The Raven, The Crane and The Fox

[Raven Nightfoot]

49th of Fall, 513AV It was a rather uneventful day in the religious city of Nyka, its weather was unremarkable and the cities inhabitants even more so. Raven was making her way through the streets of the Southern Quarter, exploring out of boredom, the cities harsh laws against theft kept her swift hands at bay and she was beginning to wonder why she hadn't just travelled directly to Sunberth instead of stopping in this boring city. As she walked through the crowded streets of the city lost in her daydreams she accidentally collided with someone quite roughly causing her to stumble before regaining her footing and turning to apologise. Sorry about tha..." her apology was cut short as she was forced to jump out of the way, narrowly avoiding a punch aimed directly at her face. Quickly she regained her stance to see that she had bumped into a furious looking monk, his breathing was loud and harsh and his teeth were bared. Raven noticed he had a fresh bruise over his left eye and assumed he had probably recently lost a fight, which would explain his mood. "What the petch! It was an accident." she exclaimed but was greeted with a growl and another punch aimed at her abdomen this time, once again she dived out of the way and got back to her feet. 'Monks? More like bullies.' she heard the words in her head, something someone had warned her about the monks of Nyka. Raven was now in her fighting stance watching the angry monk, the crowded street was suddenly quiet as people looked on curiously. Raven shrugged her shoulders, if it was a fight he wanted then he'd get one, but before she could launch a single attack she felt something hard slam into her side sending her flying through the air. She landed with a thud and grunt on the ground and rolled to a stop, now lying on her front looking dazed and confused as she pushed herself up onto her feet, her hair covered her face and through the spaces between the dark strands she could see that she'd been tackled by another monk. Raven brushed the dirt off of herself and pulled her hair out of her face as she spoke, "Two against one hardly seems fair, especially since all I did was ACCIDENTALLY bump into you." she said gesturing to the first monk with her amber eyes. Raven knew this wasn't good, the monks were the authorities in the city, not to mention trained fighters, she might have been able to stand her ground against one of them, but definitely not two. She snapped out of her thoughts as the first monk came charging at her once more causing her to jump to the side and break into a run. Flight had won over Fight as she ran through the crowded streets trying her best to avoid bumping into anyone. She could hear the monks hot on her heels and knew that if she couldn't gain speed they would be on her in no time. Her amber eyes searched worriedly for an escape route and that's when she saw it, between two houses in the street were a bunch of wooden crates piled atop each other, the buildings in Nyka were close enough to one another to make the roofs a valid option. Quickly she ducked out of the crowded street jumping atop the first crate and reaching up to climb the second one, from there she pulled herself up onto the roof of the house pausing for a second to take a breath before getting to her feet and running once more. She could hear the monks angry shouts from behind her and turned to see one emerging from the alley. As she ran Raven noticed that she could see most of Nyka from the roofs, obviously it was a bad idea to run toward the cities high boundary walls so instead she ran in the opposite direction hoping to lose the monks somewhere within the city. The roofs were a much faster way of travel, no longer hindered by the crowds below as she ran jumping from roof to roof, every now and then there was a building that was a bit far from the one she was currently on and instead of landing with a gentle crouch she'd have to drop and roll before taking off again. She couldn't help but think of her good friend Savio who she'd left back in Syliras, he was an acrobat and he would have loved free-running across the roofs of Nyka. Raven could feel her breathing become more laboured by the chime as she ran, jumping from roof to roof was quite tiring after all. She turned to see the two monks still pursuing her and cursed under her breath, there weren't many buildings left in this quarter of the city and they were only a few buildings away from her. She jumped off of another roof and only then realised that the next building was not only quite a distance from the one she'd jumped from but was also much lower. Her eyes widened as she wondered if she was going to make the gap and luckily she did, but only just. As she landed, the momentum and force of the landing caused her legs to buckle as she dropped, raising her arms to protect her face and rolled on her side unable to stop herself from going off of the other end of the building. Raven shut her eyes in panic as she fell through the air and felt herself bounce off of something halfway down and then landing in the dirt with a loud grunt, her head spinning from all the rolling as she pushed herself back up trying to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding away inside her chest but she turned and continued running although her body was beginning to ache and she felt a stitch forming in her side. She slowed down and dusted herself off as she approached one of the bridges that linked the southern quarter of the city to the celestial quarter. Casually she walked across the bridge and it's guards as she made her way across it knowing the monks chasing her wouldn't dare cause trouble in this quarter. After a bit of jogging through the quarter she saw another bridge ahead, a few people were crying as they looked down over the edge and Raven assumed it to be The Bridge Of The Dead where people went to mourn their loved ones. If she could just make it across the bridge and into the northern quarter she might be safe, hopefully. As she crossed the bridge she heard the loud footfalls of the two angry monks behind her and her heart dropped. She couldn't run anymore, her lungs were on fire and her legs were aching as she knelt down trying to catch her breath. "It was an accident! I told you!" she shouted although she sounded more annoyed than apologetic now as she slowly straightened up to look at them. Both their hoods had fallen down and she saw now that the monk with the bruised eye was bald whereas the second had dark hair that was cut very short, only a few inches in length. The monks were also trying to catch their breath but looked even more furious than they had been originally...it was clear they had no intentions of giving up on the fight.

