Round 1: Team D

[Mari]

“The fuck is the fuckin’ fuckers problem!?” The slew of curse words, and then some, had erupted from Amari as she steadied herself from the rumbling of the attack on the cliff and the subsequent fall of the debris.

Her verdant gaze fell to the catfolk who were desperately grasping at the man in the dark kimono. His attire was reminiscent of the Akashiman woman Amari had met once. Her eyes narrowed as things slowly began to fall into place in her head. He was from there, or at least affiliated with their people, she glanced over at Gum and their eyes met - she understood that he had come to that conclusion, no doubt long before her. Amari would have to keep a watch on the masked man.

Her eyes fell to the grovelling creatures at her feet and her lips turned down into a look of distaste. “Can we do something about this?” She muttered as she took a step back, waving her arms to shoo the creatures away to no avail. One shuffled forward and clasped onto her coat. Amari grit her teeth in frustration, “You're gonna get yourself hurt.” She muttered, not that it seemed to get through to the cat creature, who insisted on rubbing its face against Amari’s leg. Amari kicked her leg, throwing the creature off her.

“No one told me there would be heavy gunfire.” Amari muttered distastefully, more annoyed at the cat creature who had stubbornly shuffled over and gripped her leg again than being shot at.

One of the rangers cleared his throat, his eyes nervously glancing at the feverishly swaying energy tentacles protruding from her back. “Could be the Ixian Knights, Miss. Perchance they wish to gain the upper hand by staging an attack on the refugees?”

Amari’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the Ixian Knights, her Master warned her about them, just as she opened her mouth to say something the masked man interrupted with a rebuttal toward the ranger.

His voice was hoarse and slightly muffled by the mask he wore. “The Knights don’t use such dishonorable tactics!” His hand clenching in visible anger, “They don’t have access to gunpowder, there was only one man in the entire army who used it! Don’t let the wounds of the past cloud your judgement today.”

“Well then…” Amari finished. “I suppose we can rule them out then, eh, Knight?” She asked as her eyes landed on the masked man. “What was your name again?” She asked curiously.

“I am Taka. Who are you?”

“Red.” She replied, as the two spoke, one of the energy tentacles brushed past the needy bipedal cat creature, it howled in pain as it let go of her, an angry red burn across its side and face. The creature howled and cried and caused a stir in the other creatures.

“I told you to stay the fuck back!” Amari snapped. “Fuck me…”

“What did you do?” the Ixian Knight growled.

“Oh, like I did it on purpose!” Amari spat back, “You saw what happened. I warned you all not to fuckin’ get to close. You look like you’re from Akashima, you tell the damn things to leave us the fuck alone.”

Another cat creature hissed and leapt at Amari with intent to attack, before it touched her one of the tentacles whipped forward and caught it by its throat, slamming it into the ground with a sickening snap.

Silence followed the unexpected death of the refugee. Amari stared at it with wild, wide eyes. She hadn’t meant to kill it, it was reflex. The damn thing came at her. Her eyes shifted toward Gum who looked alarmed, as their plan was quickly unravelling. Before anyone could address the matter, the sounds of clattering rocks and muttering voices began to echo up from the cliff side.

[Tainted Bushido]

Taka’s hand hovered over the hilt of Rengoku. His blood had already been simmering at the frustration of culture shock. The catfolk had been nothing but annoying by grasping at the edges of his Kimono almost pleadingly as they clicked in their tongue. He was mad because he couldn’t understand them, he was mad because they touched him, he was mad because he was relegated to guard duty for people who obviously didn’t need his help, and he especially was mad that he knew that symbol from somewhere.

A breath helped calm his mind, knowing he had come close to being swept away in the rage. The Oni was certainly pushing the frustration, making things just a bit more annoying, a fraction more maddening. It was death by inches, slowly marching him to his own destruction. One day he knew he would fall victim to the blood within him, and he would never come back from the tempest. Taka, however, refused to succumb this day, and so he pushed beyond his emotions to examine the facts.

They seemed to cluster about him, pawing at him with an urgent frequency. That meant that he had the look of someone they wished to talk to. They also seemed to throw themselves at the enigmatic Red, who seemed belligerent at best. His hand moved from the hilt of his sword, while he realized that there was the issue of not being able to communicate with the catfolk. Perhaps it was their actions that would speak louder, they seemed to realize that relying on their language would not help them in the least.

