((Closed to Fez the Kid. Permission has been granted by Fez for me to use my level two profile, which has subsequently been approved by Tobias. I already have enough experience to be level two, but I await the physical addition of owed exp to my account.))
Radasanth
One day ago
10pm
The famous Drum and Monkey Tavern was located in the centre of Radasanth, deep within the winding labyrinth of filthy alleyways and grotty passages that comprised the inner workings of the city. It was a crooked, quaint and almost decrepit sort of building, barely propped up by its cracked limestone walls and just about protected from the elements by a brittle slate roof that looked as if it had been held together with tape and spit. Almost any time someone slammed the heavy front door, fragments of splintered shale tile would rain down over the pavement and pepper the vermin scurrying in the gutter below.
Yet, despite its apparent structural poverty, the tavern still boasted a healthy turn out. Through the bird-shit stained glass windows, a handful of oil lanterns burned brightly and the shadows of their patrons jigged merrily about in the night. A chorus of drunken cheers leapt from the crevices of the doors, sending a shiver down the spines of those passing by. These types of back alley inns, traditionally, tended to play host to all sorts of sneaky, low down scum.
Shinsou Vaan Osiris had gone looking for trouble. Once again he found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time, but this time he was being unusually pro-active about it whilst his associate Bane Stark coolly watched events unfold from the comfort of the bar. The former emperor of Telgradia, with golden eyes locked firmly on his prey, held the cold edge of Enpera steadily against the jugular vein of the stubby gentleman standing in front of him and, for the final time, challenged the poison dwarf.
“This is the last time I’ll ask. Where is Anubis of Skavia?”
Before any sort of information could be extracted from the patron, a bystander and friend of the offending man decided to clear up any misunderstanding about the reputation of the tavern Shinsou was frequenting. Soon, a wooden bar stool found a whole new purpose as it was launched an admirable distance across the tavern’s breadth before colliding with the back of Shinsou’s skull. The former emperor’s legs folded underneath him, a trickle of blood forking down the back of his pale neck as he fell, and the dwarf went for him.
“I ain’t tellin’ you shit!” The dwarf screamed in Shinsou’s dazed face as he pinned him to the rickety wooden floor, throwing a balled fist into his right cheek. The Telgradian’s head recoiled horribly off the wooden, sticky beer soaked planks that made up the floor.
Everything was fuzzy around the edges. The blow to his head hadn’t done him much good, but Shinsou was still holding his sword, and although he wasn’t in the mood for slaughtering innocents the Telgradian wasn’t partial to getting gang beatings either. Deciding actions were louder than screaming idiots, the bruised man kicked the floor to his left, pushing momentum onto his side, and log rolled with his miserable mount to his right. With a deft thrust forward, Shinsou’s blade slid neatly between the folds of flesh covering the dwarf’s kneecaps. The dwarf cried out in horror while Shinsou, bloodied and beaten, challenged the other patrons with a cold stare, his sword still stuck in his victim. They backed off from around him and his new hostage slowly.
“Oh dear, what a predicament you appear to have gotten yourself into! One twist of my wrist and that nasty looking wound isn’t closing anytime soon.” Shinsou announced with a great deal of smugness tucked away in his voice, gesturing dizzily towards the tip of Enpera. “Now, I asked you a question, and I’m losing patience. Where is Anubis of Skavia?!”
It took less than twenty seconds to get the full story, get the blade out of the dwarf’s leg and get the hell out of the tavern.
The night’s air was bitterly cold for this time of year. Even wrapped in the thick of his trademark white greatcoat and a smattering of thick clothing underneath, the wind chill seemed to cut through Shinsou like an icy, serrated knife as he stood with Bane on the cracked alleyway pavement some minutes away from the chaotic scene they had left behind.
The Telgradian wiped the dwarf’s blood from the flat to the tip of Enpera with a white rag. It was well known that a sword’s worst enemy was rusting, and it was important to ensure that his weapon was well maintained at all times. Shinsou took considerable care to ensure he wasn’t taking any chances with his. Blood had a surprisingly adverse effect on weaker metals and, as it turned out, he would be relying on his weapon a lot from then on. With this in mind carefully sheathed the clean blade into its ivory and marble sheath, neatly lashed to the inside of his greatcoat, and turned to face Bane, who was smirking to himself.
“What?” Shinsou enquired grumpily.
