The inn, aptly named 'The Thirsty Mule' was positioned conveniently on the outskirts of wind country, along roads scarcely frequented by travellers and tourists but often becoming the resting place of caravaners, mercenaries and bandits alike. It stood as a bastion against the unforgiving elements that ravaged the country of wind, a place to rest your head with a slightly less chance of loosing it than on the open road.
Yong had been hired as a caravan guard, though he now realised it may not be the job for him. The rest of the caravaners had met their end earlier that day, become sand worm food as a monster of a beast had swallowed not only the caravan master he was to be protecting but the caravan, its camels and its entire stock of goods...
And so he found himself with nothing to protect, very little food and, from all reports, this was the only Inn for hundreds of miles in any direction.
He made his way inside, removing his sand walker garb as the proprietor approached him with a twinkle in his eye, the kind given by any shop keeper who has just seen money walk in the door.
"Welcome Master, welcome to my humble establishment..." The inn keeper bowed slightly more exaggeratedly than the occasion called for, continuing with a slight bob of his head as he spoke, "Come take a seat. Would you care for some food? A room for the night?" The in keeper lent in closer, giving Yong a conspirital wink, "...Perhaps you are wanting something more physical..." The inn keeper nudged Yong slightly, taking subconscious note of the feel of armour under his simple travellers robes, as he indicated at one of the serving wenches currently being manhandled by a group of rough looking mercenaries already seated at one of the tables.
Yong replied dispassionately, his eyes scanning the room, taking note of the rather rough and rowdy occupants. "Food would be appreciated..." Yong looked to the inn keeper, "And a room for the night if you can spare it... You seem to have a rather full house."
The Inn Keeper shock his head as he ushered Yong to a table in the corner of the room, as far away from the group as possible in the confined space, "Don't worry yourself Master, those brigands have a camp not far from here, they simply come to drink me dry and partake of my other offerings..."
Yong removed two small nuggets of gold from his full coin purse and handed them to the Inn Keeper before he took a seat. The inn keeper gave him a wide grin before he shuffled off to prepare his newest guests meal. As he moved past the table occupied by the rough mercenaries he gave the leader a nod before he quickly made his way into the back room.
The leader indicated with a hand gesture to a rather large, and almost visibly pungent man, towards Yong. The man stood with a grunt and made his way over to the corner where Yong had been seated. He grunted again, this time in way of communication, "Oi' fancy man!"
Yong looked up impassively at the mountain of a man who currently occupied his immediate view. "I assume you are talking to me... How can I help you friend?"
The man leaned over the table, his fists resting on the scared wood, his stench almost reaching out with a life of its own. "You at my table Fancy Man, and I wants to sit..."
Yong stood slowly and bowed, "Sorry for the intrusion, I was unaware..." He moved to another table and placed his family katana down across the table as he took a seat, his hand holding the sheath just below the guard. He could see where this was going... A blind man in a sand storm could see where this was going...
As expected the brute moved to the new table and placed his large hand on Yong's small shoulder, he looked over at his group with a wicked grin. A snigger came from the table as all eyes turned to watch the boar play with his food...
"Dats me table too..." The brute gripped Yong's shoulder and lifted him out of the seat and too his feet.
Yong looked up blankly at the man, at his large, scare riddled face, at the large cleaver hanging from his hip. He shook his head slightly "Are you sure you want to do this friend? I mean no offence, I simply wish a meal and some peace..."
The brute chuckled again, the sound beginning to get on Yong's nerves, "Yeah Im sure Fancy Man..." His hand began to move to his hip and his fingers grasped the hilt of his crude sword, "...I really wants ta' do dis and I aint your friend."
Yong sighed slightly as he responded to the not so veiled threat, "So be it."
The world slowed to Yong's perceptions as he moved his hand to that of the mercenaries grasping the hilt. His fingers found placement on pressure points on the hand before he gave a sharp, anatomically precise twist, letting go as the brute fell to his knees. A sickening wet crack accompanied the agonised brutes yelp of pain.
The brute howled across to his companions, "'E Broke my fuckin' hand! 'E broke my fuckin' hand!"
Yong swiftly struck with a stone fist to the sweet spot right behind the mans ear, cleanly knocking him into unconsciousness before casually taking his seat again. The brute dropped like a sack of shit (which his smell resembled) on to the stone floor.
