#kete sunir

[a-forlorn-soul]

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[a-forlorn-soul]

Prompt #25: Trust

FFXIV2019

Prompt #25: Trust

Rating: SFW

Warnings: Mild gore and violence

Timeline: Appox six years ago

“Are you sure this is wise?” a soft voice behind him asked in perfect Hingan.

“Trust me.” It was all he could say really in the language, but it was enough as a smirk tugged at his lips.

These were the jobs he lived for, the ones that not only promised danger but delivered on that promise beyond what could be described. His amber eyes were alight with the thrill as they shifted between the four Yakuza that had ambushed them. This was not to even mention the whistle of the Sekiseigumi echoing in the background. It would not matter to them who started the fight, just that they were fighting in the streets of Kugane. All that meant to him was that he had to finish this quickly.

His hands tightened their grip on the large greatsword he carried, thinking it had been a better choice for an urban brawl than his gunblade. Unfortunately the size of the weapon made it difficult to use in these close quarters. Instead of swinging it as the first of their attackers charged in he shifted it up to block the man’s movements, and then closed his fist to strike out at him with an uppercut. Normally this would have simply just knocked the poor man senseless but luck was not on their side this sun. Kete wore fur gauntlets with a steel plate that had three sharpened claws on the end that could be used as a weapon, which was why blood sprayed from the man’s chin as he crumpled to the ground.

“One down,” he told his charge he kept herself hidden behind him.

She was beginning to realize why the giant man had led her into this narrow alley. Not only was his weapon rendered near useless, but their attackers could only come at them one at a time. A sigh of relief escaped her upon her accepting that her trust had not been misplaced. In fact her bodyguard didn’t appear to even need his giant weapon to be lethal as they all had just been shown, granted he was a Xaela so that should only be expected. Despite most viewing them as savages there was no denying that almost all had a healthy respect for their prowess in combat.

Again the whistle sounded. Kete’s eyes narrowed as he could tell they were getting closer, leaving him no time to let his quarry come to him. Using his sword as a shield against any attacks they might try he pushed forward towards them. The hand he was using to fight with reached back to pull his hunting knife free of its scabbard before throwing it at the next man coming in. Once more a spray of blood greated his attack as the man was sent backwards from the force of the throw.

“Kami damn him,” one of the Yakuza muttered, “We need to get out of here, the boss won’t be happy to bail us out of jail.”

“He won’t be happy we failed either,” countered the other one.

“Will not matter to you,” Kete growled at them, having gotten closer as they argued.

The furthest one from him decided living with his boss’ displeasure was better than facing Kete or the Sekiseigumi and took off running away. All alone the remaining Yakuza readied his Katana, apparently fearing failure more than anything else. It was a mistake that was going to cost him since like Kete his own weapon was limited by the close quarters, only really being able to thrust with it or use an overhead strike.

Attempting the latter the man charged in at Kete who simply ducked down to let his own blade cover him. A ring of steel on steel echoed out to slightly drawn the constant sound of the whistle getting closer. Kete then twisted his large blade to turn the sharp edge to face his opponent, making the katana slide off slightly to leave the man unbalanced. He then snatched the man by his garments and slammed him downwards. While his katana save him from being impaled through the chest, there was nothing to protect his face as it was split down the middle.

A final warm spray of blood coated Kete, though it was hard to see on his red skin. There was a sickening slick sound when he removed the man’s head from his blade, blood and brains oozing out of the gaping wound. <”Now… to get away without being caught,”> he muttered to himself.

“We need to hurry, the Sekiseigumi will be here soon!” his client urged him on, trying her best not to look at the grizzly scene in front of her, “This way, there is a back door I know is always open.”

She had trusted him, so now it was his turn to return that by trusting her. Sliding his blade away after wiping it clean he turned to follow her. Kugane was turning out to be far more fun for the Xaela than he had thought it was going to be.

