The Bloodied Shield

by Michael McKenzie

  Oh Gods, Oh Great Pantheon of Light, they were after HER Children!

  The fighting outside the door drew closer, but it had been the rattling of armor that drew her eyes towards the front. She quickly maneuvered herself to shield the young ones but she relaxed on seeing who strode forth.

  Razzar the Red paused, seeing the almost feral look in Zansui's eyes before he knelt over her.

  "They are fine! I am fine!" Zansui choked, clutching at all of her little ones at once. "I just need to get them to safety."

  Razzar suddenly lurched around Zansui towards the back door, and the half-elf turned to see that they had snatched Lord Hayabatsu by the throat and had lifted them, physically, up against the top of the door frame.

  "Friend!" Zansui shouted, immediately snagging at the arm of the living legend, and Razzar turned his eye to her questioningly.

  All the while, Hayabatsu was struggling to stay conscious.

  "It's Lord Hayabatsu," Zansui explained, and Razzar put the man down and offered an apologetic bow.

  "Razzar the Red." Hayabatsu coughed out, leaning against the door frame. "Good to see you again too."

  Razzar's bow deepened slightly.

  "You are forgiven, honest mistake." Hayabatsu croaked, rubbing at their throat. "They have these scum against the wall, shoving them back, but there maybe some still hiding in the trees. I would suggest we head towards the front if you please, we should head for the camp. You and your children will be safe there."

  "My thanks, my Lord." Zansui quickly returned to the children, and Hayabatsu had sheathed his sword to pick up one of the twins, and took Jeria's hand, as Zansui claimed Ellen's.

  Zansui paused a moment to turn towards the Ancient Elf who stood guard. "Razzar, they are wearing green, just make sure they don't follow!"

  Razzar offered a nod, then turned his gaze towards the back door.

  They headed for the front with Razzar heading out to ensure none followed them. They had just passed the bar with Hayabatsu and Zansui both came to a halt.

  The room was cold. Very cold. There was an inkling sensation of fear and dread as their eyes lay on a Kallaxian man with a scar over their face, just across their nose.

  Their weapons were bare, twin swords of Kallaxian make, both of them tinted black. They wore no armor, but what looked to be peasant rags, tattered and worn beyond reckoning. This scarred man had moved to bar their path towards the street out front of the Stone Samurai.

  (Are you in on this as well?) Hayabatsu growled angrily, placing the child down to take a defensive stance before them.

  (No, my Lord, I am not.) they tilted their head forward slightly. (But I will take the advantage garnered to fulfill a contract given. I am not after you.)

  The man, the Shin-no-Kage, directed a sword towards Zansui.

  (Just her.)

  "Unacceptable." Hayabatsu denounced sharply and quickly moved to stand before Zansui. "You cannot have the Daughter of Elandra. Do you not forget what Elandra did for your face?!"

  "If you do not." the man continued, now switching to common, as Hayabatsu had done. "I will kill you, and the children."

  "Oh, that would be a mistake."

  Zansui froze, and turned slowly. That sensation of dread amplified by whom she laid eyes on.

  Sitting in the seat, almost within arms reach, had been Indbore Fel. In their rush to leave, they had overlooked one of the most dangerous men in Dalitrous Gorgreen's employ.

  The blond swordsman stood up, and walked past her and her children and Hayabatsu to stand at their front.

  "You see, I've seen what happens if you harm children," Fel observed, taking a casual stance. "I would rather not suffer that fate, thank you."

  "What trickery is this Fel?!" Zansui demanded, and quickly backed away, once more gathering her children around her to shield them with her body.

  "Zansui shut the fuck up." Fel shot over his shoulder. "Am in no mood to trade words.”

  Fel then turned their full attention on the Kalalxian with the swords. “And you. You were trained like Jeria weren't you?"

  They pulled their skinny, straight sword out, aiming it at the man before him.

  "Yes, you were!" Fel snapped the accusation and to the shock and confusion to Zansui, Indbore Fel and the Shin-no-Kage lurched at each other.

  Zansui pulled her children back, protectively placing them behind the bar, with Hayabatsu standing before them with steel drawn.

