The District Sleeps...(Closed)

[Lillith]

...Alone Tonight (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Txl5qkq-76E)

http://www.hanga.com/artists/ito-shinsui/images/plum.jpg


Set some months after The Quelling of the Mist (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?25942-The-Quelling-Of-The-Mist-(Closed)).

Closed to Lye.

[Lillith]

Prologue

The village of Hallow was asleep the moment dusk had fallen. Midnight teemed with immensity. In a seafront-facing lounge, Lady Lillith Kazumi and Nekojin Kahoka discussed urgent matters.

“We can’t let this go, Neko,” she hissed. Her words softened through a mouthful of tea and tempura.

The nekojin considered how best to reply. He set his cup onto the table, shuffled his feet uneasily into a lotus position, and rested his paws on his lap.

“I fear your judgement is clouded, Lillith-sama.” Immediately, he realised his mistake.

“Wanting to save my sisters is ‘clouded?’” she snapped.

The tension in the room grew exponentially. By the candlelight’s glow, feline features soured, and the geisha’s face took on a mantle of dominance. Her pallid make-up, a passage through the diplomatic beurocracy of her changing home, danced with ethereal grace.

“No, Lillith-Sama,” Neko replied flatly. He averted his gaze.

“After all we have been through,” she continued, raising a glass, “gods and monsters, we cannot let our citizens be taken as slaves.”

They continued to dine in silence. They ploughed feverishly through prawn, soya sauce, and udon noodles. The trek north through the narrow pass in the mountains, a back route into Akashima, had taken three days of almost endless marching. Laden with such lavish cloth, and wearing overbearingly high geta, Neko had to wonder how Lillith had endured for so long. She, despite all he had seen of her in the war, continued to impress.

“…I just think.” He ended his sentence to gauge her demeanour after ten minutes had passed. She sighed, lowered her chopsticks, and waited. “I just think we need to ensure we are…focussed.”

Lillith looked into Neko’s glistening eyes, and smiled.

“My intention with this operation is simple.” She swallowed the remaining food in her mouth, licked her lips without smudging the ink, and set the chopsticks on the rest without a sound. “I am going to rescue the women of Kya District. I am going to ensure no further business takes place in this borders. I am going to not, not kill Lichensith Ulrika.”

“Ulroke,” Neko corrected.

Lillith chuckled.

“I am beginning to think this is less about my mannerisms, and more about you’re proving yourself to me.” She sighed. “You needn’t, Neko. You are my protégée no more. You are a free spirit, held in this form by a purpose only the Elder Kami can divine.” Satisfied she was full; she pushed her bowl away.

“My purpose is to keep you safe,” he confirmed with a dry tone. He, still hungry, took to wasabi seaweed and king prawn rolls. “There is nothing else for me.” His pensive expression made Lillith think.

“I do not need babysitting,” she expressed. She gestured to the room. A small rectangular chamber, it had once been home to Hallow’s mayor, before a Ronin attack had shifted the village from feudal relic to beurocracy fishing town. “I watched the mayor die here. I have seen Akashima pulled apart, and put back together again. I would not make a careless mistake now, so close to realising that dream.”

They were, indeed, very close. Capitol city had prepared the Jade Palace for the country’s first democratic election. In recent weeks, the districts, five in all, had elected their own representatives. Of those five, two become prime minister and senate chair come the end of the spring. It was, for all the people of ‘Corone’s Little Sister’, an exciting and nervous time. Lillith was not about to be careless now.

“I just wish you would reveal more of your intent so that we are… ‘On the level’.” He stumbled over the colloquialism, despite his attempts to speak in Tradespeak and with more authenticity in Lillith’s company. Outside of Akashiman, he was treading on thin literacy ground.

Lillith smiled broadly, poured them both more sake, and set the cups onto the tea light grill to warm. The terracotta bases blackened and swirled with spirals of heat. Whispers of the Doragun vintage trailed up into the thatch.

“If you’re worried I am going to hurt this ‘Crimson Hand’,” she pursed her lips. Her heart told her to reveal her wishes to her companion, but her head, ever strong, barred the way. “You should be.” She smirked. “I will not, however, kill him. These organisations can do as they wish with the lands beyond the Comb Mountains and the Jagged Peaks.”

“…But Mistress!” Neko whelped.

With a wave of her hand, she silenced his protestation.

“…But here, in my homeland…they will pay the price of the Shogunate Law.” Though the laws of the old ways were swift becoming defunct, the Shogunate oft made example of slavers and Ronin, in a very public and undignified manner. Come spring’s end, Lillith Kazumi proposed to shame all men who had dared to touch her sisters.

She sipped the sake after several awkward minutes of silence. Neko, resigning himself to yet another life-threatening endeavour, forwent convention and downed the glass in one gulp.

“I’ll pack your furs for the tundra,” he swooned.

[Lye]

"Move them along!" A voice shouted over the rattle of chains. Lines of exotic women, inappropriately clad in silks to barely stave off the winter's bite, trudged through powder of a small encampment just outside the border town of Archen. Several tents had been prepared and men clothed in dirty furs and tanned hides busied about. In the makeshift road arrived an open wagon.

"These are the future concubines?" a robed figure inquired as he approached a transport which trailed several freezing geisha.

"Yes," the driver responded with a foggy puff. "They arrived to th' mainland two weeks ago. They're not built for th' trek, sir. We need 'nother method of transport."

The shrouded character peered into the back of the wagon upon the bodies of either the unconscious, dead, or dying huddled together under furs and linens. Their fair skin showed signs of frostbite, and those of which that had expired were a tinge of blue.

"When they could walk no further, we put 'em back there. Might 'ave lost a few," the ruffian continued, hopping down from his reins.

"I can see that," the hood of the winter cowl swept back with the aid of a gloved hand. Underneath, platinum strands of hair, white as the tundra at his boots, escaped into the icy breeze. "Before we loose more, take down one of those tents and fashion a canopy for them. In the meanwhile, get the living to the hearth, let them warm. See if they'll eat - just enough to sustain them to Archen."