[a-forlorn-soul]

Prompt #4: Poking the Bear

FFXIVWrite2019 @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

Prompt #4: Shifting Blame

Rating: SFW

Warnings: None

Timeline: Approx six months ago

Featuring: Chabi Burkitshi @foofmastaflex

The sound of something being slammed down onto a table rang out in the small Haven. Though many things still needed to be done in order to get the place operational most of the furniture was already in place and they had already hired an assistant to help Chabi with the managing of the finances. It was from the front of the Haven where that assistant worked with Chabi that the noise came from, but Kete remained in the unfinished basement enjoying a new flask of Khumis.

His eyes remained on the partially finished fire pit in the middle, nestled among the unfinished floor that still required the mats to be set down upon it. A smirk tugged at his through his drinking, almost as if he knew what it was all about. Nearly three moons locked in a cabin on a boat with the woman had left him quite restless and now he had a way to take out all that pent up annoyance. Unfortunately for the attendant that made him the fall guy for any and all plots that Kete devised.

Shouts in broken Eorzean, which sounded off since the woman had been taken lessons from a Doman, could be heard from upstairs followed by a few muffled hurried responses. Hearing this only served to widen his smirk even more as it he knew which one of his plots had been uncovered this time. He placed his flask down on one of the tables and waited to hear what would happen next, eager to see if his attempt to put the blame on the attendant worked.

<”If it failed I will hear her steps pounding along right about….. now,”> he remarked in Xaelic, no where near having any kind of handle on Eorzean yet.

Sure enough his prediction proved true as someone could be heard stomping down the stairs. <”KETE!”> came the accompanying shout.

<”Guess I will have to use the thirtieth plan after all,”> he mused to himself while waiting.

In reality there was no wait, however, as a small Xaela woman stormed into the unfinished basement with a look of fury settling over her purple skinned features. Her teal eyes locked onto him and flashed dangerously the entire time she closed the distance. In one of her hands was a leather bound journal that she was shaking furiously at him as if he had committed some sort of grievous crime.

<”This was you?!”> she demanded in the Xaela tongue, too furious to attempt to practice her Eorzean, <”You touched my work journal and fouled up my plans for some… some… prank?!”>

She was probably attempting to back her words by showing off what he had down, but all it really did was make it really hard not to laugh. Holding the journal open to what had pissed her off she shoved it right in his face to force him to look at it. Upon the page, drawn over gil calculations, was what one could only describe as a dozen Lalafell and Namazu being roasted over an open pit with Chabi behind them cackling maniacally. Though the only reason to tell it was Chabi was the fact that someone had written her name in poor Hingan with an arrow pointing to the vaguely Au Ra shaped stick figure. Even better was written right above it were the words, again in Hingan, ‘reasons to take over the west.’

<”N-no,”. He answered, barely able to contain his laughter, <”I do not have access to the counter. Only th-the attendant does.”>

<”I can see you trying not to laugh!”> she shouted back at him furiously.

That was all it took for him to double over laughing, knowing that such a thing like what he had drawn was not far off from the truth. The best part for him was the way she was reacting over a little drawing in a journal. If he didn’t know better he thought someone would have chopped off her tail or something with how angry she was.

<”WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”> she screamed at him before storming off, most likely formulating ways to make his life a living hell. Whether she was or not, it didn’t matter to him in the slightest. For now he was too busy trying not to die laughing on the floor in the basement.

[a-forlorn-soul]

What Monster Protects Kete

"You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view.... until you climb into his skin and walk around in it." -Atticus Finch Skinwalker: "Yee naaldlooshii" - 'it goes on all fours'. 