The gaze of the tainted warrior turned to the rangers who seemed more content to stay at the edges of the events going on than actually participating. It made sense, they didn’t want to be here, and they certainly didn’t want Taka to gain anything but coin for his troubles here. The Dark Blade knew he would have more a chance of redeeming himself and purging the Oni than getting the Rangers to side with him. He raised his voice to them, “Gunso Nadiliya, a moment!”

“Leave me be ronin. I’d rather kiss N’jal’s spidery ass than get involved. Just play your part, get your gold and leave me be.” The response was heated to say the least. Taka sighed seeing that he was going to get nowhere.

He tried one last time, “Nadiliya-sama, I need your help-”

“Shut it Dark Blade, I’m not going to play patsy to one of the Ixian Generals. So help me Yedda if you don’t stop bothering me I will shatter that fancy mask of yours and shove the shards so far up your ass you will be spitting porcelain for a week.”

He turned back to the Catfolk before he sighed, “What I wouldn’t trade for a Nekojin to be here, maybe they can help out. What I wouldn’t give for this to have happened in Akashima-” He paused when he saw all the Catfolk turn to face him at the naming of his homeland. He knew something had occurred then.

He tested his theory: “Akashima.”

One of the Catfolk seemed to nod emphatically before pointing at the rune. Akashima and the Rune? Was this how they said the name of his homeland? If so that would have explained the rune, but that seemed too crude. Why draw a rune when you are more than sure the people of the land don’t speak the language? It was especially foolhardy in that if they used their language it would have required either someone experienced in runes, or someone who could use magic to understand them to figure out.

Considering none of the people he saw as part of the diplomatic envoy seemed that capable of the feat, it meant the rune might have been another ploy. Besides, the sigil seemed so familiar, as if he had seen it for all his life. It seemed ingrained in who he was, and he knew better than to toss such feelings aside as a casual happenstance.

Perhaps you do learn, little falcon…

The Oni’s words were reassuring in a mocking manner. Taka knew they were at odds, but the Oni also knew it couldn’t be against him all the time. If Sen no Oni he could get Taka to believe they were friends, the path to damnation would be all but assured. The scent of burned gunpowder and stone wafted up as he heard another sound. Metal upon stone, and rapidly. Whatever was coming up had begun to gain speed. Taka moved to the edge of the cliffs and looked down to see dark figures climbing the cliff face at an alarming pace.

Taka gestured the Catfolk back before he called, “Prepare yourself, whoever attacked the cliffside will be upon us any moment!”

[Fez_The_Kid]

Guess they’re taking the party to us instead. Azaranth slipped his sword in its sheath, turning to face the new presence that made its way up the cliff face. Battalions of sailors, many of whom were no doubt soldiers, would soon be standing at the edge, armed and prepared to retrieve their kin. They would be unmindful of any resistance, from the Rangers, Azaranth or otherwise. Of course, this was mostly speculation; their true appearance and reaction was all but anyone’s guess. They’d all know soon enough, for the noisy climbing sounds grew ever closer and closer.

The sun was almost swallowed whole by the horizon, and, as one, a dozen silhouetted figures rose from the jagged edge, each individual straightening to his full height as he stepped forth. They all moved to form several arrays, halting in position - their ranks burgeoning by the second. Azaranth could discern no signs of climbing equipment— Unsurprising, with how they could all be easily mistaken for lions. Except these ones are bipedal, and likely pretty pissed.

“Normally I’d be surprised,” Azaranth murmured to Taka, “but after seeing cats the size of humans… well, expect we’ll be greeting leopard people after this.” Even he did not sense the humor in his words, for they were strained, ultimately affected by the seriousness of the situation. Adding to the tension still were the restless, shifting mass of the quarantined cat-folk; some baring their teeth in hackle-raised hisses.

Silence filled the now chill air, the new arrivals, some of them maned, standing broader and taller than that of their blood-relatives. The various shapes of weapons jutted out from their huge figures, ranging from single-edged daggers to long, standard-bearing spears, the flags ominously fluttering in this young night’s wind. Most soldiers were clothed in leather, save a couple who sported the heavy embrace of silvery chainmail.