"And th' dead?"

"I'll have some of the others haul them off into the wilds so the beasts can do away with the bodies."

"Understood."

The assassin gave him a nod of affirmation, pacing to the ones that could barely stand, yet refused to sit in the loose powder in fear of losing more precious body heat. His warm, gloved hand lifted to embrace one of the Akashiman's chins. She pulled away as he neared, forcing the gentle approach to become hostile and grip her with a stifled peep. Lye could feel her attempt to resist as he inspected her features.

"A fighter. I like that," he commented. "I know many men that would pay to like that as well..."

His green eyes drew close to hers and the tremble from frost quickened upon her.Eyes flushed red as if to cry, but the tears never came. Lye smiled at her resilience, and loosed her from his grasp. Her knees buckled, but she did not fall. The others watched in silence, their faces blank with what he could only imagine was pain, exhaustion, and despair.

"You are no longer free women, but you can earn your freedom from those shackles," he spoke to them all as his men tended to their relocation. "You will be whores, and your bodies sold to whomever desires. Resist, and I can assure that you will be broken by your new master. Flee, and you will find an early grave. You have no home to return to and your past lives are no more. The sooner you embrace this, the quicker you will know comfort."

They were unresponsive, which was to be expected, but his words were specifically intended for those who had not already given in and clung to that last little bit of hope. He was sure whichever of those did not speak the common tongue would be quickly informed by those that did. Their dragging of chain was nearly musical to him, and was one of the only perks that made overseeing the operation tolerable. He was not in the business of trafficking lives, but ending them. Still, a leader has their responsibilities.

"Sir, when should we depart?" asked the burly driver, watching his cargo tend to the warmth of flames and abandon all etiquette in the presence of food.

"As soon as you have prepared cover for them," Lye replied sternly. "They cannot pass into the city the same way you brought them here. I will notify Aurelianus to your arrival by raven. His contacts will get you past the gates of Archen. From that point, you will relinquish the responsibility to him. They will be his to do with as he pleases."

His associate hesitated, knowing far well that the pace was not only brutal for the girls, but for the guard traveling with them. He was met with the piercing stare of his superior and offered a silent nod of understanding.

"The sooner we get the devil what he needs, the sooner we can move onto more important matters."

"Understood." The two broke their separate ways as bodies continued to bustle about in the tundra. Lye made his way past the future whores of Knife's Edge and he caught a glimpse of defiant eyes upon his person. The girl he personally inspected traced his every move and from the corner of his eyes he traced hers. His steps fell silent as he paused to the entrance of the command tent. He turned to face her and she held fast, locking gaze with him. Lye's blood began to simmer with the thrill of the unspoken challenge. His eyes narrowed and a grin plastered his scarred face.

"You there," the assassin called out to one of the ruffians tending to the maidens. He halted his task and approached in question. "That girl," Lye pointed to his visual combatant, "She stays here. She will be entertainment for you and the men tonight. If she screams, stifle her. I'm sure you can figure a way."

"Aye sir. Thank you, sir." The thug produced a cheshire grin from ear to ear.

"Off with you, make sure the others don't freeze to death."

He nodded and returned to his task, whispering and jeering to the others passing by. The men took to the news like dogs, circling the prey they would soon feast upon. She must have known some of the common tongue or at least caught onto the gist of the situation, because her stoic demeanor immediately degraded into bewilderment and fear.

The assassin loosed a sinister chuckle and disappeared to the safety of his quarters.

[Lillith]

Men were easy to manipulate. Lillith knew this all too well. She had served in okiyas in Tokyun, Capitol, and Yanbo. Her home village had taught her to sing her way into a man’s heart. The capital city had taught her that men, especially the pigs amongst them, would wallow in mud without much effort. Yanbo men were honourable and dedicated. They taught her that tea, dance, and conversation doth intimacy make.

With a grunt, she retreated from Lye. The fact he had been so close, for so long, was becoming a problem. She pictured Neko chiding her for losing her calm so easily. He would have twitched his whiskers at her furiously until she apologise, for no reason, for being ‘human’.

“<I swear to Hu Tian>,” she mumbled carefully. The evocation of the head of the Kami pantheon brought her courage. Her momentary fever beneath Lye’s glare faded.

“What was that?” a nearby ‘ruffian’ barked. Lillith smelt him long before he appeared in her field of vision.

“I…,” she stuttered deliberately to fake fear. It was so easy to put on a face they wanted to see. As soon as they saw it, they were hers to mould, shape, and corrupt.

“I thought as much.” He raised his hand to strike her.

In a whirlwind of aggression, tension, and skill, Lillith rotated and punched three times. The first struck his abdomen, cowing him low. The second knocked his sword from his hand, bestowing an out upon her, should she need it. The third, expertly timed, struck his chin.

Those captives fortunate enough to see her act found new hope. They relocated their goals. They rekindled their dreams. The snow fell thicker around the assassin as she stood upright. With elegant steps, she mounted the dazed guard. She leant in close, so much so her breath froze on his flush cheeks.

“You…thought…nothing…,” she whispered coarsely.

Her words were sedition in his mind. Between the blood, belittling, and the boisterous manner of his comeuppance he made one decision worthy of his lacklustre station. He was done with slavery. Her heel in his throat reiterated the point she was trying to make. When she was done here today, no woman born in Akashima would suffer the cold. No woman, if she had anything to do with it, would be ‘broken’ by men with nought to their name but gold.

She moved away, pulled up her hood, and disappeared into darkness.

[Lye]

The comfort of his quarters did little to stave off the sub zero temperatures, but the hearth centrally located under the canvas was a different story. Furs of various animals littered the ground as a makeshift barrier between feet and moist, black soil. He tread upon them to the war table at the far end of his quarters. He took a seat, looking down at the parchment which displayed a crudely illustrated map of Salvar. His gaze ran over the lines which indicated trade routes, scouting patterns, and areas of interest. He could not lift his eyes from one specific route - the one he was on.

