Jump to content
The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Recommended Posts

Posted (edited)

The night was quiet, peaceful. Not a dog barked, not an owl called its lonely cry to the moon. The moon itself was huge and golden, casting its light along the grass in front of the private barracks, owned by the most prodigious merchant in the land.

 

And also the most hated crime lord.

 

Across the lawn stole a shadow. It went so fast that any who might have even seen it would not be sure it was actually there, and they swiftly dismissed it from their minds.

The shadow arrived at the wall and clung to it, a pair of sparkling eyes reflecting the moonlight. For a brief instance that shadow stepped into the light to peek up at the unwary guards, completely oblivious to the fact that they were about to be infiltrated. The light streamed over the tall young man's lean body like silver, shadowing his lean muscles. His dark eyes glittered with knowledge and wicked amusement. His hair, dark and long enough to hang into his eyes, was ruffled and unkempt. Across his face was a dark blue mask, the light of the moon casting his hidden facial features into sharp shadow. Linen wrappings covered his hands and legs, strange golden shoes adorning his feet. His dark blue vest helped him blend into the night; a red tattoo upon his bicep twitched as he moved. A katana was sheathed at his back, and a pouch of shurikan hung from his belt. A small twitch of his mask hinted at the hidden smile, and he melted back into the shadows.

 

The ninja stole along the border of the barracks until he came to an air vent. Eyeing it, he recognized it as the one he had noted on his prior investigation. The screws were old and loose, and he easily, silently pried the cover off. The opening was only big enough for a very narrow, very slender man. Luckily, the ninja was both.

 

The ninja leapt lightly into the vent and crawled along on hands and knees, his clothing rustling gently in the slight breeze that came from the air system. He paused, cocking his head and sniffing the air. For a moment it seemed as if he would draw a shurikan, as if an enemy was fast approaching, but then he continued on as if nothing had given him reason to pause. He passed many vents, eyeing the rooms they led to, lights on, filled with talking soldiers, samurai, and ninjas, but he entered none of them.

 

Finally he came to the room he was searching for. The lights were off and in a huge plush bed, fast asleep, lay the short fat man that the ninja had come to visit. Peering through the vents, his eyes narrowed as he felt contempt and rage fill his throat with galling ferocity. How many livelihoods had this single man crushed with his mindless greed? How many innocents had he imprisoned? Well, that would all end tonight.

 

Gently pressing outwards, the ninja loosed the vent from its holding and then drew it back in after him, setting it down noiselessly. He crawled out of the vent and landed on the floor in a crouch, eyeing his surroundings. Outside, sillouheted against the light of the hall, was the shadow of a guard. A long rod-shaped shadow branching from the guard's shoulder told the ninja that he was armed with a long blade, probably a katana. But that did not matter. If all went well he would be gone before they even knew of his deed.

 

The ninja crept up to the merchant's bedside and stared down at him, fingering the long knife he held in his hand. For a moment he paused in memory of those he knew and loved who had been harmed by this thoughtless, evil man. What he was doing was right and just. He raised the knife, his eyes narrowing with concentration.

 

A dog's booming bark shattered the silence, and the man beneath the knife-point jerked awake. Startled, the ninja did not move quickly enough, and the merchant cried out. With a muted curse the ninja sheathed his long knife and drew his katana as guards rushed through the door.

 

A few clashing blows were struck, the ninja backing up towards the vent. He could not get in like this, he knew it. Transfering his katana to his right hand, he reached into his shurikan pouch with his left, parrying all blows as he did so. With a cry he drew a small black ball from the pouch and threw it on the ground. Thick, choking smoke exploded into the room, and while the clumsy guards coughed and tried to get free of the shroud, the ninja stole away among their ranks.

 

When the smoke cleared, the guards looked around frantically for the shadow that had disappeared. He was nowhere to be seen. And neither was the merchant.

 

The ninja carried the unconscious crime lord back to his village and dumped him upon the ground in front of his superior. "Here," he said in a soft, melodic voice. "Do with him as you wish. But make sure that his punishment is equal to every crime he has commited." Without another word the ninja slipped away into the forest.

 

The ninja arrived at a small hut and entered, flopping upon the modest cot with a sigh. He lay there for a moment as sunlight filtered through his window and he soaked up the peace. A fox-squirrel peered at him from a treebranch, visible through his open window. It cocked its head and scrambled over to him, landing on his chest as he took a flying leap from the branch. The ninja chuckled dryly and scratched the small black fellow behind the ear. "Hello Orchiru," he muttered. "I'm home."