Azaranth gritted his teeth. The orderly manner which they had employed in positioning themselves was too calculated, detailed - a telltale sign, Azaranth feared, of battle.

Sighing, the Salvarian spoke again with slitted eyes. “Let’s go greet our guests.”

None spoke, or moved, as he and the others approached the small army. All eyes were trained on them, no-one from the lion-like soldiers so much as glancing toward the cat-folk. Which was, he reckoned, the sole reason for their presence. While darkness now mostly commanded the land, what remained of the dimming half-light was enough for Azaranth to see the displeasure in the lions’ amber-colored eyes.

A maned, armored general stepped forward to meet the four warriors. There was an elegance to the manner in which he carried himself, though it felt awkward, almost as if deliberately stifled in the presence of foreigners. Chin kept high, the feline warrior paused, leaving no less than four paces between him and the shaky entourage.

“Kal chuck na duck.” The creature’s voice was like distant thunder in Azaranth’s ears. “Dee not cors, imot kin A’khim. Dek horst hont lot Kevlarok.” Azaranth followed the warrior’s gesturing hand, his gaze falling on the cat-folk.

Kevlarok… Azaranth paused in thought, then flicked his gaze back to the maned general. “We do not speak your language. We know only Tradespeak.” Azaranth gestured toward him. “Who are you?”

“Imot kin A’khim,” he reiterated, pointing toward himself. “A’khim.”

“Alright, A’khim,” Azaranth nodded. At least you understand me. “I am Anubis,” he said, then made to introduce the others when suddenly a single soldier left the ranks, striding toward the cat-folk with intent, sword in hand.

Azaranth glared at A’khim, who was silent as he watched his soldier with narrowed eyes. Swearing under his breath, the monster-hunter twisted and ran toward the errant lion-man. “Cover me!”

Unmindful of A’khim’s shouting, the Salvarian halted before the lone soldier and halted.

Steel sword ringing as it left its scabbard, Azaranth snarled, “Back off.”

The lion-man bared his fangs in response. “Kit mi koy!”

Screams erupted from behind Azaranth. The soldier growled, bringing his arms up. Cursing, Azaranth side-stepped as the blade bit into the spot he’d just occupied, steadying his grip on his own. The weapon quickly came again, this time from the side, missing his shoulder by a hairbreadth as he stepped out of its way.

There was no chance he could placate the beastly warrior, no time for thought itself - as steel met steel, the shafts skittering along one another. Azaranth barely held underneath the huge sword, muscles straining against the creature’s awesome strength. His resistance wavering, the monster-hunter leaped out of its path as the weapon once more met the earth—

This time without the intention of letting his opponent live—

And if the soldier felt regret, there was no way of telling - for the only thing he felt was the momentary kiss of Azaranth’s sword, a red-colored kiss that spanned his throat from side to side - the creature sputtering and gripping his throat in futile attempt to save himself.

Heaving for breath, Azaranth turned his gaze, meeting the small army that approached to avenge their brother. Whose body spasmed as it met the earth with a heavy thud, the life slowly leaving him as hundreds of weapons left their sheaths.

Oh, balls.

[Tainted Bushido]

Tension filled the air as everyone watched Anubis, looking for the first sign of action. The warriors looked across at their dying brethren, even as the pool of blood stretched across the ground. Taka knew his hand was over the hilt of Rengoku, but stayed his blade for now. His eyes taking in the situation as he observed the leonid warriors.

The conversation had beared fruit beyond what Anubis had done. While he had been stalled by the lingual barrier, it seemed they were not. Either they knew Tradespeak and were purposefully not speaking it, or they could understand but their throat could not speak it. Either way he recognized the way these warriors carried themselves. It was the markings of the superior beings. These warriors were not used to being challenged and their authority was to be absolute.

They acted like the Samurai of Akashima, lording their power over a lower caste. It explained why the cat folk seemed on edge and further why there was so much disdain for the word Kevlarok. These sailors were Kevlarok, and if Taka were to guess they were akin to the peasantry of these people. Which meant the peasants saw fit to warn them about Akashima. It was the move of a truly desperate person, exercising what little power they had.