"I'm wasting time hauling whores when we could be making more progress in Knife's Edge," he muttered in frustration to the calm whisper of the winds. The scowl he wore seemed frozen to his lips at this point. If the half-demon wasn't such an asset, he would have dismissed his antics much sooner. Unfortunately, his fingers were in every honey pot, and his influence reached into some of the more troublesome organizations Lye could not infiltrate. Still, his disgust did not wane.

This discontent was suddenly broken by the shrills of Akashiman women and roars of underlings. He snapped from his thoughts and kicked off his seat. His blades found their way to his grip as he burst from the folds of his tent. Some men were running off to the woods while others struggled to control the women which now seemed invigorated to resist captivity. A fire began to burn in the assassin's veins.

"What the hell is going on here?!" he roared as his feet carried him to the struggling chain of women.

"One of 'em got away!" cried one of the thugs as a slender hand raked across his face. His club of a fist bludgeoned the broad in the side of the head with excessive force, knocking her to the cold tundra.

"Which one?" Lye commanded.

"Th' one you wanted to keep," the lackey replied, lifting the stunned geisha by her hair. She winced, but stifled her screams, letting thin, pale fingers grip at the giant's clasp upon her. "Athous 'nd Ordvick went after 'er. Skinny bitch like that'll not get far."

"Doesn't matter if she does. These wilds will claim what they cannot," the killer replied with a hint of aggravation in his tone. "If they bring her back alive, let all the men have a go then slit her throat in front of the others."

The exotic woman struggled to free herself from her captor, again trying to use her nails and flailing feet to inflict harm. She found reprieve in striking him in the scrotum to which his grip was loosed in exchanged for a hoarse growl. The man doubled over, and the captive attempted to double time her pace away from them. Lye was quick to respond, casting his titanium blade at the chains which dragged behind her. The sword found home in the soil just after sliding through an iron link. The chain snapped taught and ripped the makeshift anchor free at the expense of toppling the girl to the snow. His feet were swift, his hand performed a feat of dexterity, and before the escapee could rise, his thrown blade pressed against her neck.

A free hand fixed her into a restrained position with a foot upon hers and knee keeping the leg bent.

"Did I not make myself clear earlier?" he hissed.

He could feel her blood pump from exertion. The clouds of breath left her lungs in rapid succession. With each heave of her chest, small but ample breasts pushed into his arms. She was trapped, helpless, and afraid. This look of terror... it was beautiful. The assassin chuckled.

He slipped the blade from her neck, and left a small cut which began to brim with red. His blade was replaced with a gloved hand, and he raised her light frame from the ground.

"I assume you would like this one to pay for your pain?" Lye inquired to the recently crippled thug. The chokes and wheezes for air fueled his own eroticism as hands struggled to claw their way to freedom. His comrade did not reply, but the anger welling on his brow was more than needed. While her struggles began to dwindle, the assassin took his blade to her clothes. He cut the sash from her waist, the kimono from her body, the corset from her bosoms, and the underwear from her waist. He robbed her of her clothes and held a dying Akashiman in his suspended grip. Her arms grew slack and eyes began to roll back.

"Beat her, defile her, then kill her," Lye commanded. His arm tensed and the girl was free form his grasp only to find home in the snow and mud near the fire. Faint coughs and gasps emanated from her pale, nude form. The thug, now recovering from his groin injury, lodged a foot into her stomach. She did not shriek, nor react for that matter. She took the blow with tears in her eyes and curled to a fetal position, trying protect what dignity she had left. The thug spit upon her.

"As for the rest of you!" Lye shouted of the commotion of others in the fray. "Get these whores under control and make them watch this one die. I told them that fleeing meant death. They will know this is not a threat, but a guarantee."

A few of them who could afford the luxury of divided attention affirmed his command. The others struggled with the captives' new found hope. To think of these women as weak was a mistake, but they would be broken - psychologically or physically if necessary.

"If the others return with the one responsible for this, notify me. I will tend to her demise myself," the assassin stated to the man who currently focused on loosing trousers from his waist.

"Yes, sir," he responded, exposing himself.

Lye turned to his quarters before witnessing what was surely next to transpire. His face was once again sour with disgust. While the folds of canvas sealed him in his quarters, the screams and grunts of defiled flesh joined the choir of chaos.

[Lillith]

“You are playing a dangerous game, Lillith-sama.”

Neko’s cold, unfettered warning danced through the clearing. The nekojin’s fur steamed, his breath congealed, and his eyes glazed in the twilight.

“Am I?” the assassin replied sharply. Her own body gave off heat after their brisk run through the copses and clearings of the wilds. Their flight from the slave camp had been dangerous enough, and now they were at the whims of Salvar’s bleak and perilous wilderness.

Neko nodded. “Why did you have to ‘be with your sisters’?”

It was a genuine enough question. Their original plan had been to attack the convoy in the Ahyark pass. There, the ninja brethren from Akashima would repay the favours they owed Lillith from her days as a daughter of the southern provinces. They would have made short work of the chauvinistic guard that Lye Ulroke kept for comrades.

“I wanted to see his face.” Her red hair danced with passion. The painted face, smudged by mistreatment remained stoic and mask like. It hid the turmoil churning away in Lillith’s soul.

“His face?” Neko repeated with disgust. He rose from his haunches and padded around to Lillith’s front. He stood three feet away from her, stared into her eyes, and snarled. “You let those women die, for a vendetta?”

“I let nobody die, Neko. Don’t dare besmirch my intentions with your primal morals!”

Snow fell. Lights danced in the skeletal branches. Breath condensed into prangs of remorse. Lillith frowned. She began to breathe heavily through fatigue, and not adrenaline. She was in the wrong. She wronged. She was confused.

“I am sorry,” she half-whimpered.

Neko was half in his mind to lash out at her. A claw mark to her cheek would have done wonders for her ego.

“I do not want to die pursuing your zeal,” he remarked. He lowered onto his haunches again, and padded the soft, strangely warm snow.

