Painful lessons

[Reiko]

(Closed to Koran)

Ki yelped as the healer applied the salve to the wound on her belly. It was not a very comfortable situation with having a strange man touch her body for the purpose of healing but it would prevent scaring and infection and also the healer was young for his advanced skill and that made it a little easier as well being a man from her homeland. “Heh, I remember when I was a samurai.” The healer said out of the blue, surprising the fox ronin who was holding her eyes shut to prepare for more of the stinging healing mix to be applied. “Oh I’m done with that.” The healer smiled as he moved to hold Ki’s treasured Onitachi. “An evil yet magnificent blade.” He commented and Ki tried to smile with some pride though it looked pained since it hurt her wounds.

“Yeah I was able to tame it and stop it’s evil ways.” The fox girl couldn’t help but enjoy the praise.

“You broke it because you could not handle it.”

Ki looked at the man in shock, it was quite the insult.

“I know you’re exploits, you’re good but not good enough for a blade of ledged like this, though it’s still yours and I won’t take it.” The healer said as he handed the blade back to Ki who was looking back harshly one moment and then with curiosity the next. “Tell me why you fight?”

“Well I was born with samurai and kitsune blood but I’m not really a good fox. My mind’s a little simple for trickery.” Ki answered with a bit of a blush.

“Well then I guess you aren’t too sure about why you walk the samurai path. Well I want to help you, there is something special about you and if you can truly learn the reason you wish to fight then you will take your first step.” The ex samurai healer wrote a small note and handed it the Ki. “Take this to the citadel. The battle may give you an answer. And don’t worry, I’ll pay you for an easy job so you don’t go hungry.” The healer laughed.

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The next week Ki had recovered from the small scuffle that made her seek the healer’s help and she went to the citadel with the note. As she walked the great halls that the fox girl had only vague dreamlike memories when Kadenzaa would visit the place as a novice and Inari never really went in.

Everything was so quiet and even the well toned warrior monk guard took the note in silence before leading Ki to a doorway that led to a room that obviously wouldn’t fit in the space allowed thanks to the monk’s magic.

Ki hardly could believe the royal reception room was going to be her battle ground, the place was large enough for a party with elegant rugs, chandeliers and polished floors. But it wasn’t perfect; the smell of blood and death was already in the room. Bodies were strewn all over the room and where the tiles weren’t so clean that Ki could use them as a mirror, they were covered in dry blood. The vixen tightened her Kimono and kept her hand close to the Onitachi, the battle had not yet begun despite the fact that it looked like one had already taken place.

[Koran]

"May I help you child?"

He raised a questioning eyebrow at the small monk, as he had never before been called child, but instead of trying to be smart and correct the man, he only smiled.

"Yes, I believe there is a battle scheduled for me?"

There was a moments pause as the monk looked down at a small brown book at his waist, then back up to him, then back down at the book. Finally, he spoke.

"Yes, I looks like I have one entry in here stating that you are to participate in a preplanned fight. I must warn you though, the opponent waiting for you is quite skilled, you might your work cut out for you."

He laughed and slapped the monk lightly on the shoulder. "Sir, you haven't need worry about me, I'll survive."

The monk smiled and snapped his book closed. "I'll take your word for it than." Shifting his shoulders in his robe, the slap apparently dislodged them a bit, the monk beckoned to follow and then turned. "Right this way, it isn't far."

Feeling no choice but to follow, or get lost in the labyrinth that was the citadel, the armored hulking giant that was Koran, followed as lightly and as quietly as he could. You could only muffle so much sound when walking around in a full suit of steel plate and weigh three tons on top of it. He still felt a small tang of guilt every time he put his foot down and heard to audible cracking of the floor beneath him. Not that it wasn't a chore for the monks to fix it, he just always saw it as a needless inconvenience.

Before he could ponder the thought much longer they reached their destination and the monk bit his good byes before turning to go, leaving Koran standing alone in front of an all to familiar looking door. I wonder if they ever think of changing the appearance of their doors. The thought was an amusing one, and one that he'd have to ask them, when he got the chance. But, as of right now, he couldn't. He had a fight to attend too, questions could be asked later. He opened the door and stepped into the room.

