• Mature • III. Speaking the Language

23rd of Cylus 719

The surrounding lands of Rharne boast several towns and settlements that lie on the northern shores of the River Zynyx. This includes Mistral Village, Caervalle Town, Zynyx Market and Volta.

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Kasoria
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III. Speaking the Language

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23rd Trial, Cylus, 719a
Mistral Woods, northwest of Mistral Village
Dusk



Continued from here


He was making his way down a tunnel, and not just in the obvious sense.

The myriad of deals and wrangles, deceptions and strategies that he'd used to get to this point had been forgotten. They were the wider world, multifaceted and requiring all his attention to manage. This place, in his mind and in the bowels of the earth, was narrower. Less to consider, yet what was to be bore far more import. Here was death and life in every step and swing of a blade. All other concerns were paltry at best, distractions at worst.

The Etzori walked through the passage of rock and stone, lit here and there by blazing torches. The bandits had been here for sometime. After today, it would be naught but a tomb... and not for all of them, either. He used his ears more than his eyes; listened for steps and shouts, running feet and hissing words in the darkness. There was a clamor ahead of him, echoing off walls and damp rocks coated with lichen and crawling things that knew no sun or rain. Impossible to directly define, in terms of distance and number.

It doesn't matter, he thought, words as cold and precise as the stones watching him with blind faces. They're all dead men.

There were no words in his mind as the first man came screaming down the hallway, around a blind corner. Well, mayhap the word "fool" whispered through him, like a disappointed sigh. The ragged man with a shaved skull could have skulked there and sprang from an ambush. Instead he came at Kasoria with his hatchet swinging, spittle flying from a roaring mouth, trusting to shock and fear to rattle the invader-

Clearly, he knew not what had come for him.

Kasoria took a quick step back and swayed in the same direction, hatchet flying in front of his face instead of burying into his skull. He kept going a few yards as the man righted himself, noting that he needed a trill to do so. He'd overextended; trusting surprise and strength to do his job for him. Kasoria would not allow him to make the same mistake. The bandit screamed again and lunged, hatchet swinging backhanded at him this time-

-slamming into the gladius he raised to block it instead, crash of metal becoming thunderous in the narrow tunnel-

SHKKKK

Kasoria's right arm moved almost in the same moment, slashing the karambit horizontally across the man's thigh. Curved blade ripping through flesh and fat and muscle, leaving a hideous, gaping wound ringed with tattered flaps of skin in its wake. More pain than rage filled the next scream from the man as he collapsed down to one knee. He ripped the hatchet back and swung it at Kasoria again, only again the little killer blocked him-

-lunging forwards fast as a striking snake, getting under the reach of the crippled bandit. Right forearm stopping the swing of the hatchet as it slammed into the arm holding it-

-karambit he held slashing down an instant later, reverse edge of the blade slicing through the meat of the man's upper arm. Suddenly the bandit's arm was as nerveless and aflame as his leg, and the hatchet dropped-

-still falling, useless and forgotten, no help to him now, just as no force in Idalos could have stopped-

-the gladius in Kasoria's left hand thrusting forwards. The little man's face was twisted into a grimace of effort, as he swung his hips and shoulders into the blow and-

CRUNCH

The short sword did exactly what it was designed to do: punched through flesh and bone like it was paper. Kasoria felt the man's breastbone resist the impaling thrust for the barest of moments. Then it gave way with a crackling crunch, like a dog snapping through bones. Softer meat was beyond it, and the gladius sank deeper and deeper into his chest cavity. The bandit's eyes popped open; his mouth squirmed and gaped but nothing came out. Not until Kasoria twisted the blade, pulping whatever quivering things within the man the sword had skewered, and then yanked it free.

Something between a groan and a sigh oozed from bloody lips. Then the man fell forwards, and before he'd even settled onto the bloodstained dirt-

-Kasoria was already walking away from him. Weapons now scarlet in the torchlight. Face streaked with the stuff.

Narrow. Simple. Honest. As honest as it can get, for a man like you.