Calmly, Lillith folded her arms across her chest. Her torn obi remained dignified against the bleak backdrop. Gold thread, though pulled and cut, enshrouded her with some resemblance of reality. Amidst the arid landscape, she and Neko were gems in the dark.

“You’re already dead,” she chuckled.

Neko sniffled. His nose twitched. He peered at her from down low. That was true enough. He was technically dead. That did not make the threat of dying again any dimmer.

“Very well, I do not wish to die twice.” His tongue protruded coyly between parched lips. “There has been enough bloodshed already and we have barely begun to swat at the shit pile.”

The Coronian metaphor made Lillith smile. Since they had met some thirty years ago, the role reversal had proved a continuous source of amusement and life for the assassin. He had become more like her, an empire upstart. She had become more like him – an uptight stickler for Akashiman law and custom.

“I promise there will be no more death tonight.” Her words, though spoken in earnest, were hollow. Four miles away, another of her sisters, at her expense, laid low with an audience. Another mistake. Collateral damage for good intentions.

Neko nodded appreciatively. He rose. He stretched. He smiled.

“How do you wish to proceed?” He twitched his ears.

Lillith walked ahead, expertly swerving around the nekojin. Allowing herself a moment to alleviate her ailments, she averted his gaze avidly. The answer to that was simple enough. They had flaunted themselves before their adversary. They had feigned capture. No doubt, the slavers expected them to perish in the night.

“We do what we came her to do,” she snarled. The aggression was at the thought of Lye, not the question itself.

“Which is?” Neko enquired chirpily. He skittered after his compatriot.

“We make sure nobody in the district sleeps tonight, alone, or with company.” Her dangerous game ended, Lillith and Neko returned to bondage, battle, and bounty.

[Lye]

Though he tried to relax in the confines of the the Commander's tent, he was plagued by the grunts and screams just outside the canvas. With strained eyes, he stared at the map of the area under the flicker of candlelight. With his gloved hand, he made a few liberal marks at the provinces of the Dukes.

"If only we could find a way to get our ranks within The Company," he muttered with a tap of the charcoal stick over the port city, Pestovo.

"Vogruk-Stokes is another headache in its own. Perhaps Aurelianus's new ventures will gain me some ground" he thought in the attempt to drown out the increasing roar from outside.

His temper fared and he slammed the writing instrument against the worn drafting table. Charcoal shattered across the lands of Salvar. The assassin had enough of the racket, and it was time that Akashiman whore warmed the snow with her corpse. Lye lifted himself from his seat and carried his short temper past the flaps. As he emerged into the biting winter air, his verdant gaze fell upon the several men violently defiling the girl from earlier. He turned his lip into a snarl of revulsion and approached them.

"That's about enough for you wretches!" Lye shouted to the lust crazed fiends. "Get the rest of these whores back on the wagon!"

One of the men arched his back in ecstasy. Somehow he found himself completion in the stinging chill and menacing commands of the master assassin. Lye did not take the same appreciation in the moment as his underling had. With a firm resolve and shrill ring of cold titanium into the brisk air, Lye gripped the Akashiman woman by her knotted hair. Saliva dripped from her lips, still thick with the seed of the immoral handlers. She did not struggle, for all the fight had been robbed from her. Before the man could pull out from his climax, Lye rammed the length of his blade through her lower mandible. It penetrated her skull and ejaculated a fine mist of red upon his face when the tip broke through the top of her head. Those women able to witness, gave shrill screams to the evening sky.The body heaved, twitched, gurgled, then fell limp.

"What the fuck?!" the thug shouted as he struggled to pull his drawers back over his groin and backed away.

Lye pulled the blade from her with a satisfying metallic slurp. He released her hair, and the pale, nude woman fell lifeless to the snow.

"I gave you an order," Lye approached him while he hurriedly scrambled to fix his hide leggings to his hips. The closer the assassin got, the more the hands seemed to forget the routine task.

"I... I..." the thug stammered.

Lye snapped the bloodied wakizashi between his legs, tip against fleshy tip.

"Disregard me again, and you will never be able to enjoy the sensation of a woman's flesh," the assassin hissed. The man was frozen in place. "Am I clear?"

The thug's mouth gaped open, but did not utter a sound to the increased pressure applied to his unmentionables. He quickly checked the action and offered a zealous nod of affirmation.

"Good." Lye lifted the blade from its hostage and he sighed in relief. Instead, the assassin tightly gripped the collar of the man's hide jacket. The terror returned to his eyes as the blade neared his own throat. Two swipes of the sword came across his shoulder. Lye offered a grimace as he wiped the last remains of the whore on his colleague's clothing. He let the man free of his clutches and slammed the blade back in its scabbard. "Now hurry off and help the others get the caravan ready. We leave camp immediately."

The panicked breaths of a man who had just stared into the eyes of death soon followed the sound of scrambled footsteps. Lye watched his underling rush to the others and put himself to use. A few shaky orders escaped his lips, but the other men only offered him sneers and jeers.

Lye looked at the steaming pool of scarlet growing from the corpse at his feet.

"Disgusting," he internally commented.

"M'lord!" shouted an exasperated voice in the distance. Lye directed his attention towards the disturbance and witnessed two of his men jogging briskly towards him.

"M'lord," the other began as they arrived. Both hunched over to catch their breath. "Th' other wench... got away."

Lye uttered a low growl at the news.

"We chased 'er steps to th' treeline, but it was like she vanished," the other chimed in with labored words.

"Vanished?" Lye mimed.

"The tracks just... stopped."

The assassin brought his gloved hand to his temples and rubbed them to stave off the bubbling anger within him.

"Just keep an eye out for her," he seethed through clenched teeth, "and if she shows up while we're gone, capture her, bind her, and pack her under a mound of ice. Keep her face near the flame, but let the snow steal the life from her slowly. If she's too much of a hassle, throw her head on a pike. Tell Gunther that he is in charge of camp while I see this caravan to Archen."