It had been a massacre. This much was evident in the way the bodies were laid out. They had approached from the south, running in with large maces and heavy hammers, smashing and bashing their way through the unarmored skulls of those lucky enough to die first. It had taken a moment for panic to set in, first there was always confusion, this was usually when the bodies became clumped together. Next was panic, followed by either the fight or flight syndrome of human thought process'. It looked as though those who succumbed to the 'fight' portion of the syndrome were the second ones to die, and die in a most horrible fashion. Pools of blood and random body parts were all that marked their deaths, all the remained of the valiant stand against whatever it was that attacked them. Those that succumbed to the 'flight' syndrome met no less a similar fate, as they ran straight into three additional, but separate attacks.

From the west, then to the east as they tried to flee there. Then seeing as they had no where else to run, they fled north. And there they all died.

It was a painful sight to look upon, but one that Koran had strangely become accustomed too. Not that he had seen it often or done it, but something that, due to his perfect memory, had seen enough of to not be bothered by it all the time. He merely shook his head in shock and looked up at the opponent he was scheduled to fight.

It looked human, but that was where resemblance ended. Firstly it had nine tails, each tipped with silver fur; secondly it had ears similar to that of a fox. It's skin was pale and the more he stared at it, the more he became unsure of its age. If anything, it looked almost harmless but Koran knew from experience that even the most harmless looking of creatures could in fact be the most deadly.

That child from the Theatre of War, I'll never forget his face.

He shook himself and cleared his throat before speaking, loudly as the two of them were quite a distance apart.

"You mind telling me why I've been called to fight you? All I got was this little note that said to fight someone in the citadel, then nothing else. I don't like meaningless fights, unless I have a reason to start one."

[Reiko]

It was a scary sight to the vixen as it would be to anyone. The man that entered was an armored hulk that was easily a whole foot taller than Ki if not more. But seeing her enemy look around at the carnage was unsettling though he did shake his head at the mess and some how that was good.

But when Ki sniffed, she couldn’t smell the fighter, the blood of the corpses was getting in the way but the fox girl’s sense of smell was better than that to where she could smell the differences in a person mood. This man smelled only like iron or steel or some other metal.

At least he talked decently enough while stating his dislike over pointless battles and wasting time. “Well a friend set this up for me, he promised that I would learn something that I needed to from this fight.” The nine tails answered as her tails danced with apprehension. “I don’t have any qualm with you if that’s what you think. I haven’t even met you.”

Ki really wondered if there ever was any other purpose than practice or simple lusts to bash someone’s skull in like the poor man at Ki’s foot, causing her to yelp as she almost stepped on the ugly sight. Doji even wondered why she was here in the first place since there wasn’t any money and the friend was just a healer that was once a samurai. But if he was right and what she learned would help her become something more than a simple ronin girl who wandered the lands in look for work that used her blade.

Still she had to fight now and so she didn’t want to waste any more time. “I’m Doji Ki,” she said with a bow and smile before touching Onitachi and wait for the opponent to introduce himself for the duel. Though she was ready to draw the blade in iaijutsu if the armored fighter would try anything funny. All the dead bodies and the smell of their blood seemed to put Ki on a wary mood and she was not going to get cut down in the beginning.

[Koran]

"Ehm, teach you uh? Hmm," Koran busied himself for the moment by staring blankly down at ravaged corpse of a young lady, laying sprawled not two feet from his left foot. He extended it absently and tapped the side of her face, drawing it up off of the floor, dried and still drying blood creating long red strings as it lifted free of the marble tiles. It looked like she had taken a hard blow to that side of her face, with a spiked mace. He let the face fall back to the tile with a squishy thunk and shook his head again.

At least it had been quick, he thought to himself as he cleared his throat a second time. "Well Doji," he said after a moment. "If you're here to learn something, perhaps now’s as good as any time to start." With that he drew the steel great sword on his back and held it before him, blade at a thirty degree angle from his chest, both hands wrapped firmly around the hilt. He could have easily held it with one hand, but decided that with this set up he'd have the most control, something that was a must with someone who was as small, and probably as fast, as Doji.

"My name by the way," he said after a moment of silence," is Koran. Koran Vincent Seether and you can have the honor of first strike." He tilted his head respectfully and then settled himself into a stable, steady stance. He was ready to move in almost any direction, at a moments notice. He only hoped he had a moments notice, else this would probably be a fairly short fight.