[Shouta]

The Bridge of the Dead. A place of quiet reflection and hushed prayer. A stoney path of remembrance for the loved and lost. Shouta had a few loved and lost he couldn’t help but think of as he stood upon this arch of stone. The material of the newly rebuilt bridge linking the Celestial and Northern Quarters was salvaged from the broken areas of Nyka that had been ravaged by that hellish storm.

The soft thump of footfall roused Shouta out of his hazy past sorrows and refocused his attention on the present. Specifically on a young lady of undeniable beauty as she mounted the bridge from the Celestial side and came tearing at him. Shouta liked to think he was not prone to swooning, but he felt the cold heart inside his chest flutter as she fell to the cobbled crossway floor.

The monk of Uphis rose from his slouched position against one of the walls and set out to help her up. ”It was an accident! I told you!” Momentary confusion set in, and the Ethaefal monk was bewildered as to why she had said that. Then the two thuggish monks pursuing her came rushing onto the bridge. One was bald, the other with a short crop of hair. Neither were monks of the Sharp Blade.

“What call for a chase such as this, where you would disturb this special place of reflection?” Shouta called out to the monks, standing protectively next to Raven. His frayed robes, stained with blood and dirt, just barely brushed against her. He gently let out some slack from his kusarigama, the chain singing it’s gentle melody in the air. The move was not very subtle, to say the least. But then again, he had not been a historically subtle man.

The monks were breathing hard and their robes were in a state of disarray that bespoke their heated pursuit. This woman must have done something terribly wrong for them to follow her all the way to the District of the Sharp Blades. But she was here now, and this was not their domain.

“She has wronged us! Insulted the office you and I hold!” Said one of the monks, accusations thick with spite. Shouta saw, upon closer scrutiny, that the monk had a fresh bruise over one eye. Perhaps she had gave the monk a walloping? Unlikely. Most people knew not to irritate the monks.

The monk of Uphis turned purple Vanthan eyes upon the girl. She did not quite look the part of a Nykan. Her features did not look as though they were far off, just not quite discernible. Or perhaps Shouta was just not practiced at such deductions. Or perhaps he was distracted be her astounding beauty. Either way, the sentinel of the Bridge of the Dead would hear her side before making any decision that would cause her harm.

[Raven Nightfoot]

As she stood there, her chest expanding and contracting as she tried desperately to catch her breath she heard another voice come from behind her followed by a gentle brush of material against her exposed skin and all she could do was wince and think 'Great ANOTHER one'. There was an eery silence as the four stood, interrupted only by the sound of Raven and the two monks of Skerr's heavy breathing. Then the silence was shattered by the familiar clinking and ringing of a metal chain coming from beside Raven causing a shiver to run down her spine. As she turned to see the monk at her side the first thing that caught her eye was the bright gleam of his blade and Raven swallowed nervously. She was either going to die right here and now or she was going to survive...seriously injured. Both outcomes weren't favourable in the least but she was still to tired to run or fight. The armed monk turned to look at her and at first she was captivated by his unusual yet beautiful purple eyes, the next feature to hit her was his straight dark her, resembling her own and then finally his face, he looked young, around her age and he looked foreign as if he came from somewhere, but not like the drykas with their strong chiselled faces, instead somewhere on the opposite of the spectrum. As she looked nervously at the monk who was slightly taller than her, his body concealed by his robe, she couldn't help but think he was handsome...even if he was about to kill her.