The two nodded. The irritated killer let a long sigh escape his mouth as a fog. He shook his head, and turned towards the caravan. When he arrived, the final preparations were being made, and the flustered Akashiman women had been chained within the newly covered wagon.

"Ready to head out at your command," the lead wagon master barked.

"Let's get this over with," Lye returned. He mounted upon one of the horses and with several shouts, then they were on their way.

[Lillith]

“Let’s just get this over with quickly,” Lillith pouted.

“In the name of all that is holy,” Neko sighed snappily, “you chose not to use the furs I brought, so suffer!”

Padding over snow, the nekojin was in his element. The wilds of Salvar, or indeed, of anywhere where his natural habitat. Lavender scented pillows and jasmine blossom bathhouses were Lillith Kazumi’s home.

“That is not what I am disgruntled about,” she retorted. With a steadfast resolve, she moved past her companion’s growing frustration and ran up to a fallen log. It barred their path with its indomitable, mourning slumber. “Look.”

With candour, and a great deal of agility, the spirit warder sprinted up behind the log, crouched, and listened. His ears, bastions of clarity leant into the wind of their own accord. Lillith ventured up behind him, her height affording her foresight, and dropped to her knees to shelter from the searing wind which rolled up over the rise and into the treeline which was now, thankfully, behind them.

“Look over the tree, obviously,” her sarcasm said. The woman remained silent, at war with chastisement or condescension.

Neko rasped. Haunches loosened, he rose and took in the scene beyond. The wind ruffled his fear, dried his nose, and strained his eyes. He dropped, hissed through fangs like icicles, and turned to his ward.

“That is the worst news…”

After tracking the caravan on its route, the duo expected to cut ahead of their prey through a great wood atop a frozen and blasted heath. Through heather forest and pine colonnades, their increasingly despairing selves traipsed on regardless. The imagery of their sisters in chains and carnal convolution carrying care, tanto, and claw calamitously through the countryside.

“Worst n…” Cutting her words short, Lillith took Neko indignantly by the scruff of his neck. She pulled him close enough to portent omen in the veins of his eyeballs. “We’ve been following them for days,” she hissed. It was only hours, but in desperate times time melded with agony into aeons.

Neko brought his right claw up and pressed it gently around her wrist. Calm and resolute next to her shaking and barely contained wrath, he squeezed, released her grip, and pushed her gently away. She scooted over a few feet geta piling snow and dead leaves on hard dirty ground.

“I am well aware of our troubles, Lillith-sama,” he executed his decorum gracefully. There were few ways to appease Lady Oni: manners was one, logic another. “We will have to amend our plan, which is all any good tactician can expect from moving in strange quarters.”

“I was certain, certain,” she said clenching her teeth. She balled her fists, took out her frustration on the tree trunk, and with reddened hands regretted her brashness. “I was certain we would cut them off at the pass.” Lip curled in chagrin’, the assassin stared blanking at a non-descript point on the lacquered, obsidian plates of the nekojin’s battle-garb.

Once more the confidant, Neko pressed a friendly grip onto her shoulder and returned the cruel kindness of her warning stare. With tuna breath and an all too familiar condescension, he brought her back to the earth.

“We may still yet, Lillith-sama. We may still yet.”

Without warning, he was gone. His final word of encouragement lashed to Lillith’s wrist, and yanked her over the log in a strange mix of speed, strength, and cumbersome acceptance that her emotions marred her clarity. She grit her teeth against the exposure, and pursued him relentlessly towards the trail of blurred lights against bleak, barren, bountiful boundaries beyond.

“I hope so…,” she pleaded.

[Lye]

Darkness had long since fallen while they continued along the trail. Falling snow and sudden gales of wind proved to be a constant irritation to their pace. Three times they stopped to reattach the makeshift covering for the future whores. Each time they made the repairs, one of them sought to exploit the delay. Each time, Lye felt his patience wane. It took a large manner of control not to kill off the bitches or bind them like logs. Still, he made an effort to keep them in place. One lost a finger, another lost her tongue, and the latest one was forced to walk on foot in the snow behind them.

The assassin, in an endless struggle between patience and frustration, made it a point to ride just behind the covered wagon. His piercing emerald watch kept the girls restless, and more importantly, in check.

All this hassle because of one escapee and that dreaded emotion called, "hope".

"Sir," shouted the driver at the head of the pack, "we're approaching Devil's Pass. Keep on yer toes!"

The words forced a snarl on Lye's cold lips. Just last month an entire caravan was crushed under feet upon feet of fallen ice and snow. The cliffs on each side either provided reprieve from the wind, or a funnel for it to chill the life from your fingers. Worse of all is you wished for the latter, for if you wished for the former, one strong gust would send several hundred pounds of packed powder hammering upon you. Today, they would be watching for the skies above.

"Take it slow and keep it quiet," Lye commanded. "Break the caravan in two staggered rows and keep to the cliff walls. If you hear the Devil's Whistle, try to keep yourself from being crushed. Our cargo is expendable should the situation become dire. Do you understand?"

"Aye, sir!" the driver affirmed. Several others joined in with their own acknowledgements.

The women chattered to one another in light of the orders. The word "devil" was a universally known word across many languages. It was enough to stir them, and the word "oni" slipped their lips in quiet repetition.

"Enough!" Lye barked. They whimpered back to silence.

"Ie! Dekimasen! Yame kudasai! Watashi wa anata no tanomu!" a voice screamed weakly from behind. The chain dragging behind the wagon chimed taught. Lye looked to the source to see the latest deviant staggering to walk. Her quivering voice reflected the icy tears streaming down her face.

"I said stow it!" Lye shouted. Then, in either defiance or exhaustion, she collapsed. Her frail body posed no hindrance to the wagon which now dragged her body like a rag through the snow.

"For fuck's sake," the assassin swore.

Without halting the caravan, he maneuvered his horse close to the chain which bound her and began reeling it hand over fist. Though with much strain, the assassin eventually lifted her from the ground by her chained wrists like a fish on a hook. He scowled.

