The Myrddraal drew its black sword slowly, silently, stepping forwards to face the black-coated man. Its eyeless face was shrouded in the shadows beneath its hood as it rasped. "A black coat cannot save you, mortal."
The black-coated man looked up distractedly, toying with a small flame that danced on his fingertips. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said. "I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am."
The Myrddraal took another step forwards. "Your pathetic 'awesome' is nothing next to the glories of the Great Lord of the Dark," it said, raising its sword.
"What?" said the black-coated man. "I'm sorry, but this flame is really cool. Look at all the little swirly bits in it, and the flickery bits, and the burny bits." He held out his hand. "Isn't it cool?"
By now, the Myrddraal was growing more than a little frustrated.
"I mean, just look at it. I wonder what will happen if I make it bigger?" The flame suddenly expanded into a huge ball of raging fire, the heat making the small room feel like a furnace. "Wow, ok, maybe a bit smaller than that." The fireball shrunk. Slightly.
"Stop this toying, mortal," grated the Myrddraal. "It is time for you to die."
"What? Really?" said the man. "Damn, looks like I'll have to be super-awesome again to get out of this."
"Silence," said the Myrddraal, moving in, sword ready.
"I mean, stuff always ends up getting broken when I do that," babbled the man. "Shoddy buildings can't even contain the awesome levels of my awesomeness. Is it too much to ask for a destruction-proof building?"
"Actually, I could probably make one of those. Yeah, if I make a destruction-proof building, I can sell it to everyone else for loads and loads of money! I'll be a frickin' millionaire! Oh, now that's a plan!"
"SILENCE, I SAID!"
"I could be bigger than the guy who invented swords!" cackled the man. "I could retire to some island, and hire the Dragon Reborn to come be my servant! Hehe; 'here you go, Mr Reborn, go and clean my kecks. And then fetch me a beer. And then break the world!'. Oh, no, wait, can't do that last one. I'm not supposed to break the world. I'm sure that's what they said…"
"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP! I'M TRYING TO FLAMING KILL YOU!"
"What?" the man said, looking up. "Oh, you. Wait a minute, will you. I'm trying to figure something out…"
"I WILL NOT WAIT! DO I HAVE TO TALK LIKE THE GREAT LORD OF THE DARK JUST TO GET YOUR ATTENTIONM, DAMMIT? I'M THE ONE TRYING TO KILL YOU!"
"Now that's not very composed, is it?" said the man. "Aren't you supposed to be more the 'silent and badass' type of baddie, rather than the 'flaming mental' variety?"
The Myrddraal took several deep breaths. "Never – never – in all my years as a degenerate outcast offspring of a degenerate monster of darkness, have I ever had to shout at someone to let him know I was about to kill him. Are you completely insane?"
"Completely," nodded the man. "Taim said so, when he set the others after me. I think they wanted to kill me, you know."
The Myrddraal didn't quite know what to say to that. So instead, it went back to plan A. "Prepare to die," it said.
"-but I showed them, didn't I? Shouldn't teach insane people to Travel, not if you want to catch them and kill th- what? Die?" The man looked a bit shocked. "No, that won't be very nice at all. I mean, why do you want to do that? Won't it hurt?"
"You oppose my Master," the Myrddraal said. "And so you must die."
The man brightened, as if he had just had a revelation. "Oh, you want me to die! Well, that makes a lot more sense. Wait, hold on a minute, though, doesn't that mean you'll have to stab me with that sword?"
"Yes," said the Myrddraal, the relish in its tone turning to complete bafflement when it raised its sword again. It had somehow turned into a haddock. A very long, very thin, very black, haddock.
The man clapped his hands over his mouth like a child, trying (unsuccessfully) to hold back laughter. "Go on then," he laughed. "Stab me!"
The Myrddraal took a long look at his new haddock-sword, and stabbed him.
"Ow," said the man, looking down at the haddock-sword that protruded from his stomach. "That wasn't expected. Hey look, it's got blood in its little eyes! Hehe, fishy fishy can't see! Fishy fishy can't see, fishy can't swim in me!"
The Myrddraal grated its teeth, and twisted the haddock-sword. "You've got a Thakan'dar-wrought haddock embedded in your stomach. Why aren't you dying in agony?"
"Fishy fishy fishy! Fishy fishy- what? Oh, the dead thing. Serious now, is it? Okay, I can do serious. Honest. Trust me, this one time, we had to-"
"Shut up and die!"
"And then we all- shut up and die? No, that's not how it went. Oh, hey, I've just realised, I've got a haddock in me and I'm fine. How awesome is that? I must be made of solidified awesome or something. Wow, imagine that; solidified awesome. I could just get a big block of it and stuff it down my-"
"Oh, forget it. Someone else can kill him." The Myrddraal sighed, and turned away, heading for the door. He left the haddock-sword in the man.
"Hey, wait, did you want to have some kind of awesome fight or something?" said the man. He pulled the haddock-sword out of himself and threw it to the Myrddraal. On the way, it became an awesome looking sword, with sharp, wavy edges and spikes sticking out of it all over the place.
The Myddraal caught it. "So… I can kill you?" it said tentatively.
"Yup," said the man, producing an axe made of pure lighting from thin air. "I suppose you'll be wanting to attack, or something?"
"Finally," sighed the Myrddraal, and then attacked. It swung an awesome swing at the man, but the lighting-axe was there like… well, lighting, to block it.
The two settled in to a fight of such unspeakable awesome that it cannot be described. There were huge flashes of light that went Freeeeem! and massive exploding explosions that went all Kgghhhraaarrggghhh! and stuff smashing into little pieces like Smash! and rings of fire that were all Ghhgrroooaarr! and large animals jumping through said rings of fire (and they were all like Moooo!) and stuff like that.
When they were done, there was very little left of the room. Or, indeed, the entire town. The man stood holding his lighting-axe, and the Myrddraal stood holding its awesome sword, and they both just looked at each other. Not just any ordinary look, though, this was the 'smouldering rivalry' look that goodies and baddies always do when they ever have a final showdown. I think it's in the law or something. You know, the look where you can practically see the sparks jumping between them.
Heh, funny," said the man.
"What?" said the Myddraal, gathering itself.
"Your cloak's moving."
"WHAT?" yelled the Myddraal, spinning around to try and see. "I paid good money for this weighted cloak! How dare it fail now! I'm going to- Gghurk!"
It didn't mean to say 'Gghurk'. It said 'Gghurk' because the man had taken the opportunity to walk over and axe it in the head.
"Hah hah, I win. I win and you're dead!" said the man. "Now, where was I? Oh yeah, the fish. No, wait, not the fish. It was something about Taim. Or was it fire? Maybe if I go to… Arafel. Yes, Arafel. They wear bells on their heads. They must know what I was thinking about."
And so, babbling in his demented version of logic, the man opened a Traveling gate and stepped through…