  Yet the twin Katana's and that thin, long blade of Fel's did little else but shower the Tavern room floor with sparks. They spun, they twisted, slashed and stabbed, yet neither finding purchase outside of their own weapons.

  It was unreal to watch, mostly in part that Indbore Fel physically placed himself in harm’s way for Zansui and her Family. And the way they fought had been similar to the first time Fel and fought Jeria. Except this time, it was the man who helped in bringing Misery to Westwatch fighting for her.

  The final blow came sudden and decisively. Catching one of the Katana's with that clawed gauntlet, Fel's thin blade immediately rocketed through the other's body, piercing their heart. The look of shock and disbelief graced the Shin-no-Kage’s face, and they stepped back as Fel ripped the sword from their chest.

  As the Kallaxian stared down at the wound, Fel kicked the now dying man in their chest, sending them to the floor. Fel stood where he had delivered the final blow, heaving in gulps of air, trying to recover.

  "You killed him," Hayabatsu remarked, rather astonished.

  "Why? Was he important?" Fel questioned, looking annoyed.

  "That had been one of the last Shin-no-Kage, Iji Jusu." Hayabatsu remarked, still rather surprised at what had transpired before them all. "They are, were, a swordsman without peer."

  "Ah. So no one important then." Fel spat down on the body before him. He cleaned his sword, sheathed it, before finding a seat to sit down in to inspect the hand he had caught the blade.

  Razzar had entered as soon as they heard combat from this direction, and leaned heavily against their halberd to watch what was transpiring.

  "What trickery is this Fel?" Zansui repeated her question. "What is Gorgreen doing now?!"

  "Fuck Gorgreen," Fel shouted back at her, standing up from where he sat. The man's face was red with rage, and spittle flew from his mouth. "Fuck that bastard. Fuck everything about him. Fuck him in the face with a razor sharp instrument of some form of pain dealing device, while it's on fire."

  When Fel had finished fuming, they returned to their chair, and slumped into it, placing their hands in their face.

  Gray, the Fox, sat on the counter near Razzar, even as Zansui turned to the Elf as if he could provide some sort of explanation.

  "Gorgreen attempted to have him killed," Gray said, and Zansui straightened slightly. "He is taking the attempt hard."

  "It is a trick. He slew Grigs' Mother!" Zansui nearly snarled, throwing a finger towards Fel, who did not react.

  "Then this will be an interesting conversation between Grigs and Fel wouldn't it?" Gray replied undaunted, nor were they moving.

  "He is a liar and a murderer."

  "Razzar can personally vouch that the God of Assassins himself was meant to kill Indbore Fel." both Gray and Razzar turned towards Zansui. "Instead, Sol'reve has given Fel a mission, one Razzar thinks you share, but not have shared with us."

  "I do not understand." Zansui stammered, completely confused and bewildered. "A God as in title or-"

  "-Explain to me." Gray matched Razzar's posture, and they both stared hard into Zansui's face. "Everything that happened when you found yourself beneath Mistfire."

  "And I," Razzar stressed, tapping himself on the chest with his fingers. "Do mean everything."

  <><><><><><><>

  Charles and Grigs both wondered the outside of the warehouse, looking around themselves. Many of the Akuza Samurai fought to the death. Others retreated within, where a few Royal Infantry followed after Jeria's insane charge into the deepest parts of their
ranks.

  Some of the Akuza Samurai were only Kallaxian descent and were little more than thugs with swords. They surrendered and cowered when they realized they were beaten.

  Many of the Rilstarins in Kallaxian gear surrendered as well, yet there were still many dead at their feet. Despite maybe a few hundred having died or wounded, the narrow street made it appear much, much worse.

  Grok never strayed far from Grigs' side, and the Tiefling was leaning heavily against the Worg, using them as support as they picked around the body strewn street.

  "Are you going to make it?" Charles asked Grigs as they approached.

  "Where is Jeria?" Grigs demanded, pushing himself away from the Worg. "Did he head inside?"

  "Yes, cut a hole right through the door."

  "Great, best fetch a healer just in case he got his head smashed in again." Grigs offered, limping behind Royal Infantry who progressed into the Warehouse with shields raised.

  What greeted them had been an almost surreal sight.

  Yes. The carnage that Jeria wrought had been noticeable. Some were slain with their own weapons, while others were hacked to pieces before they were even allowed to fall.