"Not worth my time," he mentally reiterated. Yet, the assassin draped the female whore over the ass of his steed and covered her with the spare bundle of furs at his back.

"Sir, we're entering the pass!" shouted the driver.

Sure enough, the howling winds became but a soft whisper overhead. The cliffs shielded them from the icy grip, but dangled sudden death overhead.

Lye motioned with his eyes and hands to divide the caravan. They heeded his command and they progressed at a slow trot through the pass. The sooner they were free from this, the sooner they'd be to Archen. Lucky at that, the city was but a few hours from Devil's Pass.

This trek was almost over.

[Lillith]

On the edge of the camp Neko appeared in feral splendour. His claws flexed, without blade but full of brutality. His eyes sparkled, awakened by the growing darkness that engulfed the frozen wasteland.

“In. Out,” Lillith said sternly.

With a snarl, the nekojin glanced over his shoulder at the emerging assassin. Her black obi and pallid skin mimicked the starry sky and its winter moon.

“I am aware of the plan,” he retorted. He looked ahead.

“After the debacle with the Crane, I would rather not have to bind what remains of your soul to another oni.”

The truth of Neko’s sustained life cut the spirit warder deep. He shook his head to lose the drifts of snow from his shoulders, ankles, and tail. Limbering up, he eased away the cantankerous fatigue that had seeped into his joints. Rummaging in his saddlebag, he dug into way bread; thick slabs of poppy bread soaked in herbs, and waited for the kanji of blessing.

“All father, lord of the Kami, emperor of heaven,” Lillith began. She walked ahead, and stopped when her feet touched the tree line’s end and the beginning of the slope. She could see fires dancing in hearths, and shadows slithering betwixt wagon canopy and cage. “Grant us passage through the Reito, and light a lantern for our souls.”

Loosely translated, the blessing lost much of its poetry and meaning. They felt it, all the same, and poured their thoughts into the swell of energy that surrounded them in warmth and compassion. There was a sudden drop in temperature, and then a rise, and then a drop. Heaven itself converged with the world around them, and a breath – a ripple in time, washed over the duo.

“Blessed be the ways,” Neko called in reprise. Refuelled, and refined, he bounced from paw to paw. He drew a symbol in purple flame that symbolised war, and watched Lillith’s mirror kanji float into his. Her blue light, his purple, combined into a blessing of battle.

She looked at him.

He looked at her.

Blades drawn, tanto and kunai alike, the duo descended on the caravan with grace, speed, and sedition. Though composed, Lillith smelt blood the second they crossed into slavery territory. There was no doubt in her mind that it belonged to her sisters, and there and then, a heartbeat’s decision, she vowed to kill Lye without hearing his petulant excuses.

“Come and get me!” he challenged.

All he had to do was distract them, stay on the move, and stay alive. All Lillith had to do was stay hidden, stay still, and keep pretending she was dead.

“My mistress is dead, I will avenge her!” Another roar. Winter awake. Akashiman wrath in fur and ferocity pounced at a bewildered guard and clawed head from shoulders. He landed on all fours and bounced away.

[Lye]

"God damn it!" one of the guards shouted. These were his last words before the feral cat beast cleaved his head from his body. With his expression locked in a state of fear and surprise, the head traveled through the air and smacked Lye's horse square on its hindquarters. The steed grew wide eyed, kicked high in the air, and neighed wildly. This spread to the others and within seconds the entire caravan flew into disarray. Shouts echoed off the towering canyon walls and as the master assassin struggled to control his mare, his eyes were forced to the sky. The crest of packed powder and ice began to stir. Small fragments of white broke from above and grew ever larger in its decent.

"Stay to the sides!" he shouted contrary to his previous orders to remain silent. "Backs to the canyon wall! Keep an eye above!"

He opened his mouth to bark further orders, but his rearing horse jolted from another that had broke free and slammed into his. The steed topped and flung Lye into a bank of snow built up along the length of Devil's Pass. Luckily, he landed at just the right angle to avoid an unpleasant encounter with the sharp crags of the cliff wall. He stirred in the damp, frigid snow until he found his footing. The assassin glanced up in time to watch one man suffer disembowelment on the claws of the feral attacker. Anther man suffered instant death as a hunk of ice from above the size of a head cracked his skull in twain.

"Damn it! How many?!" Lye called out as he rose to his feet.

"Two! Maybe three!" someone shouted in the fray. Bodies darted to and fro, dodging each other, falling ice, attackers, and bucking mares.

Lye grit his teeth and drew his blades. The caravan had come to a complete stop in the fatal grip of Devil's Pass, and all because of a few bandits.

"The women! They're making a break for it!"

"Leave them! Settle the horses!"

"One of them is feline! It's too fas--"

Lye witness the source of the sentence cut off with a swipe of claw across his colleague's neck. Crimson vitae stained the white canvas below and gurgles replaced words. The assassin's own blood began to boil as he fixed his gaze on the nimble and efficient Neko.

As the chaos ensued, Lye bolted through it all. He strafed left. A boulder fell. He strafed right. A kunai sank into the guard behind. He slide along the blood stained snow and avoided a hoof to the skull by mere inches.

The gap closed.

"Join your mistress!" Lye seethed.

His titanium wakizashi lashed out with strikes akin to lightning for the cat's arterial zones.

[Lillith]

Lillith prowled in the shadows, watching Neko perform admirably in service of his sisters. When Lye played his opening card, she recognised the same strength and tenacity in he that dwelt in her. It would serve him well long enough, but serve her endlessly and unceasingly.

“I would prefer it if I joined on my own volition, <betrayer>.”

Her voice drifted out into the clearing but thundered into ears all the same. Lye hesitated just long enough to temper his strike into a less than mortal blow. Neko baulked beneath the strength behind it, legs buckling, arms straining to hold the blade back and from cutting all too easily through his shoulder blade.

“Add easy to goad to your growing list of mistakes,” he seethed further. He redoubled his efforts, pushing down on the feline with the hatred of ages empowering his muscles. Neko’s love for Lillith-sama was all that stayed the man’s aggression, his promise to protect her through each of his undying days a bond unbroken.

