The noise of the other guests in the bar was so loud that Iskander almost couldn’t hear the music playing in the background. The people here enjoyed being amongst equals and sharing stories about their achievements, others simply danced and were a bit too drunk. The cacophony almost made his ears hurt but yet he knew he should not complain, this bar was actually one of the finer establishments in the shadow quarters of willows creek, the city where the thieves and bandits gathered. If Iskander had another choice he wouldn’t have come here in the first place, this city was dangerous for anyone who entered. If it had not been separated so far from the Frienian kingdom's capital, the army would most likely already have been called upon to cleanse it.

Not that Iskander cared for this place, he was no thief or assassin who needed a gathering place with his colleagues, technically speaking Iskander was not even a criminal, that was if you didn’t count the fact of what he was, but still, he had not done anything that could be considered a crime. Well okay unless you counted that one time he killed a guy, but that was an act of self-defense, it was not like he was going to use that sword to slice bread for him.

Actually, it was really tiring him out, he always had to run from place to place to hide from the bounty hunters and adventurers that kept getting sent after him, it was not easy and he had almost gotten into a fight last time. Iskander didn’t want to fight, his pursuers didn’t know half of what he was capable of and he really did not want to show them!

Suddenly a rumor from the street could be heard above all the noise in the tavern as if crowds in the street were hastily running whilst shouting to others to run too, the conversations in the inn stopped and all people looked at the door, knowing something was coming. Iskander himself however knew what exactly was coming and sighed, “rookies, of course.” A minute later 5 youngsters entered the tavern, one elf and four humans who all looked ready for battle. The elf held a longbow in his hand, and it was clearly an enchanted one, the other humans held a staff, a shield and a mace, a couple of daggers, and the last one held an enchanted sword. All five of them were well equipped, had decent armor, and wore functional clothes as if that would hide the fact that they were clearly not veteran adventurers at all, but some lucky rookies who had managed to get strong fast.

Iskander readied himself, knowing what they were going to do. The swordsman in shiny armor stepped forward, “greetings all of you, I, the famous sword of daylight, and my party are here to capture the infamous wicked warlock, Iskander Orobas, I’ve heard he has taken shelter here.” Iskander sighed, this kid clearly had no idea who he was or in what kind of situation he had gotten himself and his friends into.

Just like he expected the people in the inn were not impressed and started talking again, ignoring the party of adventurers as if they weren’t there. The young swordsmen who had called himself “the sword of daylight” (which Iskander found ridiculous), was clearly surprised by this development and tried to gain back the attention by slamming with his hand on a table, “I am a son of count Gilean, the boy shouted furiously, you peasants have no right to ignore me!”

As soon as Iskander saw this he knew that this boy had said too much, calling the people in this inn “peasants” in his position was suicide. Some of the people in the room looked at the party with hidden bloodthirst like hungry vampires ready to pounce on unsuspecting prey. But the noble swordsboy of daylight was clearly not really perceptive because instead of noticing the changes in the room he went on, “in the name of the king, hand over Iskander now or else….”

“Or else what, a rogue stood up from his table and slowly walked towards the party, just from his way of walking alone Iskander saw that he was a trained assassin, way too skilled for that pushover youngster with the fancy sword to handle. What Iskander knew but the youngsters clearly didn’t was that the thieves and assassins in willows creek were not your average highway robbers, these were professional killers, trained and taught the art of fighting and killing in cold blood since a young age, these guys were not something the adventurers could handle when so many of them were present.

The swordsman was taken aback for a second but still somehow managed to muster the courage or rather arrogance to say, “then I will clean this place up.” The man was not impressed, he smiled and then jumped landing right behind the boy.

The rogue pulled out a dagger and in less than a second he was ready to slit the arrogant boy's throat, the friends of the swordsmen were shocked and were frozen with fear. A rookie mistake of course, standing still in this kind of situation meant that your fate was sealed.

Suddenly Iskander moved, standing up from his table he lifted his hand and while an eldritch glow appeared around his hand the rogue stopped moving as if he was frozen in time, now all eyes were locked on him. The party of adventurers looked at him with a mix of fear and awe but the bandits only stared at him for a second before backing away slowly as if they realized WHO had been sitting in their midst just now.

“Stop harassing the rookies lad, Iskander said with the voice he always used when trying to sound cool, honestly it made him sound like an edgelord adventurer but who cared!