The group of mercenaries stood quickly, hands drawing weapons. The wench, thrown to the side, quickly scrambled into the kitchens. She was all to familiar with what was coming next.
The group looked between Yong and their, still seated, leader. The leader, a muscled man with facial tattoos and a pair of much finer weapons, nodded almost imperceptably. Four of the mercenaries leapt into action, rushing across the room the engage their newest victim.
But Yong had the initiative... He always had the initiative. He slid the table towards his oncoming attackers, connecting but only slowing their approach for a split second as one slashed upwards at the table with his large axe, splintering the hard wood into a thousand pieces with unnatural ease.
They rushed through the debris, coming like a storm towards him. The blows came from every direction but Yong was no ordinary man, he moved with lightning speed to avoid the blows, dodging with inhuman dexterity. In a show of acrobatics he flipped backwards between his attackers and landed lightly on the top of his original table, his katana still sheathed in his hand.
The group forged onwards, yelling strange war cries as the approached again, though. Yong could now see the hesitation in their movements. He would take advantage of it. They began to circle his table, each hesitant to approach their skilled opponent.
One began handseals, the first signs that any of them had any skills in the shinobi art. His voice muttering as he proceeded through the seals, a small ball of lightning began to circle through and around his hands... An unseen force seemed to be draining his chakra, making it harder for the jutsu to form fully.
Yong recognised the seals but stayed motionless until the man was complete, his voice ringing throughout the room as he released his jutsu, "Chidori!"
Lightning spun through the air as the man dashed forwards towards the grinning Yong. His hand slamming into the unprotected chest of his target... Or so he thought. Instead of meeting with the expected resistance his hand passed through a smoky figure where once Yong had stood. A look of shock passed over his face as he realised what had happened. But it passed quickly as he began the jutsu again, reforming the waisted chakra, though feeling the pressure exerting itself over him again.
Yong laughed slightly, causing the group to turn to face him once again, he now stood between the group and the rest of their companions. "You really are making this too easy..." Yong, still holding a sheathed weapon, moved into a chakra fighting stance so he could more easily manipulate his chakra and raised his empty hand. He began to do hand seals with his one empty hand, the now familiar seals, albeit only half completed, began to form the same lightning jutsu... Though this time in a dark, muted red colouring, the lightning spiralling around his hand moved almost with a life of its own, like snakes around a tree. "...Now let me show you how it is done."
The man finished his hand seals a split second after Yong, their voices sounding in almost unison as the dashed forward, "Chidori!"
The clashed in the middle, the mans hands met Yong's in a spark of brilliant light. Yong grinned as he overcharged more of his chakra into the jutsu, the energy coiling around his opponents jutsu and coursing through his body. Burning him cell by cell until his smoking corpse slumped to the floor.
One of the others took the opportunity that the death of his companion had provided and delivered a wicked slash to Yong's unprotected back. The blow sent. Yong flying through the air blood fountaining from the aggressive wound. He turned through the air, turning a violent movement into a smooth landing, his feet sliding backwards along the hard stone floor, his empty hand bracing his landing.
He stood slowly, eyes glaring at his attackers. Blood still dripped off of the blade of his assailants weapon. The three rushed at him, weapons swinging arcs towards him, stopping inches from his flesh, against an unseen force surrounding him, clasped by unseen hands that held them in place like rope. Yong gritted his teeth as his hand moved to the hilt of his katana. He swiftly drew the blade and in one motion sliced clean through the weapon and torso of the man who had wounded him. His chakra dripped from the sword edge, mixing with the mans blood.
Yong turned on the other two, his unseen force lifting them off of the ground and grinding them into each other... His Katana moved again, piercing through the two men like a hot knife through butter before they too fell to the now blood slicked floor.
The bandit leader leapt to his feet, overturning the table he had been sitting at. The other mercenaries fanning out around the room, this had quickly changed from a simple mugging of an unknown stranger into a fight for their lives...
Yong's eyes began to roll into the back of his head as the bandit leader stepped forward, his fine weapons drawn and at the ready. A low moan escaped his lips as his dark chakra began to seep from the wound across his back, coiling around his body and incasing him in a dark aura. The moan turned into a howl, sending pulses of dark energy away from his body, cascading away from him and causing the group to back step to maintain their footing.