  However near the largest section of the Warehouse, sitting down on a stool and covered in blood had been Jeria Warstalker. They were drinking from a bowl, sword sheathed at the hip, while Royal Infantry and men in Uginaga Colors worked to tend to the wounded.

  And the green clad men were still wearing swords at their hips!

  Jeria glanced towards Charles and Grigs with a soft frown and a roll of his eyes, but other than the blood the man appeared unscathed.

  "What happened?" Charles demanded, and Jeria raised a brow to him.

  "They admitted defeat." Jeria replied as if it was obvious, and he was rather annoyed with the prospect "So they stopped fighting."

  "What?"

  "It is as close to 'surrender' a Samurai is willing to go without dying." Jeria offered with a frown. "They admitted defeat and stopped fighting. Now they are assisting in collecting the wounded."

  "I-" Charles looked around confused and then sighed. "-so I am insulting the actual Samurai outside right now, by taking their weapons away and having them squat in a crowd waiting to be imprisoned?"

  "If they were Samurai, more than likely." Jeria offered with an indifferent shrug. "Regardless, there was a dwarf here, a young one with a temper. They collapsed the tunnel that kept me from catching up with the Bosu who was in charge."

  "Tunnel?" Charles asked, shaking his head further. "That would explain the dwarven connection."

  "Yes, the tunnel was in the basement, connected to the sewers it seems."

  "Where is the dwarf?"

  Jeria made a gesture with the sake bowl. "He is over there."

  Then the Samurai gestured again, this time further off to the side. "And over there."

  "You killed him," Grigs grunted, and sat own on a box. "Great."

  "After he was dead the Samurai stopped fighting. Which really confused the Akuza's men." Jeria observed, finishing the liquor. "Made them easier to pick out."

  "You killed them as well didn't you?" Grigs noted but did not really have much disappointment in his voice.

  "Yes. The Uginaga Samurai are only a threat to our Family or the people of Rilstar so long as Uginaga is a threat to our Family and the people of Rilstar. The Akuza in Uginaga's employ will be a threat so long as they believe they can threaten us."

  "Griffon at the door!" someone shouted, followed quickly by a "Message for Lord Warstalker!"

  They bearer of the message passed it to Grigs, who scowled and held it out to Charles.

  "Still can't read?" The Rilstarin Lord chuckled, and took up the parchment to read before they could stop him, "Mind if I-"

  The smile died, Charles dropped the parchment to stare at Grigs.

  "-Horses!" Charles shouted, and quickly picked Grigs up off the crate. "Jeria with me!"

  "What's wrong?" Grigs demanded, and Jeria snatched up the parchment as he followed to read it himself.

  And then Worg Rider was out the door faster than either of them, shouting for Grok.

  "What's wrong?!" Grigs again asked, and now could get a sense something terrible has happened. Jeria had said nothing as he flung himself on Grok and spurred them down the street.

  "The Stone Samurai was attacked while we were fighting here," Charles said, and quickly aided Grigs into the saddle. "Zansui and the children are alright."

  Charles mounted the horse brought to him, and Grigs was already starting to shake.

  The Tiefling knew. He knew before Charles could continue, they had bolted away even as their Cousin could form the words.

  "Captain!" Charles shouted for, and the Officer approached, awaiting orders. "Pool all the Kallaxians in green together and under extremely heavy guard. Do not disarm them. Do not antagonize them."

  "I have a feeling this is not going to end well for anyone tonight."

  <><><><><><><>

  Grigs had first engulfed his children into his arms when he arrived. They clung to him, shaking like leaves and still confused on the events that were happening around him.

  Jeria's Raiders, bloodied, battered and wounded, lined the Tavern wall, and were all kneeling, with head bowed in humble submission. Even Hayabatsu had joined them, and Dratin simply gave Grigs a mournful glance towards a table set in the center of the tavern room floor.

  Standing before it had been Jeria and Razzar. Jeria who had closed his eyes, and simply bowed his head in silence. Razzar had removed his ever-present turban and scarf and offered Grigs a respectful nod, and they slowly parted.

  On the table, had been Triden Mastershield, and Grigs could not find the strength to stand anymore.