The swordsman stepped away from the frozen rogue and looked at Iskander with eyes filled with terror from the near-death experience he just faced, “who are you?” Iskander grinned and looked around him for a second, the assassins and rogues were trained to see the aura of people and had readied themselves for combat, seeing the menacing eldritch glow of Iskander’s aura. Normally this would mean a fight but not with these guys, these men would not hinder him from dealing with the adventurers as long as he did not openly antagonize them.

“Ah…..I wonder, Iskander said laconic, which warlock would I be?” as soon as he said that the adventurers realized who was standing in front of them, the cleric looked at him with a furious glow in his eyes, the mage and swordsmen paled and the elf, well he took action immediately.

“Iskander !” The elf yelled as he shot an arrow engulfed with light straight at Iskander's face. The warlock however stepped aside so fast that the arrow hit the wall and exploded. It blew a hole in the wall for which people on the street hurried to see what was going on.

“You guys are really fools aren’t you, Iskander said with a rather fiendish tone, you are a bunch of rookies yet you’re acting high and mighty in a tavern where some of the best assassins gather.” He saw the youngsters pale as they looked around them while realizing just in which situation they were and honestly he felt pity for them, If he hadn’t been sitting here they would have been killed by the other customers of the tavern.

“And then something else, Iskander said as he walked slowly towards them, facing a warlock in a closed space is already a bad idea, but in a tavern, I would also have to make a lot of victims just to get rid of you meaning you would be responsible for their deaths.”

Then he turned to the barkeeper and flicked a gold coin towards him, “here that’s for my drinks and the damaged wall, now shall we head out to settle this with a fight?” The cleric with the mace and the shield suddenly lashed out at him shocking his friends as well, “We will crush you, you diabolical sorcerer and your head will be put on a stake next to those of the other demonic warlocks!”

His friends seemingly started to regain some courage and they were already starting to get in a combat formation, the elf and mage behind and the damage dealing members in front. Iskander smiled, “well then, let’s do this!” with a wave of his hand the adventurers and himself suddenly stood outside, before an abandoned church at the edge of willow creek!

“Teleportation, the mage amongst them suddenly realized what they were up against. "This is bad, the information was wrong!” The elf had the same fearful expression on his face, “we need to run, now!” The swordsmen having regained his arrogance was clearly angered, “what are you blabbering about, this is our easiest chance to become A-level adventurers, maybe even S-rank!” The mage and the elf looked at him as if he had gone mad, “teleportation is only usable for someone on magister or wizard level!” The eyes of the swordsmen shot open and it seemed as if it began to dawn on him that he should never have accepted this quest. The cleric however still seemed more than willing to take Iskander's head, “don’t let him scare you, I’ll give you support from the goddess of light and the god of Order himself to cleanse this filth from the world.”

Iskander was not really a big fan of the religions of light and order, they demanded all their followers to listen to what they said while speaking their holy texts in a language only the gods and possibly dragons and demons would understand. They could simply say anything from that book, even if it was contradicting the type of religion they were doing, the people wouldn’t notice because they wouldn’t understand the words. Iskander knew that most gods wouldn’t interfere either, afraid to lose followers and that really did not make his view on the temples of light and order better.

He was going to teach this arrogant cleric a lesson in being humble, ‘if this little priest wants to play the champion of order and light so be it!’

Iskander bowed, “It seems the young boy calls upon his gods to aid them?” “Yes, the cleric said, By their power, I will vanquish you!’

Iskander laughed, he would make this foolish cultist of a cleric know just how correct his friends were to fear him, “well if you call for help of divine beings then I may call in a couple of friends too right?” Iskander started chanting as spell circles crackling with arcane might appeared all over the place, “Imps, succubi, all demonic fiends, your contractor calls upon thee!”

In one spell circle appeared a small legion of imps, the weakest of the true devils but still dangerous creatures, a succubus appeared next to the imps, with a whip made from hellfire. From another circle came a whole pack of fierce hellhounds and a legion of shadow fiends, the fiends were two meters tall, with wings and giant horns, wearing armor and weapons, they were not alone, hundreds of spell circles kept appearing and more fiends materialized by the second. As this legion of infernal horrors took shape upon the hill the cleric sunk down to his knees as the other members of his party fled, they knew they stood no chance.

The cleric was crying, and praying under his breath as Iskander walked closer and the demons stared at him with their burning gazes. Iskander felt his fear when he looked up to him and asked, “w-w-who are you!”

“I am Iskander Oropas, son of the black arch mage Arcturus Oropas, denied heir to the seat of the black magic grandmaster, ruler of demons, and the one who killed the general of the Frienian kingdoms army.” Then Iskander grinned and said the words that nowadays made more than one person tremble in fear.

“I am the wicked warlock!”