This was all about to get real...
[topic left, to be continued, MFT]
Yong had been hired as a caravan guard, though he now realised it may not be the job for him. The rest of the caravaners had met their end earlier that day, become sand worm food as a monster of a beast had swallowed not only the caravan master he was to be protecting but the caravan, its camels and its entire stock of goods...
And so he found himself with nothing to protect, very little food and, from all reports, this was the only Inn for hundreds of miles in any direction.
He made his way inside, removing his sand walker garb as the proprietor approached him with a twinkle in his eye, the kind given by any shop keeper who has just seen money walk in the door.
"Welcome Master, welcome to my humble establishment..." The inn keeper bowed slightly more exaggeratedly than the occasion called for, continuing with a slight bob of his head as he spoke, "Come take a seat. Would you care for some food? A room for the night?" The in keeper lent in closer, giving Yong a conspirital wink, "...Perhaps you are wanting something more physical..." The inn keeper nudged Yong slightly, taking subconscious note of the feel of armour under his simple travellers robes, as he indicated at one of the serving wenches currently being manhandled by a group of rough looking mercenaries already seated at one of the tables.
Yong replied dispassionately, his eyes scanning the room, taking note of the rather rough and rowdy occupants. "Food would be appreciated..." Yong looked to the inn keeper, "And a room for the night if you can spare it... You seem to have a rather full house."
The Inn Keeper shock his head as he ushered Yong to a table in the corner of the room, as far away from the group as possible in the confined space, "Don't worry yourself Master, those brigands have a camp not far from here, they simply come to drink me dry and partake of my other offerings..."
Yong removed two small nuggets of gold from his full coin purse and handed them to the Inn Keeper before he took a seat. The inn keeper gave him a wide grin before he shuffled off to prepare his newest guests meal. As he moved past the table occupied by the rough mercenaries he gave the leader a nod before he quickly made his way into the back room.
The leader indicated with a hand gesture to a rather large, and almost visibly pungent man, towards Yong. The man stood with a grunt and made his way over to the corner where Yong had been seated. He grunted again, this time in way of communication, "Oi' fancy man!"
Yong looked up impassively at the mountain of a man who currently occupied his immediate view. "I assume you are talking to me... How can I help you friend?"
The man leaned over the table, his fists resting on the scared wood, his stench almost reaching out with a life of its own. "You at my table Fancy Man, and I wants to sit..."
Yong stood slowly and bowed, "Sorry for the intrusion, I was unaware..." He moved to another table and placed his family katana down across the table as he took a seat, his hand holding the sheath just below the guard. He could see where this was going... A blind man in a sand storm could see where this was going...
As expected the brute moved to the new table and placed his large hand on Yong's small shoulder, he looked over at his group with a wicked grin. A snigger came from the table as all eyes turned to watch the boar play with his food...
"Dats me table too..." The brute gripped Yong's shoulder and lifted him out of the seat and too his feet.
Yong looked up blankly at the man, at his large, scare riddled face, at the large cleaver hanging from his hip. He shook his head slightly "Are you sure you want to do this friend? I mean no offence, I simply wish a meal and some peace..."
The brute chuckled again, the sound beginning to get on Yong's nerves, "Yeah Im sure Fancy Man..." His hand began to move to his hip and his fingers grasped the hilt of his crude sword, "...I really wants ta' do dis and I aint your friend."
Yong sighed slightly as he responded to the not so veiled threat, "So be it."
The world slowed to Yong's perceptions as he moved his hand to that of the mercenaries grasping the hilt. His fingers found placement on pressure points on the hand before he gave a sharp, anatomically precise twist, letting go as the brute fell to his knees. A sickening wet crack accompanied the agonised brutes yelp of pain.
The brute howled across to his companions, "'E Broke my fuckin' hand! 'E broke my fuckin' hand!"
Yong swiftly struck with a stone fist to the sweet spot right behind the mans ear, cleanly knocking him into unconsciousness before casually taking his seat again. The brute dropped like a sack of shit (which his smell resembled) on to the stone floor.
The group of mercenaries stood quickly, hands drawing weapons. The wench, thrown to the side, quickly scrambled into the kitchens. She was all to familiar with what was coming next.