For some, the Skinwalker is very real and very lethal. Even the mere utterance of its name is fated to bring a curse upon you if not the being itself. A skinwalker was once a human, a human who succumbed to the tempting promise of power that only the darkest of arts can bring. As with all magic, it comes at a cost. The sacrifice of someone in their family. Skinwalkers prowl the woods at night, taking the form of an animal to inflict pain and suffering on others. It has the ability to transform into anything... or anyone by skinning them alive and traipsing around in their skin... like some sort of sick costume. For you, change is constant and inevitable. It is in the air you breath, the people you love, and the life you live. However, unlike everyone else, you don't fight against it. You've never seen the point. It seemed futile to oppose a constant like change. This attitude had made you into a very accepting and open-minded individual. Your care-free attitude has attracted the attention of this malevolent spirit. Maybe this Skinwalker wishes to take you on as a pupil, or perhaps something about you just draws it towards you. It will do what it can to protect you if only to figure out what it is about you that causes these feelings. Just be wary of those in your life who encourage change, for one day, you might look back on yourself

And not recognize the thing you've become...

Quiz Here!

Tagged by: Stole it from @ofloveandaether Tagging: @foofmastaflex, @magick-and-machines, @meandering-mind, @lets--make--magic, @trc-xiv, @card-and-flame, @shroudblessings, @hanidahlia, @lihzeh, and anyone else who wants to do it. ((I am terrible at remembering who my followers are...))

[a-forlorn-soul]

Prompt #20: Nhaama’s Blessed

FFXIVWrite2019

Prompt #20: Bisect

Rating: SFW

Warnings: N/A

Timeline: Approx 26 yrs ago

Laughter filled the night air as the Tribe began to gather. It was a scene that was repeated nearly every eve as Nhaama began her ascent into the sky to rule while Azim rested. This was the time of thanks and prayer, a time of joy and celebration. Music joined the voices and laughter to take the vibrancy of their joy to the heavens above. They did not know if others did such, nor did they care. In the eyes of the Sunir they were the chosen, the blessed. Those who watched and waited for Nhaama’s people to come into their own so that they might rejoin them.

Tonight, however, was different than what usually happened. Nhaama graced the sky with her full splendor giving rise to an even greater celebration, one that started with the telling of the origin to the young of the Tribe. So it was that the adults and elders of the Sunir gathered before their bonfire with their instruments at their side while the children sat themselves before them. The crowd did not move or part now until the Khatun made her way through their ranks to come to stand between the two groups.

<”Nhaama blesses us with her beauty once more, and so we remind ourselves of how we came to be. Hold well this tale, for it is the history of our Tribe and people.”> she called out to the children in front of her.

Behind her the adults and elders brought their instruments to the ready and started playing a soft tune with a firm beat, something to tell a tale too. Combining this with the crackling light of the bonfire and the swell of the ocean nearby created an almost hypnotic effect to any, especially the young who were now held in thrall of what was transpiring.

<”Many seasons back, before the children of Azim and Nhaama were born, Azim and Nhaama shared the sky together. There was no Sun or Moon, just happiness and bliss. Yet in this happiness chaos was born, for without Sun and Moon there was nothing to govern the passing of time and season. So the Mother of All split Azim and Nhaama apart, though it pained her to keep the two lovers seperated, and created both Sun and Moon. Azim, burning bright as ever, was set to look after the Sun and rule over all while its light covered the ground. Nhaama, whose beauty was ethereal, was set to look after the Moon and rule over all when Azim’s light faded from the world.”>

<”Though they abided by the wishes of the Mother of All it hurt them deeply to no longer be able to see each other. So they used all the power they could gather and created children of their own. It was their hope that through their children they might once more be reunited with one another. Azim, who knew only light, created Au Ra with scales of white that were brilliant to behold. While Nhaama, who knew only darkness, created Au Ra with scales of black that shone with the fierce beauty of onyx. For awhile in the land of our birth both those of light and those of dark lived peacefully, fulfilling the wishes of their parents.”>

<”Alas, as all things must, this peace came to an end. Though the first of the Au Ra knew the wishes of Azim and Nhaama, those that came after did not. With only stories told to them by their forefathers they began to question why they lived with those that were so different. Eventually their purpose became forgotten the like Azim and Nhaama were split by the Mother, so to did their children become split apart.”>