[Shouta]

“I’m sorry brother, you have crossed out of your District and into mine. Therefore, what happens to her is for me to decide.” Shouta intoned to shut the monk up. His groveling, emotional nature was what gave the monks a bad name in the city. Shouta turned eyes who's purple hue evaporated into a deep orange onto the other monks in distain. Monks of the Bountiful Wheat no less.

The woman did not bear arms, not have any item of worth in her hands. The Ethaefal’s limited powers of deduction told him this must be some sort of personal slight. But he forced himself from making a judgement before he heard her out. After all, these were the chosen representatives of one of the Celestials, and he was forced to respect that.

The monk ignored his compatriots and kept his attention on the woman beside him. Admittedly, that was not hard to do. “What’s the story, miss?” He asked quietly. Since the arrival of the woman and the monks, and Shouta’s readying his weapon, people had stopped feeling the need to cross the Bridge of the Dead. They were alone now, surrounded by the candles lit in memory of the deceased.

[Raven Nightfoot]

The handsome monk spoke again and to Raven's amazement he wasn't mindlessly joining his fellow monks on their quest to slay her for the most unnecessary reason known to mizahar. This new development meant that all was not lost, no, she still had a chance to improve her odds. Finally her breathing had calmed down and the stitch in her side had disappeared but her legs still ached slightly. “What’s the story, miss?” Raven felt a small smile touch her face, at least all of the monks were bad. She took a deep breath and released it, visibly relaxing and regaining her usual relaxed and confident composure. It was time to turn on the charm. She turned her head to look at the handsome and so far reasonable monk, a friendly smile on her face as she spoke, "Well, I was minding my own business and accidentally bumped into your friend over there..." she said pointing at the bald and bruised monk accusingly, "...which is when he decided to attack me at which point your OTHER friend joined in. So naturally I ran, what else could I do?" she finished off. Her tone was not apologetic at all, instead she spoke casually as if it were just everyday chit-chat.

[Shouta]

The monk got the feeling this woman was quite used to men chasing her. Her version of events seemed harmless enough, though could provoke a similar response from any monk of any district. The other monk had been vague in his explanation as well. That lead Shouta to believe it was simply a clumsy bump. He grimaced at the bald monk of Bountiful Wheat.

“What, you bruise from a bump? Was this small thing too much might for you to handle?” Shouta’s natural arrogance was in full swing now. The monk truly believed that the monks of the Sharp blade were the greatest warriors in this city, and it shone through his eyes. “Forget your quarrel, Monk of the bountiful Wheat. I promise her bumps will not bruise any more monks as long as she remains in the District of the Sharp Blades.” He waved dismissively at the other’s and turned to the woman.

“Wait there, huh? You think I’m letting you take our prey just like that? I’m not afraid of you or your Sharp Blades!” The monk stomped his feet in anger. He was turning red again. Apparently he had been expecting a fellow monk to hand the girl over.

OOCI didn't want to be the one to make anyone attack since this is your thread, but when you make them attack i'll follow your lead!