It all snapped together in an instant and Taka spoke to Gum and Red, “They’re invaders. They don’t want Corone they want Akashima, that’s why these people wanted to talk to me and seemed to recognize the name of my homeland.”

As if to underline his point the leader A’khim seemed to bare his teeth at the sound of Taka’s homeland. Taka knew there was more to it than that, the rune was style a mystery, and one that he was so close to understanding. He looked out over the sea, lanterns lit up on the ships showing more than the three from earlier. It was a veritable fleet. However to march an army across Corone would be suicide, especially without the support of such a fleet, that would have required…

“We had it wrong all along, the nekojin weren’t drawing a rune, they were drawing a map. Of the rivers and outlets into Yanbo Port Harbor. It was meant to line up with a map, to show where we were going to be attacked. I knew I recognized it, not a single member of the Port Guard could have said they graduated without having those very lines burned into their memory,” Taka confessed. He looked to Anubis before looking at the other two, “We need to secure the Nekojin from A’khim so we can find out more of what they know. Perhaps get a court shugenja to translate for us. If they are invading Akashima it’s only a matter of time before they push further inland...and we already know they can.”

Taka drew steele, letting his blade shine in the light of the moon, finally rising over the crest. The scent of the sea comforting him as he prepared himself for battle. He spoke, his voice firm, “Anubis, if they threaten to overwhelm us, run to Gisela and find my second in command. He will know what to do.”

He drew his second blade adding it to the first as Taka dropped into the first stance of the Storm’s Eye Style. His breathing evened, his heart remaining steady as he closed his eyes, then looked upon the Leonid warriors not as potential threats, but as an enemy. His gaze hardened while he waited, daring the first one to begin the dance, and invite him into the fray of battle once more.

[Gum]

A roaring torch seared out of the maritime murk and towards their diverse assemblage. It landed before the body of the invader's slain out-rider. Gum lowered his eyes to the mottled amber light, it made visible the lion-man's gruesome visage. Of all people, the shaman knew something of the majesty of the panther family. Still, he had never before seen such an evolved lion; and yet, he reflected, for all its might, it still fell as a victim of the Salvarian's aptitude. I do not wish to face the scarred man in combat, he thought, admiring the foreigner's clinical prowess. More fire followed, it swept into the Coronian night. The attacking force were launching volley after volley of flares in an effort to illuminate the location where their scout had forged ahead.

With the falling fire, everything was illuminated . . . _{More than just the terrain.}

To the shaman's unease, he watched with dismay as the bandaged Akashiman began unraveling the conspiracy. Gum felt a jolt squeeze his tired old heart and he battled to chasten any outward hint of his distress. This is too soon. We are not ready to strike. Gum wanted to wait until the full complement of bulky cat warriors arrived to slash out at the runaways and their skillful friends. In the privacy of his mind, his panic increased as he watched the Akashiman delegate slot home the final piece of the jigsaw: that his home country was mapped out on the floor before them.

Gum glanced at Red, fishing in the colour of her eyes for any hint of recognition. If she hadn't cottoned on, Gum certainly had, and his worry was that everybody else at the table was just as well informed; the monstrous felines from the boats were coming for Akashima!

The flames from the flares spread through the windswept coastal grass, dry and yellow; and so did his lies, they burned into the night's crooked uncertainty: "We must hasten our journey to Akashima, and warn them of the incoming attack!" In all his days combined, he hadn't perpetrated as much trickery as he did in that one night. For the Xangu native to bring death to them all, he had to persist with the rotten pantomime. His cheeks baked in the glowing heat while he shot his eyes back and forth between the Salvarian and the Akashiman; he was scratching at their exteriors, hoping to uncover any suspicion they might hold for his lies. "They are coming, we must go!" Urgency was the oil for the mechanism of all scam artists.

Red, the Crimson Hand's chosen agent, finally met Gum's dull eyes. The shaman mouthed at her discretely, "Steady. Not yet." She mouthed back, "Why the fuck not?" While they discretely engaged, the others were concerned with the enemy's approach, the flames all around and the recent revelations about their final destination! Under the pressure of their plot's blistering pace, the stoic shaman would have to come to the fore with the same hasty resolution. "I will return," the shaman explained silently, his lips exaggerating each syllable. He then slipped into the flaming undergrowth while only his comrade was watching and the other two were distracted.

