Post by Shura on Oct 7, 2003 16:37:31 GMT -5
The fly buzzed obscenely as it circled its prey. And yet it could not be seen. Flitting about, it would approach its target swiftly and undetected. All around, it stank of death and decay. And then, suddenly, it was revealed, too late. It had landed, and the flesh had already started to putrefy.
When he was fully dressed, Mori allowed himself to relax. It was not usual, he thought, for one of his kind to feel so tense before they carried out their work. Ahead of him, lying open on the wooden floor of his room, was a small black box containing all manner of vials, pouches and tiny boxes each carefully labelled in the language of the Eastern kingdom.
Between Mori and his tools there was a fine curved blade, resembling in its design the katana used by the samurai warriors of the Eastern kingdom, but shorter in length. Mori lifted the sword, his ninja-to, and toyed with idly. Mori himself was dressed all in black cloth, only his eyes showed through the shroud. Small iron rods were sewn into his sleeves, and his belt had many hooks and clasps to hold the tools that he would take with him on missions.
His reflection in the mirror on the wall opposite revealed his open palm. It bore a detailed tattoo of a fly. He had it done before he left. A priestess of Baal had inscribed and blessed it to attract the power and favour of the Lord of Pestilence and Decay. Mori had never felt that it granted him with supernatural luck. He always planned to exclusion of luck when he worked, but…
Dusk was setting, and Mori knew he still had quite some time before he began. He had been on the trail of his targets for almost six weeks now. It had been a long journey, one that had taken him far from the home of his clan in the East, across the Western Sea to the gaijin lands, where he had endured the filthy, uncivilised people and horrid food and weather to follow his quarry.
Originally his mission had been simply to find and slay the renegade warrior monk, Kael. A daunting task in itself, for the man was a great warrior and a hero in these lands. If the tales were to be believed, he had slain a vampire, one of the immortal lords of the Lands of Shadow to the North. As Mori had progressed in his mission certain… complications had arisen.
The fugitive had, it seemed, had come to these lands on a personal quest of his own. Scarcely three weeks since his arrival, he had stolen into a strong castle and escaped with a captive, a girl that could not be more than fifteen summers of age. During the first few days of his flight, Kael had been forced to restrain his captive, but now they seemed to have become companions on the road, the girl willingly accompanying him. Mori guessed that the girl must be highborn, because his employer had ordered him to take her alive as soon as he heard the news. Still, it could not be too hard. They had no way of knowing he was here, and sooner or later, they would have to sleep. Nevertheless, he knew better than to take chances and would be on his guard. His reflection finished, Mori equipped himself. It was time.
Alya tossed and turned in her bed, waiting for sleep, but it would not come. She did not sleep easily these days anyway, her mind constantly dwelling on the mysterious warrior who was her guide and protected her, the things he told her, and what lay ahead for her. When he was in the mood, Kael would tell her stories. He could talk for hours of the mysterious lands and faraway places beyond the Sunrise Keep, where she had spent most of her life. Even more captivating were his stories about her father. The Ravenstar family at Sunrise Keep had raised her as a girl of noble birth, and she had been told that her father had been a lord who had lost his life in a distant war shortly after she had been born. According to Kael, her father had been an adventurer, a wanderer and vagabond during the time of the Crawling Chaos. Although the knowledge had been hidden from her during her youth, apparently her father was still praised as the greatest of heroes throughout the west and his name was a curse on the lips of the vampire lords who ruled over the frigid wastelands to the north. Her father was Jarek, and his victory and noble sacrifice in destroying the demon prince Malebranche were legendary. Alya had never known her mother, she had been told that she died during her birth, and if Kael knew, he would not tell her anything, always changing the subject. If she asked about the purpose of their journey, or any subject that he did not want to answer, the blind monk chided her and told her that all would be revealed in time. Despite his affliction Kael acted as if he had near-perfect sight. This was yet another personal mystery that he declined to explain.
Eventually she gave up all hope of sleeping and dressed herself lightly to visit Kael. She opened the door quietly and saw her guardian sitting cross-legged on the floor, wearing his usual loose baggy trousers and cloth bracers around his arms. In front of him lay his magnificent sword, Harmony. When she entered the room he immediately seized his blade and rolled in front of her in one rapid movement, moments before a steel throwing star whizzed past the spot where his head had been.
Kael adopted a fighting stance. Disturbing dreams had haunted him in his sleep, rousing him and making him restless and apprehensive. He had dreamed that a fly, one that despite his best efforts, he could not catch or escape, was stalking him. When he least expected it, it had landed on him, and even before they touched he his skin had rotted. His shen sight had seen the flickering hues of black and red that composed his assassin’s soul, while meditating long before Alya had called on him, but had declined to take action since he did not know the purpose of this strange visit. He could not let his charge be harmed, and in moving to protect her he had found out what he needed. “Back!” he hissed to Alya, “ninja!” He was not particularly surprised when an envenomed needle flew into his outstretched palm. His training had rendered him immune to such attacks typical of ninja. Through the sound of hissing steel, Kael thought he heard a muted “of course” from his opponent.