[Raven Nightfoot]

The exchange continued and it seemed the monk she had bumped in was especially arrogant, or perhaps it was well earned confidence, she sincerely hoped he could back up his attitude if the other monks attacked, but then again if he decided to join his fellow monk's unjust conquest she hoped he was useless. Raven had considered dashing off while the monks argued amongst themselves but decided against it, the handsome monk seemed as if he was trying his best to remain impartial, so running off would only make her seem guilty and so she decided to stay and see the outcome of the heated discussion. Then the bald monk called her 'prey', if that wasn't a clear indication of her innocence then she didn't know what was. To her relief it seemed as if the handsome monk could see that the other monks were attacking her purely out of spite and with the other monks angered responses it seemed that a fight was imminent. Raven's eyes went to the gleaming blade in the handsome knight's grasp and she feared that the battle would be bloody, as the thought crossed her mind she unknowingly took a precautionary step backwards. She noticed how the bald monk's face became heated by anger, the rage clearly boiling just beneath the surface until finally he could restrain himself no more and dashed toward Raven, his hand outstretched as if to grab her by the throat as he roared angrily. Raven's amber eyes widened in surprise at the monk's sudden assault as she jumped back out of his reach and then jumped again to the side to put the handsome monk between herself and her attacker as she shot him a questioning look, Raven didn't want to retaliate against the monk lest it make things worse for her. "May I defend myself!?" she asked trying to sound calm although the panic broke through slightly. Just as Raven spoke the second monk of Skerr decided to join in on the fight transforming it from a duel to a mini-battle as it seemed there was no way to avoid the situation at hand. Raven mentally cursed herself for attracting so much bad luck.

[Shouta]

The monk lunged at the woman, his hand contorted to a vile claw. She ducked away and moved behind Shouta. The girl was quick on her feet as well as with her tongue. Good, she would need that in Nyka. Shouta’s lifted his leg, knee almost to his abdomen, and then slammed it down again on the side of the monk’s knee without even turning to face him. His groan of pain was satisfying to Shouta’s ears.

“I think we are past asking permission, Ma’am.” Shouta breathed shortly, raising his hands to defend himself from the second monk, who made an attempt to tackle him. The deadly kusarigama around his neck hung limp and untouched. He would not bring weapons into the fray before the others, but feared for his ability to fight two monks without it.

He gasped as the second monk hit him hard in the shoulder with his own. Shouta toppled and impacted the cobbled stones of the Bridge of the Dead with a force he had not expected. It knocked the wind out of his lungs and he was barely able to brace an elbow in front of himself before the monk landed on it hard.

The impact, though hitting the monk hard in the solar plexus, cause a sharp pain to erupt through Shouta’s arm. They were face to face and both moaned in pain. Shouta could not see what the woman or the other monk were doing, but he was only concerned with this damn Bountiful Wheat monk. The audacity of some monks. He was a man of the Sharp Blade! His patron was the embodiment of deadly martial skill. Did they think him a pushover?

Shouta struggled to get a grip on the monk’s head to keep him from moving. He felt his now dusty fingers trace brown paths across leathery skin. “Siding wish a… foreign wensh! You despicable shyke!” The other growled through a face full of Shouta’ hand. His stank breath drifted through Shouta’s nostrils and their robes rode up into disarray as they grappled with each other.

Shouta spat in the monk’s face, trying for the eyes. The other squinted and jerked his head back wildly. It was the moment Shouta had been trying for. He shot his hand out and grabbed the monk’s throat, hard. Bringing his head up he connected viciously with the monk’s mouth. The first hit caused far too much pain to be executed correctly. The immediate throbbing in his head told Shouta he had hit too low on his own skull. The headbutt was a risky move, and had to be executed perfectly or else it would cause the combatant as much pain as the victim.

He could not give up the fight though. He slammed his skull into the mouth of the other again, harder this time. He felt blood tricking down his forehead as the top of it connected with teeth. The monk rolled violently off of Shouta. He winced and rolled onto his hands and knees. Sparks flew through his vision as he tried to focus on the stones beneath him. His eyes trailed off to a small pool of blood collecting under his face, where his forehead dripped the dark liquid onto the Bridge of the Dead.