The heat of the spreading wildfire was overwhelming the gaunt shaman, his clothes were beginning to ignite. Gum was going to die in the flaming scrub. His dead master, a grand shaman with a strong spirit and stout magic, came from the trees and the rocks and the wind. Do U whispered to Gum, "Transform, Gum." The intensity of the moment took away his focus, as did the dread for his coming crimes. "Death is not the end. The lives you will take tonight will be born again, feel no guilt. The Xangu must persist and our teachings must go on. If you fail tonight, then our nation will fall. Continue!" Gum knew it, he had fallen into the of a role of a cautionary character, recounted since time immemorial; he was a good man under the whimsy of villains.

Gum's flesh rippled, repelling the licking flames. The skin on his body split, and thick fur grew from the tears. Within his body, the bones mangled themselves. At first dour and sorrowful, his eyes grew alive with golden yellow. Holding his hands to his face, he felt his fingers and toes morph into hulking paws with massive claws. His human teeth, suddenly impotent, fell from his jaws and into the mud below; a predator's complement of skull breaking canines and stout marrow crunchers grew to replace them. The old human body that restrained his every step was gone, he had been reborn a jaguar in its prime. He was a true cat, unlike the bastard cat-people surrounding them.

He leapt from the dangerous fire and disappeared further into the bush. From the shadows, he would stalk them, becoming the death he had foreseen.

[Mari]

Amari grimaced as she watched Gum dart off into the wilderness of the woods, the fire was quickly spreading and swallowed up the path he took. It left her alone with most of the rangers, if you excluded those who turned tail and ran, the tiny grovelling cat folk, what appeared to be bloody giant bipedal lions, and their two appointed bodyguards. Well Shit she thought to herself, among other expletives. She didn’t want to deal with all of it. If she had it her way she’d just turn and walk away from the blistering fire, the dramas of politics and the clusterfuck that this mission had become. Unfortunately, her way was not the way. Be damned with what Gum said, he was the one that fucked off into the bushes, it was time to start silencing some folk.

“You.” She gestured toward the man whom had introduced himself as Anubis.”Move the grovelling -” She paused, realising how irate and hostile she had sounded. She cleared her throat and changed her tone to a more authoritative one rather than volatile. “Move the refugees inland, downhill. Fire burns faster uphill.” Amari felt a little proud of herself for knowing that. “Gather the refugees and ensure whatever the fuck they are,” She gestured toward the larger and more aggressive of the creatures. “Don’t get through to the little ones.”

Amari’s tri-coloured eyes turned to Taka, “And you - come with me, we’ll need to talk to the Rangers about clearing a path through the parts of the forest that aren’t engulfed in giant searing flames.”

Taka nodded, but Amari couldn’t tell if he was believing her charade. The red headed woman turned on her heel and quickly headed toward the opposite end of the forest that Gum had entered, with Taka in tow. Her red and violent tendrils of energy flailing wildly behind her, the forest and flora around her began to decay and rot at their very presence

“What are you? No human would cause nature to react like that.” Taka asked as he kept a safe distance behind her.

“Not human.” Amari replied as she paused her stead, they were far enough away from the others now, shielded by the thicket of the decaying forest. “And unfortunately for you, not on your side.” She said as she slid off her leather jacket and gloves, revealing the dark cracked lines that marred her skin, the tips of her fingers were entirely blackened. Now was as good a time as any, she’d have to silence the man to stop any word getting to Akashima.

“What are you-”

Taka was unable to question her further, Amari had turned to ambush him, her tentacles aiming for his limbs as she had gone to jump him.

[Tainted Bushido]

He should have expected this. The woman had killed in cold blood, it should have been easy to tell she would attack. The Ronin chided himself for being left open when the tentacles suddenly seized his arms. He struggled against the bonds, only to find them unlike anything he had ever encountered.
“What are you-”

He felt them tighten even as he tried to bring his weapons to bear against the woman. It was a fight he couldn't win when the pain of contact caused his skin to burn. He didn't let out a cry of pain, but he gurgled as he was held down. The blades leaving his grip as he was brought to the ground.