The figure paced uncertainly for a moment, but Kael would not leave the doorway. Kael lunged at his stomach. At the last moment his opponent whipped his own blade up and across his forehead. Harmony rang against the iron rods in his sleeve like a hammer hitting an anvil. As Kael stepped back, as his opponent slashed at his legs with mind-boggling speed. He jumped high over the sword’s path and landed on his feet. He was just in time to twist his right forearm up across his chest and bring Harmony up to catch the blade before it bit into his neck. With a deft flick of his wrist, he sent the ninja’s sword flying through the air to bury itself in the wooden wall.
Mori rolled to safety and adopted a fighting stance. The renegade smiled at him and lay down his lethal blade before advancing. Mori considered his options. If he engaged in unarmed combat with a warrior-monk, he would risk being stunned and captured. He could not take that chance. Bowing before his opponent he muttered arcane words of power under his breath that would make him invisible and resolved to make his escape. But the monk’s advance continued, with his dead eyes fixed in Mori’s direction. As the ninja was in mid-leap out of Kael’s open window, the monk’s arm shot out and his hand caught Mori’s foot and held him dangling some thirty feet above the ground.
As he became visible again, the ninja cursed the fates. He could not execute a safe fall from this position and the monk’s grip was as iron. He could hear his opponent trying to bargain, offering mercy, but he paid no attention. He was focused on preparing his spirit for seppeku, honourable suicide.
When she re- entered the room, Alya found her guardian seated as usual, but this time before the body of his assailant. The corpse had been stripped of all possessions, which were laid out on the floor nearby. Kael made no sound as Alya investigated the scene with morbid fascination. She stopped dead when she saw into the man’s mouth. He had sawn off his tongue with his teeth and choked to death on it.
“We must leave immediately.” He ordered. “This one is just the first. If I’m right about who he’s been working for, there will be worse things than ninja after us before our journey’s end.” With that he tossed the assassins sword before her feet, and waited expectantly. There were so many things she wanted to say. She wanted to shout, she wanted to cry, she desperately wanted to sleep and wake up to find the night’s events to be some sort of insane dream. Stupefied, she stared blankly and the steel blade before her. Seeing her, Kael's expression softened. “It’ll be alright. I’ll clean everything up, but you’ll need the sword. Sleep in my bed tonight. I will watch over you here. It’s been a long night, and you’ll need the rest to carry on tomorrow. But we must leave first thing in the morning.”
And she knew those were the only words of comfort she would get from him. Too tired to argue, she said nothing, just crawled into Kael’s bed and drifted into oblivion, thankfully undisturbed despite Kael having to clean up as he called it. Through the rest of the night, Kael watched over her from his prayer mat, his conern apparent in his expression.
When he was fully dressed, Mori allowed himself to relax. It was not usual, he thought, for one of his kind to feel so tense before they carried out their work. Ahead of him, lying open on the wooden floor of his room, was a small black box containing all manner of vials, pouches and tiny boxes each carefully labelled in the language of the Eastern kingdom.
Between Mori and his tools there was a fine curved blade, resembling in its design the katana used by the samurai warriors of the Eastern kingdom, but shorter in length. Mori lifted the sword, his ninja-to, and toyed with idly. Mori himself was dressed all in black cloth, only his eyes showed through the shroud. Small iron rods were sewn into his sleeves, and his belt had many hooks and clasps to hold the tools that he would take with him on missions.
His reflection in the mirror on the wall opposite revealed his open palm. It bore a detailed tattoo of a fly. He had it done before he left. A priestess of Baal had inscribed and blessed it to attract the power and favour of the Lord of Pestilence and Decay. Mori had never felt that it granted him with supernatural luck. He always planned to exclusion of luck when he worked, but…
Dusk was setting, and Mori knew he still had quite some time before he began. He had been on the trail of his targets for almost six weeks now. It had been a long journey, one that had taken him far from the home of his clan in the East, across the Western Sea to the gaijin lands, where he had endured the filthy, uncivilised people and horrid food and weather to follow his quarry.
Originally his mission had been simply to find and slay the renegade warrior monk, Kael. A daunting task in itself, for the man was a great warrior and a hero in these lands. If the tales were to be believed, he had slain a vampire, one of the immortal lords of the Lands of Shadow to the North. As Mori had progressed in his mission certain… complications had arisen.
The fugitive had, it seemed, had come to these lands on a personal quest of his own. Scarcely three weeks since his arrival, he had stolen into a strong castle and escaped with a captive, a girl that could not be more than fifteen summers of age. During the first few days of his flight, Kael had been forced to restrain his captive, but now they seemed to have become companions on the road, the girl willingly accompanying him. Mori guessed that the girl must be highborn, because his employer had ordered him to take her alive as soon as he heard the news. Still, it could not be too hard. They had no way of knowing he was here, and sooner or later, they would have to sleep. Nevertheless, he knew better than to take chances and would be on his guard. His reflection finished, Mori equipped himself. It was time.