  Zansui and her own Father, Jeria, helped carry him closer as Grig’s legs failed him.

  From the Tiefling's lips had been wail that even made Jeria flinch in sympathy. Outside Grok joined the mournful cry, unsure of what was happening but knew one of his pack had fallen by the sound.

  Zansui and his children quickly clung to Grigs, adding grief and trying to comfort each other.

  Silence did not come soon, but when it fell, all rose, but no one dared break it.

  Chapter 19

  No one stirred, no one spoke. They simply allowed the Family of the Dwarf take as much time as they needed to.

  And then Grigs caught Indbore Fel in the corner of his tear soaked eyes, completely indifferent to what was happening before him.

  "You!" Grigs snarled, and escaped Zansui and his Children with a shrug.

  "You!" Grigs repeated, barreling past two of Jeria's Raiders to grab after the blond headed swordsman. Everyone scattered and many unsteady hands went to already battle worn weapons.

  "Yes?" Fel asked, and as Grigs snatched at him, the Swordsman easily maneuvered away. "Me."

  "You killed my Mother and you finished the job on my Father?!" Grigs shouted, nearly screeching in rage induced hysteria.

  Grigs drew his swords and Fel, in kind, drew their own.

  "Fel had nothing to do with this." Gray, the Fox, defended the Swordsman, while Razzar strayed close enough to stop any serious fight.

  "I don't believe you!" Grigs snarled, and lashed out at Fel.

  The exchange had been brief. Grigs, racked with grief and enraged, was still hurting and winded. Fel easily exploited Grigs' obvious wound across his thighs by slapping them with the flat of that thin sword.

  Grigs stumbled, and fought to keep himself on his feet.

  "I did not kill the Dwarf on the table." Fel offered, retreating from Grigs though kept his sword in hand. "I came here with Razzar for my own reasons."

  "You killed my Mother!" Grigs roared, surging forward again "You son of a whore you killed my Mother!"

  "Says who?" Fel asked dismissively.

  Grigs pointed towards Triden. "My Father, the former Lorekeeper of the Shadow Guild in Westwatch, who had been married to the Guild Leader."

  Then Gri
gs pointed at Fel.

  "Who you murdered."

  Indbore Fel's eyes rounded a moment, then it was quickly replaced with that impassive mask. "It had been a fair fight, not murder!"

  "Lying bastard!" Grigs shouted, and again lunged after Fel.

  Fel again avoided the attacks altogether, and Grigs found himself on the floor once more, staggering and weak.

  "It was a one on one duel, and she died quickly and cleanly." Fel offered as he sheath his sword. "I was not the one who beheaded her, however, nor am I the one who put her head in a box and shipped it to Keystone."

  "You bastard!"

  "Yes! I am a bastard." Fel snarled, and as Grigs tried to stand up, the Swordsman put boot to his chest and shoved him back to the floor. "But she accepted the fight, she could have run or hid."

  “She stood and fought to the last breath.” Fel finished, keeping sword in hand as he nearly spat down on them. “It was an Honorable Duel, and I did not come out unscathed.”

  Zansui quickly moved to cradle Grigs, who could not rise anymore, and both were glaring up at Fel with hate.

  And then Jeria stood behind her, leveling a menacing glare at Fel.

  The swordsman turned from it.

  "I am here because Razzar the Red brought me here." Fel continued, retreating a step away from them. "I would offer my sympathies, but I am neither wanted nor wish to be here."

  A punch caught him off guard. There was very little behind it and Fel look down to see a child had smashed their hand right into the metal plating of his armor. They did it again when Fel made eye contact with the boy, again, little impact, the young one did not know how to throw a good punch.

  "You leave my Daddy alone!" the boy shouted angrily. Fel noticed that the Warstalker children had once again moved to embrace their Father, fear in their eyes, and in their hearts.

  Yet the one before him, the dark-haired one with the dark, violet eyes that matched the eyes of the Tiefling they claimed as their 'Daddy'. They stood protectively before the huddled group and now all eyes were on Indbore Fel. Hands were on swords, bodies were leaned forward.

  Fel had half a mind to backhand the boy, and even Jeria seemed ready to lunge at him as if reading that very thought. They all knew Indbore Fel very well.