His sole good eye held no fear, no rage, just a calculated calm. He knew she would explain soon enough the cause of his incarceration.

[Mari]

His words turned into a gargle as Amari leap onto him, pushing him to the floor with her hand clasped tightly over his throat searing his flesh. Her tendrils bore done onto his flesh, wrapping around his limbs. Amari may not be physically strong, she may not be able to wield a weapon but be damned if she didn’t have the upper hand right now. With one hand still on his throat she used the other to rip off his mask, she was mildly surprised at what she saw, his skin was marred with the same black inkiness as hers. Amari broke into bitter laughter at the realisation that the two held more similarities than first thought. “You’re like me!” She exclaimed between her fits of giggles.

“We are not the same, you gave in,” He managed as he struggled against the tendrils.

“SHUT UP!” Amari snapped, as the tendrils around his limbs tightened till cracks were heard and his skin began to bruise and pools of blood formed underneath its fleshy surface. Amari winced as his bones snapped, feeling the same pain as he did. Unlike him however, Amari had dealt with the pain on a daily basis, with her Masters bone manipulation and shared masochism techniques. Amari grit her teeth and pushed the pain down so she could continue.

“There is still time for you. You haven't completely given up…” he struggled against the tendrils even as he hissed in pain. His voice remained even as he gritted his teeth, “Stop this, if you join me, we can put an end to senseless slaughter and save lives.”

“No, there isn’t. Payment has been made, the lives of others don’t matter, hell, our lives don’t matter.” Amari leaned down sneering at him as he struggled to speak. “This is business, Taka, you being part of the Ixian Knights is just a bonus, I’ll be sure to send Master Ulroke your regards.”

His eyes took on a sad almost pitying look before he closed them and bared his throat, “Stop toying with my life. Give me the warrior’s end and be done with this. You were right, you are lost, and you refuse to be found.”

“That’s no fun~” She quipped. Amari paused as her jeering face fell away to a more solemn one. “I’m so damn sick and tired of people telling me that. You have no idea who I am, what gives you the fuckin’ right to judge?” She tightened her grip on his throat, and he was unable to answer her between gasps of air. His eyes began to water and become bloodshot.

“You know..” She spoke quietly as she watched him struggle to breathe. “I met an Akashiman woman once, Master Ulroke had enslaved her and her sisters, not many survived. I told her once, if I could make it up to her I would. I suppose today is your lucky day.” Despite her words she refused to lessen the pressure on his trachea. “You’ll live, barely.” She said dully, “but you won’t be talking. My debt to Akashima, and it’s people are repaid.” She watched as his struggles gave way and his body fell limp, Amari checked to see if he was still breathing, his chest slowly rose and fell. Good.

Amari pried open his mouth and with her fingers glowing a soft red, she cut his tongue using her own fingers in a scissor motion, she quickly cauterised the wound and tossed the useless piece of flesh to the side. Amari stood and wiped the blood from her hands onto her pants.

’One down, one to go, Gum better have made some progress.’

Amari made her way back to the clearing, to say it was utter chaos was an understatement. Swords clashed and the ground was splattered with blood from rangers and catfolk alike. Shrill clicks and chitters rose over the sounds of the roaring flames. “Fuck me…” Amari muttered as she headed toward the fighting.

“Where’s Taka!?”

Amari turned to Anubis and shrugged, there was no longer reason to hide their objective. “Dead. Probably.” She turned to a nearby cat creature who was shaking one of its fallen brethren.She wrapped her hand around it’s tiny throat, a red glow formed and a sickening snap was heard. The creature fell over its deceased comrade. Dead.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“My job. If you don’t want to suffer the same fate, I suggest you and the rangers get the fuck out of my way.” Amari said dully, glancing at her hand and noticing the black marks on her fingertips were slowly travelling further up her fingers. It seemed her actions as of late held more consequences than she realised. Amari didn’t have time to worry about it right now though, she was in the middle of a battlefield. Another cat creature came at her, and in the same fashion as the first, it too had fallen to the floor. Amari winced and she felt nauseous. Still, she had to continue.

The refugees would not survive tonight and Akashima would remain blissfully ignorant.