Alya tossed and turned in her bed, waiting for sleep, but it would not come. She did not sleep easily these days anyway, her mind constantly dwelling on the mysterious warrior who was her guide and protected her, the things he told her, and what lay ahead for her. When he was in the mood, Kael would tell her stories. He could talk for hours of the mysterious lands and faraway places beyond the Sunrise Keep, where she had spent most of her life. Even more captivating were his stories about her father. The Ravenstar family at Sunrise Keep had raised her as a girl of noble birth, and she had been told that her father had been a lord who had lost his life in a distant war shortly after she had been born. According to Kael, her father had been an adventurer, a wanderer and vagabond during the time of the Crawling Chaos. Although the knowledge had been hidden from her during her youth, apparently her father was still praised as the greatest of heroes throughout the west and his name was a curse on the lips of the vampire lords who ruled over the frigid wastelands to the north. Her father was Jarek, and his victory and noble sacrifice in destroying the demon prince Malebranche were legendary. Alya had never known her mother, she had been told that she died during her birth, and if Kael knew, he would not tell her anything, always changing the subject. If she asked about the purpose of their journey, or any subject that he did not want to answer, the blind monk chided her and told her that all would be revealed in time. Despite his affliction Kael acted as if he had near-perfect sight. This was yet another personal mystery that he declined to explain.
Eventually she gave up all hope of sleeping and dressed herself lightly to visit Kael. She opened the door quietly and saw her guardian sitting cross-legged on the floor, wearing his usual loose baggy trousers and cloth bracers around his arms. In front of him lay his magnificent sword, Harmony. When she entered the room he immediately seized his blade and rolled in front of her in one rapid movement, moments before a steel throwing star whizzed past the spot where his head had been.
Kael adopted a fighting stance. Disturbing dreams had haunted him in his sleep, rousing him and making him restless and apprehensive. He had dreamed that a fly, one that despite his best efforts, he could not catch or escape, was stalking him. When he least expected it, it had landed on him, and even before they touched he his skin had rotted. His shen sight had seen the flickering hues of black and red that composed his assassin’s soul, while meditating long before Alya had called on him, but had declined to take action since he did not know the purpose of this strange visit. He could not let his charge be harmed, and in moving to protect her he had found out what he needed. “Back!” he hissed to Alya, “ninja!” He was not particularly surprised when an envenomed needle flew into his outstretched palm. His training had rendered him immune to such attacks typical of ninja. Through the sound of hissing steel, Kael thought he heard a muted “of course” from his opponent.
The figure paced uncertainly for a moment, but Kael would not leave the doorway. Kael lunged at his stomach. At the last moment his opponent whipped his own blade up and across his forehead. Harmony rang against the iron rods in his sleeve like a hammer hitting an anvil. As Kael stepped back, as his opponent slashed at his legs with mind-boggling speed. He jumped high over the sword’s path and landed on his feet. He was just in time to twist his right forearm up across his chest and bring Harmony up to catch the blade before it bit into his neck. With a deft flick of his wrist, he sent the ninja’s sword flying through the air to bury itself in the wooden wall.
Mori rolled to safety and adopted a fighting stance. The renegade smiled at him and lay down his lethal blade before advancing. Mori considered his options. If he engaged in unarmed combat with a warrior-monk, he would risk being stunned and captured. He could not take that chance. Bowing before his opponent he muttered arcane words of power under his breath that would make him invisible and resolved to make his escape. But the monk’s advance continued, with his dead eyes fixed in Mori’s direction. As the ninja was in mid-leap out of Kael’s open window, the monk’s arm shot out and his hand caught Mori’s foot and held him dangling some thirty feet above the ground.
As he became visible again, the ninja cursed the fates. He could not execute a safe fall from this position and the monk’s grip was as iron. He could hear his opponent trying to bargain, offering mercy, but he paid no attention. He was focused on preparing his spirit for seppeku, honourable suicide.
When she re- entered the room, Alya found her guardian seated as usual, but this time before the body of his assailant. The corpse had been stripped of all possessions, which were laid out on the floor nearby. Kael made no sound as Alya investigated the scene with morbid fascination. She stopped dead when she saw into the man’s mouth. He had sawn off his tongue with his teeth and choked to death on it.
“We must leave immediately.” He ordered. “This one is just the first. If I’m right about who he’s been working for, there will be worse things than ninja after us before our journey’s end.” With that he tossed the assassins sword before her feet, and waited expectantly. There were so many things she wanted to say. She wanted to shout, she wanted to cry, she desperately wanted to sleep and wake up to find the night’s events to be some sort of insane dream. Stupefied, she stared blankly and the steel blade before her. Seeing her, Kael's expression softened. “It’ll be alright. I’ll clean everything up, but you’ll need the sword. Sleep in my bed tonight. I will watch over you here. It’s been a long night, and you’ll need the rest to carry on tomorrow. But we must leave first thing in the morning.”
And she knew those were the only words of comfort she would get from him. Too tired to argue, she said nothing, just crawled into Kael’s bed and drifted into oblivion, thankfully undisturbed despite Kael having to clean up as he called it. Through the rest of the night, Kael watched over her from his prayer mat, his conern apparent in his expression.