Lillith flittered over the furrowed snow, wagon trail breaking the swan-like plumes of drift. Beneath, mud oozed into the world, freed from the harsh winter of the land only to turn into the very thing that entombed it – rock like ice. Her kimono found itself loosened as her obi whipped free and tightened in her right hand into a lash. She knotted it through the circular fixture on the hilt of her blade, and crashed into Lye’s rear to alleviate the pressure from Neko.

Lye, apparently waiting for just that bravery, span about like a thunderbolt. His wakizashi, a blade Lillith was all too familiar with, cut through the space her chest would have been had she been as blind to the world as to fall for such tricks. She had died, quite literally a hundred times, and all those mortifying experiences taught her a thing or two.

“Add assuming I am weak because I have breasts to yours,” she smirked. The silver of his blade’s tip reflected a pallid moon on her pallid skin, bronzed only by adrenaline and the flushness of her cheeks in the raging cold.

“Why are you here?” he asked. His sword hand, singing with lust for blood, remained stoically at his side but Lillith saw skill there she did not wish to test. She would have to break his defence with words and wit, not a well-timed hit. “Bandits take gold, not girls.”

Lillith shook her head from side to side. “I am here to release the women of my home into the freedom I have spent the better part of a decade fighting for.” To prove her point, she unsheathed a second tanto. Its blade glowed purple, malefic contained within her very soul that was more insidious than any dark deeds performed in the Crimson Hand’s name. “I am hunting the spider that spun this web.”

Lye raised an eyebrow. His hair, long and tendril like fluttered as a north through south wind rolled down the pass. The screams died. The girls, or at least some quick enough o value freedom over high temper at blade’s tip, were out of sight. Guards and ghouls in male form began to appear at the verges of the clearing, watching their lead be lead roughshod in circles. Lillith’s heartbeat began to increase. Neko rose slowly, obsidian armour creaking.

“Let them go. Let them return home with me and I shall not return your poison to your heart.”

Doubtless, Lye would not understand the poignant metaphor. The blade purple she carried in her delicate fingers contained the soul of the Jurugumo. The spider oni, ruler of nine hells and temptress of men and end of empires would strike a nausea in its victims so powerful they would see the future. It would weaken him enough to allow the spirit-warder mistress and the Nekojin to make their retreat. All she had to do: cut his skin. She frowned, but quickly turned it into a cornered scowl.

“You know my name?” he chuckled. Neko chose that moment to lunge.

“All the world knows it, <usurper!>” Lillith lunged, geta pushed down into the snow to give her traction.

[Lye]

Though the chaos continued to ensue and his grip on the situation waned, these two warriors moved with a grace he could not help to admire. A fire burned deep within him to see the light extinguished from their eyes, but the woman tempered the blaze. While the two of them lunged, the assassin peered into the woman's eyes. She did not blink, she did not waver, and within those irises, Lye felt familiarity. Her alabaster face, stern expression, and flawless form riled him. His lips twisted to a smirk. He only wished the feline at his flank were omitted from the equation. Its feral form, ugly and raw, flooded into the assassin's senses, and the flow of time cracked from its momentary suspension.

Lye's body wavered, but he felt his calves coil. His mind drifted through the cacophony, found the darkness he clung so close to, and locked with it. He and the shadows joined, if only for a moment. Both corporeal and ethereal, his legs kicked with the masterful precision he prided himself upon. The pair's speed, finesse, and execution left no room for error. Their blades closed the gap. Their tips entered Lye's body like hot knives to butter - effortlessly. Though he moved to evade, their strikes landed.

Or had they?

Lye reflected Lillith's calm demeanor back upon her. His grip tightened and arms swung. One honed edge split flakes of snow toward the nekojin and the other for his master. Lillith's fierce resolve wavered, but only for a second. The assassin caught it in that fleeting moment. He saw surprise. He also saw her ability to overcome it. Her companion, on the other hand, caught a more severe consequence.

Lye skid to a stop in the snow, both arms at rest from their strikes. Garb and flesh alike bore no sign of injury or wear. Within his mind, the assassin's serenity with the plane of shadows fragmented. The fragile balance of the ethereal slammed him back into reality, and his keen balance became clumsy footwork. He winced, the shadows touch rippling within his skull, but firmed his stance against the canyon wall. The heel of his boot pressed firmly into its crags.

"Take your whores," Lye rebuked as the whirlwind of powder clouded his vision. "The world is teeming with more. You cannot save them all." He pushed his weight into the wall of stone and forced himself toward their tangled silhouettes.

"Why don't you give me yourself..." Both of this trusted blades trembled behind him.

"For their freedom!" They called for a challenge, and he yearned to give it to them.

Sparks from the heat of battle scattered to the frigid air. The fire in his eyes failed to identify the hand that stilled his assault, but his confidence grew at the scent of fresh blood. Somewhere in the tangle, lost in the confusion of his shadowy tricks, a blade pierced his foes' flesh. As to which, he could not tell, but Lye was certain it had not been drawn by his own hand. The force which blocked him pushed with a strength akin to the gods and repelled the assassin back. He staggered yet again as payment for his phantasm.

"The world knows nothing," he spat. The air had tempered in favor of his assailants. "You are no different."

Lye righted himself and took to the defensive. Though his trick may have turned their blades toward one another, the cost of his actions may prove to test the depth of his own resolve. A sinister stare penetrated him, his stomach soured, and confidence turned to doubt.

[Lillith]

Lillith gave up her fight. Warmth ran down her side, oozed, moreover, with undeniable conviction. She dropped her tanto. Feverish, through fear, not hunger, she reached for the impact site with instinct alone.

“Get out of here, Neko,” she said half-hearted. "This man thinks I am his, but he will be disappointed." She spat bloodied bile and phlegm.

The pieces of a loosely realised puzzle came together. As Lillith dropped to her knees, a trickle of blood tarnishing her make-up and chin, the nekojin did as told. Whilst his obedience was a rare sight indeed, his disappearance caused something else to appear in his stead.