[Fez_The_Kid]

Spires of smoke rose to foul the night sky, the wall of fire slowly reducing the surrounding bush to ash. The half-ring of flame was like an abandoned, glowing bastion of the sun on this fateful night. The night that marked the beginning of the demise of a small kingdom, and the birth of something else. Distant. Menacing.

Azaranth stepped back from the flames. The heat that left the quickly growing wildfire had sweltered him in his bloodied undershirt. He stood motionless among the bodies of the dead and dying, disbelieving what he’d just been witness to.

Even with the Rangers’ help, it had been almost nothing short of suicide to engage this many of the enemy. After all, the sides' expertise played little part in deciding a battle when there were mere scores against a hundred. As could ascertain the many fallen greencloaks, it usually led to nothing but death.

And the fact that his only reliable comrade was now presumed dead had engendered angst in the monster-hunter. His chances of survival upon hearing the news had grown significantly slim.

For it was clear as day now; neither Amari nor Gum, who had suspiciously disappeared, were to be trusted. Plans to investigate the pair of warships had led to battling those who helmed them, all in defense of a sulky group of an alien race. He had never agreed to defend these so-called Kevlarok, or meddle in international affairs. And even had he the choice - in retrospect - he would not have accepted this undertaking.

Alas, there was little he could do now.

Turning to a nearby greencloak, Azaranth spoke, “Hold them off. I’ll round up these guys and escort them somewhere safer.”

The woman's elven face creased when she narrowed her eyes. As if doubtful of his intentions. “Go.”

He turned, then paused. At this moment he noticed that this was the woman going by the name of Taicho Nadiliya. “You know you won’t survive this.”

She grinned. “Not the worst way to go, is it?”

Azaranth studied the bloodied brunette for a moment, felt something sharp in his chest. He nodded, then turned away, blinking quickly.

And so the remaining, thinned ranks of Kev warriors seethed as they shifted where they stood, bloodied weapons glinting in the firelight. Outnumbered and exhausted, the few remaining Rangers stepped forth to match the lion-warriors. A grimace stealing across his features, Azaranth edged toward the contracted mass of servant Kevlarok. Ignoring the meaningless pleas and tugs at what remained of his armored trenchcoat, Azaranth found the same Kev that had drawn a map of Akashima.

“Kal chuck! Kal chuck!” it implored, gripping his wounded arm.

Azaranth winced, yet did not shake off the clingy cat-person. He studied the creature’s eyes, eyes that were filled with not fear, but desperation. “I don’t understand. I need you to follow. Tell everyone. Follow... away from this place—”

“Nit! Nit! Kal chuck!” The Kev’s grip hardened, shaking his arm as its plea intensified. “Gorst ni tut Akashima!” Its grip weakened slightly, “Akashima!” it repeated, finally releasing him.

Recognition ripping through him, Azaranth was silent as he let the words register in the storm that was his mind. Somehow, some way, he could understand what this Kev requested - if not from the name of the sole nation this group so wished to help, then from the powerful look in its eyes. He could not tell how, nor why. But the pieces of the puzzle simply fell in place.

“Akashima,” Azaranth nodded. “Go, Kevlarok… in peace.”

The Kev’s face calmed as if it too understood him, tail flicking. Giving a firm nod, the monster-hunter twisted, and, sparing a glance at the skirmishing greencloaks, sheathed his sword and jogged down and away from the battlefield, where was the edge of the inland forest and the beginning of the merchant trail to the nearby city of Gisela.

Taka. You’d better still be alive.

[Gum]

Gum had become another feline figure in the night; and while the shadow and flame obscured him from sight, that cover couldn't hide from him his own conscience. While Red didn't know it, he had moved through the brush and followed along with her, witnessing with frustration her gung-ho approach. From the crackling woods, he had snarled at her crude assault of Taka, the innocent and dutiful Akashiman. She had done what he had been afraid to do: make the attack without overwhelming odds. His partner's words, "This is business, Taka," had caused the fur on the back of his neck to bristle; it chilled him even against the heat of the wildfire. Watching a man defending the independence of his nation like that struck a sorrowful chord for the Xangu native and his inner tumult deepened. As Red left Taka almost dead, Gum wondered to himself, would it really be the end of my people if I turned against Senator Fordstein's wishes? Does he really command that kind of power? I fear I would not be able to defeat Red nonetheless.