<”The first of the Sunir were Khans of the Dusk before the great sundering. Leading our people in prosperity, but when fighting began and even bonds of different tribes started to shatter they left the heart of their home. They went North where they could watch and wait, eventually melding with the Angura until that tribe too fell to corruption. Now all that remains of the blood of the Khan of Khans flows in our veins. We are all that is left of those who still remember our past. Be proud to be Sunir, but also remember it is our duty to avoid spilling the blood of Nhaama at all costs.”>

When those final words were spoken the music began to cease and the children were left with faces of wonder. Despite the fact that not even the one who told the story knew if it was true or not, those children would fight to the death saying that it was. This was how the Sunir kept their tribe together, through any and all obstacles. This was how they survived.

[a-forlorn-soul]

Prompt #1: The Thirst

FFXIVWrite2019 @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

Prompt #1: Voracious

Rating: SFW

Warnings: N/A

A flurry of whispers washed over the room at the sight of what had just stumbled through opening of the Doman inn. Covered in ripped furs that were stained with blood from countless wounds a red skinned Xaela struggled to make his way over to a table. The odd blade on his back too closely resembled a Garlean weapon for the taste of many patrons, but neither that or his condition was what most of the whispers were about. No, instead they spoke of his near zombie like state that he moved and looked around. There was a dead look in his amber eyes that made many uneasy. It was the look of one who had all but given up on living, the gaze of one with nothing left to lose.

“Water,” the strange ragged Xaela rasped in a very poor attempt of Doman as he collapsed near the innkeep.

The hyur had been watching the man ever since his entrance and could not believe that someone like that would only ask for water. Rather than giving him a mug of water the man instead placed a gourd of something else in front of the man.

“Many thanks.” The words gave away that the Xaela did not even notice that he had been served something else. He was so far gone that he just placed several koban down to pay for the drink before grabbing the gourd. Bringing it to his lips he took several large gulps from it to try and sate his thirst.

Despite the apprehension of his patrons, and several references to a scarlet oni, the innkeep laughed loudly at what happened next. He was rewarded with the sight of a surprised Kete choking on the Sake that he had attempted to chug. For the Doman it was all too clear that the poor man had never had anything quite as strong before. So unused to the ways of drinking was the mysterious man that the price of it was more than covered by the entertainment given.

“What in <Nhaama’s name> is this?” the warrior demanded after clearing his throat, using a mixture of Doman and Xaelic.

A second gourd was placed in front of him at first in response. “Sake. It is a rice wine that is common to most of Othard. Though I am not surprised to learn that one such as you has never had it,” mused the innkeep, “Regardless you look like you could use a fairly large quantity of it.”

“Water will do just fine,” came the defiant retort of the Xaela, “Things like this only serve to dull my ability to fight.”

“Sure it will do that. It will also help you relax. Worry not stranger, this is a place of rest. No harm will come to you so you will have no need to fight,” the hyur countered.

Uncertainty flooded his face as amber eyes moved back down to the alcohol. Where there once had been a look of death there was now a hint of life in his gaze. He could not deny there was a warm feeling slowly spreading through his body followed by the pain of his wounds beginning to dull. Not even the phantom pain that had been plaguing him since his escape seemed quite as bad. So instead of arguing further he drank from the first gourd again, this time all but draining it completely.

Something about this drink not only eased his pain, nor did it only keep him warm, but it also gave him a hint of a feeling he had long since discarded. A faint glimmer of happiness broke through and caused a smile to tug slightly at his lips. Knowing that the innkeep was smirking at him at having been right he placed more koban down before moving on to the second gourd. A need burned for more, and burned greater with every single gulp that he took of the liquid. As far as he was concerned while draining the last bit of the liquor this was the nectar of the Mols’ gods.

“If you keep drinking like that you’ll be passed out on my floor. How about a name, stranger? At least that way I can try and convince the people of this hamlet that you are not the oni they believe you to be.”