The group looked between Yong and their, still seated, leader. The leader, a muscled man with facial tattoos and a pair of much finer weapons, nodded almost imperceptably. Four of the mercenaries leapt into action, rushing across the room the engage their newest victim.
But Yong had the initiative... He always had the initiative. He slid the table towards his oncoming attackers, connecting but only slowing their approach for a split second as one slashed upwards at the table with his large axe, splintering the hard wood into a thousand pieces with unnatural ease.
They rushed through the debris, coming like a storm towards him. The blows came from every direction but Yong was no ordinary man, he moved with lightning speed to avoid the blows, dodging with inhuman dexterity. In a show of acrobatics he flipped backwards between his attackers and landed lightly on the top of his original table, his katana still sheathed in his hand.
The group forged onwards, yelling strange war cries as the approached again, though. Yong could now see the hesitation in their movements. He would take advantage of it. They began to circle his table, each hesitant to approach their skilled opponent.
One began handseals, the first signs that any of them had any skills in the shinobi art. His voice muttering as he proceeded through the seals, a small ball of lightning began to circle through and around his hands... An unseen force seemed to be draining his chakra, making it harder for the jutsu to form fully.
Yong recognised the seals but stayed motionless until the man was complete, his voice ringing throughout the room as he released his jutsu, "Chidori!"
Lightning spun through the air as the man dashed forwards towards the grinning Yong. His hand slamming into the unprotected chest of his target... Or so he thought. Instead of meeting with the expected resistance his hand passed through a smoky figure where once Yong had stood. A look of shock passed over his face as he realised what had happened. But it passed quickly as he began the jutsu again, reforming the waisted chakra, though feeling the pressure exerting itself over him again.
Yong laughed slightly, causing the group to turn to face him once again, he now stood between the group and the rest of their companions. "You really are making this too easy..." Yong, still holding a sheathed weapon, moved into a chakra fighting stance so he could more easily manipulate his chakra and raised his empty hand. He began to do hand seals with his one empty hand, the now familiar seals, albeit only half completed, began to form the same lightning jutsu... Though this time in a dark, muted red colouring, the lightning spiralling around his hand moved almost with a life of its own, like snakes around a tree. "...Now let me show you how it is done."
The man finished his hand seals a split second after Yong, their voices sounding in almost unison as the dashed forward, "Chidori!"
The clashed in the middle, the mans hands met Yong's in a spark of brilliant light. Yong grinned as he overcharged more of his chakra into the jutsu, the energy coiling around his opponents jutsu and coursing through his body. Burning him cell by cell until his smoking corpse slumped to the floor.
One of the others took the opportunity that the death of his companion had provided and delivered a wicked slash to Yong's unprotected back. The blow sent. Yong flying through the air blood fountaining from the aggressive wound. He turned through the air, turning a violent movement into a smooth landing, his feet sliding backwards along the hard stone floor, his empty hand bracing his landing.
He stood slowly, eyes glaring at his attackers. Blood still dripped off of the blade of his assailants weapon. The three rushed at him, weapons swinging arcs towards him, stopping inches from his flesh, against an unseen force surrounding him, clasped by unseen hands that held them in place like rope. Yong gritted his teeth as his hand moved to the hilt of his katana. He swiftly drew the blade and in one motion sliced clean through the weapon and torso of the man who had wounded him. His chakra dripped from the sword edge, mixing with the mans blood.
Yong turned on the other two, his unseen force lifting them off of the ground and grinding them into each other... His Katana moved again, piercing through the two men like a hot knife through butter before they too fell to the now blood slicked floor.
The bandit leader leapt to his feet, overturning the table he had been sitting at. The other mercenaries fanning out around the room, this had quickly changed from a simple mugging of an unknown stranger into a fight for their lives...
Yong's eyes began to roll into the back of his head as the bandit leader stepped forward, his fine weapons drawn and at the ready. A low moan escaped his lips as his dark chakra began to seep from the wound across his back, coiling around his body and incasing him in a dark aura. The moan turned into a howl, sending pulses of dark energy away from his body, cascading away from him and causing the group to back step to maintain their footing.
This was all about to get real...
[topic left, to be continued, MFT]