A foreboding thunderhead rolled ashore, its broad and heavy expanse closed over the dying sun and provided the final black of night. The ultimate arrival of the hulking lionkin and the battle that ensued provided Gum his cue to emerge from cover. Crouched, his triangle ears pinned back and his tail twitching with excitement, he was watching and waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on his victim. Before him, playing out against the backdrop of fire, blood and thunder, was a lonely encounter; a brutal lion reared back, showing its bare barrel chest to a plucky ranger, who himself was pouring all his might into the tight grip of a shield and sword. Between the two combatants, whimpering on the floor, was one of the meek form of a shriveled refugee. The lion drove forward, swinging a deadly battle axe at the devout ranger.

At that moment, Gum leapt from the bushes and and made a choice he would have to carry forever. He pinned his victim to the ground, the weight of his feline form pushing his enemy face first into the dirt. The thunder broke and the rain poured; the fire all around hissed. The jaguar shaman sank his jaws into his prey's skull, piercing the brain; it was a trademark kill. Gum had chosen, he murdered the lowly refugee while both the ranger and the lionkin reeled and watched. I must do this. I must secure the support of Senator Fordstein, otherwise my people will perish. Gum released his bite and let the limp body fall into the mud. The lion-warrior moved to stand beside Gum, his fellow feline. It seemed as though the invaders had been expecting a jaguar's arrival all along.

Together, the lion-man and the jaguar squared off against the lonely greencloak while the refugee's blood ran fresh and pink, swirling in the puddles. Livid at the complications of foreigners and his homeland being invaded, the ranger rushed against the odds and lunged at the two beasts opposing him. Gum slid in the mud, trying to dodge the attack, but instead felt a stout shield bash to the head. With a frustrated grunt, the lion shook his healthy mane; it was as if the ranger's attack was an unnecessary bother. "Rack, rack! O dukt, gerg." The lion's words were maddeningly exotic to Gum, but he nevertheless knew exactly why his ally was frustrated: the greencloaks weren't in on the plan. They were defending their homeland, as was their duty. Then, without warning, the lion-man stretched out his heavy paw at the head of the ranger who was steadying for a sword swing. Holding his foe's head in his paw, the lion lifted the ranger off the ground and jolted him back and forth. With a broken neck, the ranger fell to the floor and the leonid bellowed with content.

Squelch! Gum knew the sound of metal entering flesh. He twisted his long body to see another ranger, whose face was speckled with warm blood. The jaguar's ally fell to the ground, slumping next to the runaway's lifeless corpse; there was a sword jammed deep in the lion's back. Taking a few steps backwards, the shaman tried to put some distance between himself and this second greencloak trying to attack him. Eye contact, he thought, could maybe clear the air; after all, Gum could not speak while he was in jaguar form. Shaking his big cat head, Gum thought he was free to plea with the ranger since the ranger's weapon was still jammed hilt-deep in the dead lion. His confidence was misplaced. The ranger pulled a knife from his boot and launched at Gum, tackling the big cat to the ground. Gum heard that same sickening noise, the sound of sharp metal slicing into flesh. Then the sting of pain. The ranger had plunged a dagger into Gum's rear thigh.

It was the pulse of shock from the wound that fueled Gum's transformation, he turned back into a human before the greencloak's eyes. Recognising Gum as a friend, the ranger jumped to his feet and backed away from the wounded shaman.

"Help me to my feet, please." His calm words were juxtaposed on the canvas of a storming battlefield.

The greencloak obliged, "Sir, I had no idea it was you. I apologise." After helping Gum to his feet, the greencloak stumbled back and realised something, "Are you a traitor?!"

"No," said the shaman. "Red and I are acting on orders from Senator Fordstein himself. The agenda to stop the other two and the refugees is the agenda of the cooperating nations of Radasanth, Gisela and Serenti. We are moving against Akashima."

"What?!" begged the ranger, his thoughts spun with anger at the unnecessary deaths of his friends

"Yes," conceded the shaman, "Spread the word amongst the remaining rangers—stand back and let the lions through on their way to Akashima."

"Y-Y-Yes, of course," stuttered the ranger.

"Fordstein said there will be medals in it for all of you."