Looking up to the hyur with eyes struggling to focus the xaela nodded slowly. “Kete, of the Sunir tribe. Not oni, just a warrior of the Steppes,” he barely managed to get out.

“Kete. Good. For your new found appreciation of our Sake Kete, I shall give you two more gourds on the house,” the innkeeper went on, “Perhaps if you rest up enough I can even let you earn some more by doing some work around this place.” More Sake was set out for Kete before the man was done speaking, happy to see someone enjoying themselves so thoroughly after appearing to be half dead.

“If you keep giving me this… this… Sake?” he practically hiccupped with oncoming drunkenness, “Then yes. Work I will do.”

Kete didn’t wait for any confirmation at all, he was far too busy beginning to work on the next gourd of Sake. A voracious appetite for such liquid awoke within the core of his being. Perhaps with the help of the alcohol he might manage to sleep. It was with that hope that he continued to drink as much as he could, about half a gourd more, before slamming face first into the bar.

[a-forlorn-soul]

Prompt #12: Hopeless Hearts

FFXIVWrite2019

Prompt #12: Fingers Crossed

Rating: SFW

Warnings: Long read, mushy stuff, really long read, horrible mushiness

Timeline: Approx 6-7 months ago

Featuring: Features Charbi Burkitshi @foofmastaflex. Based off of an RP done.

A sigh escaped Kete as he followed Chabi back into the inn room she carried the key for. His mind was already disregarding the looks they had gotten on the way in, the people of this city assuming things beyond what was actually happening. The woman in front of him wasted no time at all in pushing the door open for him to step in, and quickly closed it behind them once he was inside. Now that they were there, he wasn’t sure how this was going to go. All he could do was pray and hope that it would go how he wanted, or well hope with fingers crossed.

<“Alright, who did you hurt and how much do we have to pay in damages?> Chabi questioned him in a firm tone.

Turning around he found that she was scowling at him angrily, taking him completely by surprise. <”What do you mean? Why would you assume it was something I have done?”> he countered in a confused voice with his brows furrowing. His eyes searched her stance as he wondered if perhaps he had gotten this all wrong from the very start.

<”Why else would you wish to speak in private?”>

The fact that she was now pinching the bridge of her nose caused the determination that he had earlier to wither and fade slowly. Not a word about what he had really wanted to discuss had been said and he could already feel his own stoic nature pulling the walls of his emotions closed. Even before he realized it his expression became passive as he stared at her in silence for a moment. <”You make it sound as if all I bring to you is bad news. I just wished to speak of something I did not believe others should hear. It is a courtesy to do such, or at least I learned such in Hingashi.”>

Her shoulders sagged a bit, giving away that she was beginning to lower her guard before she moved over to take a seat at the table. <”Then I apologize. So what did you wish to speak of?”?>

<”It is impossible to avoid noticing how things went during our bout this morning,”> he responded, taking a seat himself. He paused just a moment to chug a drink for himself, slamming his cup back down. <”True, there has been tension between us for some time before you said a word on it. Yet now it is more intense and cannot be left alone, especially with how we must work together.”>

<”What?”> she stammered while nearly choking on her water, <”There is no tension. You made the comment of me being on top, and we had an understanding that I have small feelings that will fade. If they cause you issues we will avoid Bokh until it is resolved.”>

Now it was his turn to pinch the bridge of his nose while a brief flicker of emotion returned to his stoic expression. He should have known that she would be dismissive of it all, but a part of him had hoped that he’d be able to get through to her. Leaning back in his chair he tried to figure out what to say in order to get it through to her. In the back of his mind a part of him was damning himself for being such a loner ever since he broke free from the prison.

<”That is not what I mean. Yes I made the comment but there is more to it than small feelings. Then again you probably do not remember the other incidents.”>

<”If you mean what happened when you bit me during a previous bout, yes that happened. What are you trying to say? Do you wish me to step down?”>

This back and forth was going nowhere and already in his mind he was giving up what hope he had of resolving this. Throwing his hands up in defeat at how stubborn and oblivious she was being he pushed himself to his feet to move for the door in order to leave. <”What was I thinking… I knew it was impossible to speak of such things with you. Forget I said anything at all.