 

A footstep at his door revealed how tired the ninja really was. Sitting up with a start, wondering why he hadn't heard the visitor before, the ninja stood and bowed to the lady who had appeared at his hut. Dressed in ninja garb covered by a flowing kimono, the lady of the village smiled at him cooly. "They have finished with the trial of the merchant and he has been repayed for all his evils. Finally he has reaped what he has sown. Thank you Kikuyu."

 

Kikuyu bowed his head. "What he did also affected me, my lady," he whispered.

 

The lady's face contorted in forgotten pain. "Ah yes," she whispered. "I'd forgotten about your mother and sister. I am truly sorry. But now they are avenged, and you can rest."

 

Kikuyu placed a hand on the hilt of his blade. "I am a ninja, Princess," he said. "I will not rest from protecting my home from those who wish to destroy it."

 

A hint of a smile wrinkled the corners of the Princess's eyes. "I would hope so, Kikuyu Black Paws. If you were no longer here, I would not feel safe."

 

Kikuyu bowed and watched the Princess move silently away from his home. He sat back on his cot and tickled the little fox-squirrle's nose, his expression sombre. Yes his mother and sister were avenged, their deaths repayed. But it did not fill the gaping hole in his chest. Nothing ever would.

 

* * * *

 

Wyvern, this is all I could come up with in a jiffy. Strangely, it doesn't feel right. My brain isn't communicating my proper and usual vocabulary and descriptions to me....it must be the brain goo (ask Degorram ha ha). I hope you like it.

 

~Kikuyu

Edited by Kikuyu Black Paws
Posted

Kikuyu Black Paws leaned back against a shady file cabinet and crossed his arms over his chest, carefully counting the ticks of the room's Rolodex clock with an increasing sense of annoyance. For all of the applicant's berserker skills, ninja techniques, and pirate bravado, he had no way of summoning Wyvern to the recruitment quarters. And judging by the amount of time that had lapsed since he'd first hid himself within the shadows of the Office, it was going to take the patience of the highlands and lowlands combined (the Irish Main being irrelevent when it comes to patience) just to endure the waiting period.

 

Kikuyu raised his head as a clacking sound disrupted the monotone ticking of the Office clock. He turned towards the open Office window, and stood up straight as he noticed a bandage-covered tail latching onto the window sill like a grappling hook. Two bandage-covered claws quickly complimented the wrapped tail, and a rather wounded-looking Wyvern slowly shoved himself in through the window. The overgrown lizard collapsed into a jumbled pile of Office documents, then lifted himself with a sound of snapping tendons.

 

"Ssssssorry for the wait." Wyvern grunted and staggered forward with a dizzy step. Kikuyu frowned and grabbed the lizard by the arm before he could fall, then directed him to a seat by the Recruiter's desk.

 

"What's with the bandages?"

 

"Oh, nothing. They're, errrr..." Wyvern fished for his Devil's Advocate folder, then pulled out two blank sheets of paper and handed them to Kikuyu. "A new fashion line, which I think I'm gonna call Almost Dragonic Brand Weremumkey Plus™. Those're my fashion designer and sarcaphogus owner credentials, ressspectively."

 

Kikuyu stared at the blank sheets with an equally blank expression, then tossed them into one of the large Office piles as Wyvern turned to his application sheet.

 

"Hmmm..." Wyvern toyed with a loose end of white bandage and twisted it from claw to claw as he read over Kikuyu's application story. "I sssee you've had some experience dealing with winners of the 'most hated crime lord' competitions. I've never really qualified as a crime lord so I've never been able to compete in thossse things, though I have recieved a dishonorable mention or two."

 

Wyvern reached into his desk and pulled out a placard with the words "Villain Most Likely to Accidentally Expose a Crime Lord as an Accomplice" written on it. The lizard waved the "award" in front of Kikuyu's face with a grin, then slid it back into a desk drawer and set Kikuyu's application piece aside.

 

"Lessee here, referencesss." Wyvern tapped a claw on his desktop with a slight snapping-claw-bone sound. "For further bessserker practice, you prolly wanna see Aardvark. Madoka can train you in the mastery of samurai sheperding, though I haven't ssseen her around for ages. On the pirate side of things, waiting for the next International Talk Like a Pirate day is the bessst option I suppose. Oh, and your squirrel friend might wanna seek out Lewis and Simon, if they still scurry around these quarters."

 

With that, Wyvern stamped Kikuyu's application ACCEPTED, then promptly collapsed over to rest his Weremonkey-weary bones.

 

OOC: An ACCEPTED application piece, Kikuyu Black Paws. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! :) I hope you find us a warm and welcoming community to share your writing with. I look forward to reading future stories of yours, as well as to creatively interacting with you in various threads. Apologies for the waiting period, and welcome once again!

×
×
  • Create New...