guards were still tired from struggling against the spell, but they were standing again. Quickly Garrett took the swords of the two ministers and tossed them over the wall, downwards to the streets,as a precaution for when they would come out of their binds soon.
"Okay listen up, idiots. I got your great taffer in a block of stones over here, so you better drop your weapons or drop dead. I give everyone only one chance to get out alive."
They were not cooperating and instead charged him with their halberds.
Garrett drew one of his Metal Storms and one throwing knife, held it in front of him at outstretched arm and cast it. A glowing circle appeared in the air in front him. He took a step back and threw the knife through it. As it passed through the circle, many more exited alongside the original, casting a wall of knives upon the charging guards. One was hit with three and fell over dead instantly, the other with five, but took some time to bleed out. A moment later, the mirrored knives disappeared again. The ministers, who had seen this, decided to just leg it and ran out the door.
Garret was content with the development so far. He turned around to check up on Pachu. His stone Envelopment was still holding up. It was lasting rather long, but Garrett did make sure to invest some extra flux into it, so he waited a bit more. He was getting impatient. The Envelopment shouldn't last this long.
Then it dawned on him. Pachu was holding onto the stones from the inside. That's why they were still holding together. Garrett quickly took a few steps backward. He had given Pachu valuable time to prepare a counter offensive. He quickly went through his palm book and found what he was looking for. He tore out a Wall Formation and cast it immediately. The floor boards bent upwards to form a wall between him and Pachu.
With a sudden burst, the stone prison exploded outwards, sending stones flying every direction. Quite a few of them hit the wooden wall and send splinters flying off the other side. Garrett had already ducked in cover. He leapt around the wall and cast one of the Explosions he had prepared at Pachu, who didn't even need to do anything as it exploded mostly harmlessly on the outer shell of a protective spell shield.
Pachu was still standing, having barely moved from the place where he had stood even before Garrett had entered the scene. "You little shit are starting to really piss me off. Taste my wrath." Pachu screamed like a bad stage actor.
Garrett had no intention of doing any such thing. He dodged back behind the wooden wall, took a deep breath and loaded a Projectile spell into his dagger. Holding the dagger's crystal pommel in front of his eyes, he looked at a loose stone laying on the floor, it floated about two paces above the floor. Garrett ran across the room and pointed pommel and gaze at Pachu. The stone projectile instantly flew at Pachu with enough force to punch through the stone wall. Pachu dodged, the projectile going through the spell shield without hinderance, flying out the hole in the wall and probably ruining someone's day. Now Garrett knew it had to be a logic shield, forcing any spell to detonate or take effect at the shell, not its target on the inside. He took another knife and threw it at Pachu while he was still recovering from his dodge. He hit him in the leg. Pachu groaned in pain.
"I will not go easy on you!" Was all Pachu could say before Garrett charged him head on. Pachu leapt towards the hole in the floor left by the Wall Formation, Garrett pointed at another stone and send it Pachu's way, but he had already disappeared down into the lower room. Garrett wanted to jump after him, but decided against it. He flipped through his palm book and found a Fog Cloak. He tore it out and cast it. Fog emanated from his person, quickly spreading the room and flowing down into the lower floor.
Pachu had managed to escape the assassin barely, but still got hit. His leg hurt like hell and he wanted to pull the knife out but that would open the wound even more. He didn't have long until the assassin would come after him. The moment the fog entered the room, Pachu hurled several Fulminas in quick succession. Then, as he saw the cloaked figure charge him, he cast a fiery ball of death at it. The cloak went up in flames. Heat and smoke filled the room and blew through Pachu's hair. When he dared to open his eyes again, nothing was left, not even a charred corpse where a charred corpse should have been.
Garrett had entered the room only after the fog emanating from his person had already gone down there. After the Fulminas stopped, he jumped down, took off his cloak and with his Projectile spell, shot it towards where he assumed Pachu to be. Then he darted to the side.
Drawing a long trail of fog behind him, he ran along the outer wall of the room and towards Pachu, who only realized too late that he had been duped. Garrett held up his second Metal Storm with his left arm, while throwing a knife with the right.
Seven knives hit the mage. They missed his head, but in excruciating pain, Pachu was unable to cast properly either way. "Fuck you, you little shit!" he spoke while spitting out blood.
"I told you that I gave everyone just one chance to get out alive."
"All you do is extend the life of corruption in this city."
"I know. I don't care. It's not really different anywhere else either, you're just another failure with visions of justified grandeur." Garrett said. Then he slit the mages throat and took off his head. He looked for a University sigil on his hand and found it. He had been from the university of Pelateille, not a bad place to learn, he could have made it as a proper member of society but apparently, he decided to take over the criminal underworld of his home town. With his curiosity satisfied, he bagged the head, retrieved his knives and the head cage. Then he cast the second Feather Fall, jumped off the tower and landed safely on the ground. He headed back to Tara to collect his reward and get more work. This city was still in dire need of proper clean-up jobs. And he had to find a present for the girl.