<”Kete wait,”> she called out while darting in between him and the door, <”You need to tell me what is on your mind, I cannot read it. If you walk away without saying it then it will only cause confusion and more tension.”>

Looking away from her, he tried to organize his own thoughts before shifting his eyes to meet hers. <”I do not know, that is the problem. I do not know how to put to words what I feel. All I know is that before this tension I knew where things stood. You handled the coin, and I the muscle. Sure I snuck more than my fair share of looks at you, but only because it riled you up and I would have to be blind to not see your beauty. But now… it is different.”>

For some reason her expression almost became crestfallen and her eyes fell to the floor while getting out of his way. <”I see… my saying something has made things awkward. I apologize. I… I will just keep my distance so I do not hinder your work.”>

<”Nhaama grant me strength,”> he muttered under his breath.

On one hand he wanted to strangle her for being so dense and on the other he wanted to throw himself out a window for being so ignorant on how to say these things. Thoughts and ideas raced through his head in order for him to decide on how best to continue forward from here. It was clear nothing he said was getting through to her. Which, this wasn’t really all that surprising to him. He was a Xaela, and therefore better with taking action than speaking.

<”It seems I must be more blunt for you to understand,”> he told her with his voice still low. Instead of leaving after saying that he stepped closer to her until he had her nearly pinned up against the wall. Then moving to raise her head up to look at him with one hand he lowered himself to bring his lips to hers in a kiss, letting his actions explain what he was failing at explaining.

He could tell that she hadn’t expected it by the way she first started to tense up, but his heart nearly skipped a beat when she began to press into the kiss in response. She wasn’t pulling away or rejecting him, and to him that rekindled that flame of hope. Perhaps there was something to this finger crossing he had heard about. Now he pinned her fully against the wall as his lips pressed harder against hers, continuing the kiss until his lungs began to burn for want of air.

When they parted to both take a much needed breath she ended up looking up at him with confusion in her eyes. <”Kete… why?”> she stammered out, <”We’re partners… we… we cannot. It could interfere with the business.>”

<”Business?”> he countered with an incredulous tone, though he was still very much out of breath, <”Is that truly all you can think of. I could care less, and why?”> Pausing there he stared into her eyes, making his own seem to almost flash brighter than they normally did. <”Because for some reason my blood burns as if I had Azim’s fire in me when you are near.”>

<”W-what?”> she continued to stammer, almost as if unable to comprehend any of it, <”But.. How? Why? I am nothing more than a merchant. Besides, I only have a crush, yes a crush and nothing more. But… I like hearing this… why do I like hearing this?”>

Her hands were covering her horns as she all but started to panic right there. Now he knew that it was not just him who had a hard time with such things after all. <”You are Xaela, there is no just merchant for us. You fight with Azim’s strength and move with Nhaama’s grace. When and why have no purpose here, especially when we both know it being just a crush is a lie.”>

She was still visibly panicking even more as he went on, unable to let herself just be in the moment. <”But how is this going to help us? How will things run? How can this do anything other than make it difficult for us?”> Each time she found something new to fret about it seemed like she was trying to avoid being close to someone at all. At least that was how he was seeing it.

All he did at first was just shrug in response to the rambling. <”I do not know. In truth I did not think past this part,”> he stated in a matter of fact tone, <”But I do hope we can make it work… and perhaps this will help.”>

Knowing full well that they both recently admitted that the touching of another’s horns was reserved specifically for signs of affection in both of their tribes he brought his hands up to her horns. The touch was gentle and seemingly snapped her out of her panic. She eased against the wall to relax as he moved in to kiss her once more. It may not have gone the way he had hoped, but it was better than he had feared.