“You, boy,” Bane chortled to himself, pressing an accusing finger into Shinsou’s chest “are quite the handful. You lose one poxy, meaningless fight to some pale-faced adventurer you’ll probably never meet again, and you’re baying for blood! What’s wrong with you man? Get a grip for fuck’s sake, it’s embarrassing.”
The sound of Shinsou’s response rang heavily in Bane’s ears, and echoed through the straight alley with a granulated ambience.
“Once again, Bane, you’ve missed the point!” Shinsou hissed. “This isn’t about pride. This is about rebuilding not just my power, but my life. I will never be able to have a future if I can’t take control of the present, and I can’t do that if everyone around me is getting stronger whilst I mill around and let my ambition atrophy. I want to start by fighting Anubis again, not because he defeated me but because he’s young, hungry and determined, and I need that kind of fight right now.”
Shinsou brushed aside a bang of brown hair and stiffened his arms, straightening his back as he did. Bane sighed, resting his hands on his hips and shaking his head.
“Fine, boy. If you think it will help you, I’ll try to set up the fight. Let me put the word out through my contacts. I'll let you know what comes back.”
With that, Bane started edging towards the direction of the main road. Two child shaped blurs bolted past him and disappeared ahead, laughing as they played together. Shinsou turned, paid one last glance to the narrow corridor behind him, and paced in the opposite direction.
There was only one thing on his mind.
The Citadel
Present day
The cylindrical wall of the interior of the Citadel’s portal rippled and crackled as the plasma like substance comprising it bent to the monk’s every whim. Anomalies morphed and swirled in front of Shinsou’s face before screaming into a whirling orbit of white orbs. As this acidic, liquefied existence began to congeal into something resembling reality, the man from Telgradia tried hard to keep the contents of his stomach exactly there, hoping that the arena would take shape sooner rather than later.
As the twisting, stomach-churning nightmare came to an end, suddenly everything faded to black. Shinsou knew his eyes were open, yet he could see nothing. He couldn’t feel anything either. Not his hands, his feet, his arms or legs. There were no sounds. He couldn’t feel the temperature of this new place, or even feel a heartbeat in his own chest. Everything in his mind told him he should be naturally expecting these feelings, yet they were absent.
The monk had done it.
I don’t believe it, Shinsou mused, he actually emulated Kokushi’s seventh level. How is that even possible?
Putting his astonishment aside, Shinsou knew what to expect next, but the process would take a few moments. A cold prickling sensation spread over the top of his right foot. It was slight, at first, but grew more potent with every second, quickly reaching his ankle and the bottom of his shins. A murky purple began to seep through the darkness towards him. He could feel the same cold needles he felt on his feet before sweep across his face as the black void peeled away from him. An ambient purple light slowly revealed his surroundings to him.
The room, if you could call it a room, was smothered in a dense lilac mist that rolled over a dark granite floor and cascaded down from a cracked, mossy stone ceiling thirty foot above. There seemed to be no walls. There was just an expanse of void that stretched on far beyond what the eye could render, obscured by the thick steam-like substance pouring down from above and columns of black and grey marble that jutted out of the floor at ten foot intervals. As the feeling returned to his face, Shinsou could begin to taste a familiar electricity in the air, a static charge that curdled the blood and left an awful metallic aftertaste on his tongue. Then suddenly, although muffled at first, sounds began to erupt around him.
The hissing of steam and the snapping of an electrical current echoed around the room, whilst the sound of his breathing and even his heartbeat pounded through his head.
Unlike the last time he had experienced Kokushi’s seventh, and most dangerous, level, Shinsou’s senses had returned to him hastily. He remembered disdainfully how he had awoken here after having his soul stripped forcibly from his body, and his identity all but erased from existence. This place was harsh on all living things that fell into its jurisdiction, designed to torture to within a modicum of death before healing its victims to start the cycle all over again. The former emperor of Telgradia had been no exception either. Now, though, he could now feel everything below his neck and above his feet. A few seconds more, and all his senses would be in perfect working order.
This was unusual for Kokushi.
Perhaps it was was too difficult to emulate, even for one of the Citadel's own Shinsou pondered to himself, surveying the scenery around him. After all, this prison was meant for much worse than me. It would be a gargantuan task indeed to replicate its power.
It was then that Shinsou noticed his throat was starting to become dry and was burning from inhaling some of the electrically charged mist. As his lungs struggled to cope with the dense, searing haze, Shinsou made his way fifty paces north to a part of the ethereal room where the creamy lilac mist had thinned.
Here, he would wait for Anubis to show up.
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