[Raven Nightfoot]

Raven watched as the handsome monk delivered two swift attacks to the bruised one without so much as a glance. A smirk found it's way to Raven's face as she saw the fluidity of his movement and she almost found herself saying 'impressive'. “I think we are past asking permission, Ma’am.” Her brow furrowed at the monks words, "Ma'am? Do I look like a ma'am to you? she said teasingly but before the handsome monk had time to respond the bald one lunged for her yet again. Raven ducked under his punches and jumped away from his kicks, he was a monk, he was a trained hand to hand fighter, or at least that's what she'd heard. She doubted she'd be able to best him with her combat skill alone so she would have to rely on her agility, hopefully the monk wasn't superior in that as well. The monk let out a flurry of punches which Raven only narrowly avoided by back stepping from side to side until she felt something cold and hard against her lower back. A shiver of panic shot through her as she realised she had no more room to dodge, she was between a rock and a hard place. With no more room to dodge Raven decided it was time to go on the offensive. As the monk lunged for her again trying to grab her once more, Raven lifted her leg stomping her foot into his chest which sent him stumbling back with a grunt. Now feeling slightly more confident in her chances Raven decided to continue her attacks. First she delivered a straight kick which barely made contact with the monk's chest, although not even a grunt of pain escaped his lips. Next was a high swoop kick aimed at his head which the monk ducked under completely avoiding and finally she attacked with another straight kick aimed at his abdomen. Unfortunately, the monk anticipated her last kick and grabbed the ankle of her boot tightly and held onto it. Raven now slightly panicked tried to pull her leg free in vain and the next moment he had shoved her forward sending her stumbling back and slamming into the stone boundary wall of the bridge with a grunt as the pain shot up through her back. Before the pain had time to subside the monk lunged at her again with a low kick, but this time Raven jumped up onto the edge, avoiding the kick. Now disheartened by her lack of success she decided to go back on the defensive as she jumped over the monk's attempts to grab at her legs and accidentally landed on his hand causing him to shout in pain as he jumped back. The short pause have Raven a chance to look behind her which she instantly regretted as her stomach lurched at the sight of the Aperture far below. When she returned her gaze to the bruised monk he was still standing far back and had drawn what looked like an especially dangerous whip. Raven's eyes widened at the sight of the whip, it looked like a cat'o'nine-tails, she recognised it because her parents had wanted her too choose it as her weapon when she was younger and they were insisting that she learn to use a weapon of her choice. Raven had chosen a whip and her parents had suggested a cat'o'nine-tails because it was quite dangerous, which was exactly why Raven had decided to go with a less harmful whip. She watched as the monk swung his arm in a circle over his head before throwing it forward, his movements were mimicked by the whip as it snaked to life and struck forward although Raven had already jumped forward and to the side landing gently back on the cobbled floor of the bridge as she began running trying to put space between herself and the whip and stopping at the far end of the bridge to turn around, breathing loudly. Raven wanted to flee for her own safety but couldn't bring herself to leave the handsome monk to battle the two attacking monks alone, not after he had given her an unbiased and impromptu trial and then went against his own brethren to defend her.

[Shouta]

Taking the bald one’s lead, the other monk got to his feet and drew his whip as well. His face bleeding from the broken nose and one missing tooth. Both men grimaced at them, cracking their whips experimentally. A crowd was forming on either end of the bridge. Nykan citizens often found tussles like this between the four monastic orders very entertaining.

Shouta’s frown creased his face slightly more, the satisfaction settling in. His purple eyes swirled and were changed to a darker orange. They had given him an excuse to draw. Though he was only passable at hand to hand, he was well versed in the art of his chosen weapon.

The chain sang as he pulled his kusarigama from about his neck.

“Careful how you conduct yourself on the Bridge of the Dead, gentlemen. The things of the Aperture are always watching from beneath.” He raised his eyebrows and glanced down meaningfully.

“What does a Vanthan know of the Aperture? We are true monks of the city, and we do not fear it’s monsters!” The bald one spat. Bold words, and the Ethaefal would not have expected much else from a proud monk of Nyka. Truly these were worthy opponents.

“Careful, they might hear you.” Shouta said in a carrying voice. He snapped his foot out, kicking the fox head weight into the sky. As the weapon reached it’s zenith, he flicked the chain and began to send it into a practiced orbit around his body. The slow, easy pace of the weight was easy to underestimate. Shouta knew the damage he could do with the weight was lasting and possibly crippling. But they had disrespected his legitimacy as a monk of Nyka.