[a-forlorn-soul]

Prompt #8: Declaring War

FFXIVWrite2019

Prompt #8: Free day

Rating: Possible NSFW

Warnings: Gore and violence

Timeline: Present

Splinters shattered in every direction as a Hyur was slammed into a crate, though down the Pearl Lane portion of Ul’dah it wasn’t such an uncommon sight. The man gave a cry of pain that was quickly silenced by blood pouring from his throat as a bone knife tore it open. All the gagging sounds of this man did caused his killer to spin on to their next target, a large Roegadyn charging in with a short blade as he tried to move on on the red skinned Xaela who had already managed to dispatch two others as well.

Fury burned in Kete’s eyes while his mind pushed the pain of his wounds back so that he could continue fighting. For so long he had thought that perhaps the two gangs had given up on them since his baiting them had not worked, and then when cutting through the Lane to head deeper into the city for the Airship Landing they struck. Their first strike had left him bleeding as a dagger had hit home in his side, but they had underestimated the veteran warrior who fought on despite the growing list of injuries.

“Why ain’t ye dead ya Twelve damned arse!” shouted the Roegadyn as they collided together.

The force of the collision sent Kete’s bone knife spinning out of reach to leave him completely defenseless. Backing up a few steps he felt the wall behind him cutting off any way of escape as he eyed the armed man coming towards him a bit more cautiously. This was getting desperate as two more shadows stood behind the man, but he refused to give in. He had promised Chabi after all that none other than him would name their children, nor did he intend to leave her with only the Tribe to help. Nhaama help those children if Kaidu and Icarus were ever given responsibility.

As the man lunged forward with his blade Kete briefly closed his eyes and muttered, <”Nhaama guide my hand.”>

He stepped inside of the Roegadyn’s guard using one hand to knock the man’s sword arm wide while the palm of the other smacked right into the man’s jaw. The curses that left his mouth were enough to make even the most vile person in the city blush. Now he had his opening, for all the Roegadyn could do was reel back as blood gushed from his mouth.

Before his opponent could even spit the blood out Kete moved in again, this time punching at the man’s gut to throw him off. This partially worked as the large man with blue skin became infuriated to the point he struck back, landing a rather solid hook across the side of Kete’s face. Yet instead of ending Kete’s assault the Xaela used it to spin around and smack the man with his tail. If nothing else he was proving good at improvisation.

What he did next was enough to horrify anyone who witnessed it, which was why he was going to do it. Rushing in faster he grabbed the man’s head in his hands and slammed it against the stone wall next to them as hard as he could. Something could be heard snapping as the Roegadyn’s eyes rolled up into his skull, but Kete didn’t stop there. Pulling the head back and ignoring the blood on the wall he slammed down again and again.

Blood splurted through his fingers with each blow, leaving a mark of gore on both him and the wall as a result. Still he kept slamming the now dead man’s head into the wall and was screaming while doing so. In that moment the other two shadows saw what many people of Othard had seen when he first had gotten free. A rage filled oni with red skin and eyes that glowed with the intensity of the sun itself. Not even the blood seemed distinguishable from his normal skin color after a few moments of watching the scene unfold.

“Tell your masters. War is now on their steps,” Kete growled once he stopped.

His hands released to corpse to let it crumble, the head not even being recognizable as that. The face had been completely smashed in with pieces of the skull jutting out through the torn skin, blood mingling in everything to further mar any distinguishing features. Even the way it fell to the ground was unsettling, but not as unsettling as the blood coated man he appeared to be barely standing and yet still willing to fight.

“Y-yes… w-we will d-do that,” one of them stammered before they both fled the scene.

The bruises on his face seemed more visible, almost, as the rage started to leave him now that it was over. He slumped against a wall while pressing a hand against the gash in his side, a groan of pain escaping him.

<”Chabi is going to kill me,”> he grumbled to himself before beginning to slowly limp out of the alley, <”And then yell at me… and then kill me again.”>