“The problem,” she said, wincing, “with men like you…” A shuriken thudded through the night and ended a bloodied guards death throws. “With all men…good and bad alike…” Her dark, pained frown turned to an all-knowing smile. “Is that behind each and every one of them, there is a good or bad woman.”

Lillith fell forward. Her face struck the ground hard. A bone cracked, or perhaps the sound of compacting snow simply echoed in the pass. By the time Lye returned to inspect, and participate in her misery, she would be long gone.

Of course, the assassin’s metaphor meant to go on. The sound of screams, and padded feet thudding through the caravan stole her thunder. Here were woman far more capable of fighting for their freedom. Ninja of the southern regions of Akashima. Grieved by the loss of their Tigress at the hands of the Ronin – creatures no higher in their estimates than the slavers they descended upon all too hungrily.

Neko watched the chaos from the last locked cage of his mistress’ sisters. They whimpered, uncertain of who was friend or foe, but began their adulations when the spirit warder at last turned the key triumphant. The impression of the blade in Lillith’s side was still tortuous in his mind. Memories of his own death rekindled fear and anger in him, and though he wanted very much to strike the man down for his crime, he understood why Lillith chose to sacrifice herself in the pursuit of justice proper.

“May Lady Oni rest in peace,” he prayed as he bounded back to her body. He waited for the swordsman to turn away, hoping to slip in unnoticed and steal her away into the obscurity that reincarnation and immortality brought the agents of Chronicle.

[Rayleigh]

Thread: The District Sleeps... (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?26733-The-District-Sleeps-(Closed))
Participants: Lye (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?2900-Lye) & Lillith (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?14411-Lillith)
Judgement Type: Basic

Good afternoon! For this judgment, I’ve elected to combine your critiques. I’ve provided specific examples for each of you, but I found many similar strengths and weakness. I also know that this thread was written years ago, so some of my suggestions may be outdated. You’re both excellent writers, and it was a lot of fun handling your judgment.

Strengths

To begin, I want to commend you both on how well you played your characters. Save for a few hiccups, which I will address a bit later, your personas were rock solid. Lillith, you did an excellent job describing the many emotions that your character experienced. From feigning innocence in post four (an often difficult task when working with such a powerful character), to finally falling beneath Lye’s blade, your actions and dialogue choices were almost always justifiable. Lye, the cold, calculating demeanor that you wrote for your character was a perfect representation of who he is, and really demonstrated what he values. Along the same line, I really liked how clear each character’s motivations were. I never found myself asking questions such as “why does Lillith care about these women,” or “why does Lye do all of this if he doesn’t enjoy it?” You both predicted possible reader concerns, and addressed them. Very well done!

Next, I was very impressed by how well you both wrote combat. Too often, even skilled writers make the mistake of writing too much. A good fight does not need to give readers a play by play; all that’s needed is just enough to envision the scene. Any more, and you may run the risk of actually bogging the reader down. Reading your fights was quite refreshing, as you both seemed to find this perfect balance. I especially liked Lillith’s takedown in post four. It was clean, crisp, and somehow reminded me a bit of the style in Sherlock Holmes. Lye, I enjoyed experiencing the switch from confidence to doubt, which you reflected well in your actions. You managed to portray thoughts and the associated motions without growing too wordy. Great job.

Finally, I need to compliment your obviously firm grasp of the English language. Your mechanics here were really great, and I found very few mistakes. That speaks to your skill as writers, and your willingness to proof read and spell check. A lot of people do not take time for that, so I appreciate your doing so! The techniques that you did use, namely metaphors and similes, were nicely done, though I think there were even possibilities to use more! Prose-wise, great work!

Weaknesses

Now, I know that I just finished complimenting you on persona. However, there was one thing that I think could be tightened up, and that is the actual transitions between your characters’ emotions. Post six saw Lillith move from impassioned anger, to overwhelming doubt, to easy calm, to good-natured humor, and then back again. While I was able to locate an excuse for each after a close re-read, the switches were a bit too jarring. In the future, consider making these transitions a bit smoother with more obvious hints, or more detail (or perhaps both). What made Lillith calm down again? What helped her overcome the guilt that had caused a half-whimper? Or did she simply shelf the emotions for the time being? Lye, this applies to you as well, though a bit less-so. For you, I think that much of this came from Lye’s quick outbursts. As a relatively collected character, outbursts of anger and frustration can come as a shock to your reader. Be sure that any big emotions, such as the anger and frustration at the end of post seven, are well explained.

My second suggestion has to do with setting. You both did a really nice job of establishing setting at the start, and every once in a while, you dedicated a short paragraph to it mid-post. The final step to completely immersing me in this winter wonderland would have been more occasional references to the characters’ surroundings throughout. Though there were some nice instances of this, especially involving breath in the cold air, I think that you could strive to add a bit more. I’ve found that constantly picturing my characters’ surroundings while I write helps a lot. Maybe it is silly, but I sometimes imagine myself, with my laptop, sitting in a frozen field. Am I shivering? What do I look like? What am I thinking? And then I weave those elements in wherever I can. Just something to think about!

Finally, I’d like to comment on pacing. Right around post ten, when our two main characters came together, all pacing problems disappeared. But previous to that, there were a few concerns. Lillith’s posts were much more thought and dialogue-driven, with very little action. Lye’s posts were action-packed. Had there been more connection between the two posts, this may have provided some interesting contrast. But as it was, I felt a bit like I was reading two entirely different stories. I am not sure if this was lack of communication, or a style choice, but it did detract from the overall story. I found myself drawn to the faster pace of Lye’s portion the first time through, and realized that I was not giving Lillith’s sections the proper attention. Perhaps consider adding a few more obvious correlations between the two storylines, or discussing pacing together while writing.

Lye receives 800 EXP and 75 GP!

Lillith receives 660 EXP and 75 GP!

[Lye]

EXP & GP Added.

Lye Levels Up!