He rounded the corner the man had come from, and two more figures came running towards him. Kasoria gripped his blades tighter, and charged.
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Common Speech | Thoughts | Ith'ession Speech | Speech of Others
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Kasoria
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Re: III. Speaking the Language

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They weren't warriors, or even soldiers, and didn't give a shite about honor. They came on at him at once, not waiting for each other. Seeking to overwhelm this interloper with swinging and slashing blades before he could even land a blow. Kasoria marked them in a flash of torchlight. One taller, hair longer, drooping mustache trailing down past his chin and swaying gently as he charged with a short sword. The other was a little shorter but save for stubble and a scar raking down his face and blinding him in one eye, much the same. Brothers or relatives or just from the same region of the world, Kasoria didn't care. He cared only for the dagger and club he carried, charging forwards with a whirling motion-

-that he stepped back from, just like before. Let them swing and miss, stealing precious moments of strength from their arms. He skipped back, quick and light as the Tunawa he'd followed. But they kept on at him, Clubber leading, Mustache sweeping in from the side, or as much as he could in the narrow tunnel. Trusting their three weapons to overwhelm his two-

-until sword clashed against gladius, blow blocked and-

-the sound still rang against all ears present when Kasoria jerked his arm to the right and blocked Clubber an instant later, gladius blurring between them as he stopped each blow-

-kicking out at Mustache as he strike was turned aside, catching him in the front of the knee and knocking him back with a yelped curse-

-focusing entirely on Clubber for the moment, knowing that the club was just the preamble, and now that dagger-

-would be stabbing towards his guts-

-only for him to twist to the side, dagger thrusting into air instead of his intestines, lack of impact making Clubber stumble a step, off-balance-

-and then shrieking along with his partner as Kasoria's karambit slashed down and to the side, tip of the curved blade catching him in the upper bicep before he ripped it down the length of his upper arm, laying open flesh like a butcher, mangling and mutilating and shredding red muscle and yellow fat around it.

Clubber staggered back screaming and clutching at his arm. The dagger fell from his fingers and for a moment, the two bandits glared at the invader. Kasoria wasted not a moment doing the same. He just moved. Because they were bandits, and more importantly, that's all they were. Used to pillaging farms and villages packed with peaceful tillers of earth. Raiding caravans protected by a handful of guards, overwhelming them in a rush of arrows and a single, bloodthirsty charge.

Not warriors. Not even really fighters. Just scavengers and parasites.

Only one among them was different, and Kasoria was eager to get past this rabble to stand before him. With a grunt he surged forwards again, marking Mustache as slightly in front now, and certainly the bigger threat. Clubber was still clutching as his cleaved arm, staring in mingled shock and rage at the horrific gash ripped into it. Blood was spilling out and Kasoria reckoned he had maybe ten trills before anger overrode his pain and he swung that club for vengeance-

More than enough time.

Mustache threw up his sword as suddenly he was the one on the defensive. He tried to back away but a jolt of pain ripped through him from his knee. He wobbled, balance ruined, and Kasoria slapped the blade aside with his gladius, leaving the man's chest open-

-as his karambit lashed out again, blade clawing at Mustache's stomach and disemboweling him with one hideous, sucking sound of flesh tearing into pieces. Mustache fell back with a screech as a nest of steaming snakes erupted from his belly along with a gout of blood. His sword clattered to the floor as he tried to pushed them back in, sinking to his knees, turning to scream to his partner-

SHUNK

-but it never came. Clubber watched the little monster raised his gladius and twirl it around his fingers with a quick, practiced motion. Now held in reverse, he stabbed the sword down at Mustache's helpless, kneeling form. The sword smashed through his clavicle, burying itself into his torso up to the hilt. Mustache spewed blood instead of words, choking on it as he fell to one side and the little man stepped over him-

"St-Stay away-!"

A bark of inhuman laughter met his ears. A grin of sharp, dirty teeth greeted his terrified eyes. But still he lurched forwards, swinging the club one-handed, desperate to get some distance, land just one blow-

-instead swiping at naught but air as the little man dodged and swayed and danced, until one heavy blow slammed into the stone wall instead, sending ripples of impact juddering through his arm-

-and Kasoria's free hand snapped out to grab him around the wrist, holding his arm and the club he held up and against the wall, now without defense as-

SHKK-SHKK

The karambit slashed left and then right, forward and backhand, landing the wounds intended both times. Kasoria's face seemed torn between feral glee and stoic, focused concentration. This was a practiced pair of strikes. The first using the forward curve to slice into the side of the target's neck, severing the carotid, while the second, the backhand, used the other side of the blade to do much the same to the front of the throat. Voice box, jugular vein, windpipe... all could be sliced open, with good enough timing.

Unlike these two corpses, Kasoria was not just a bandit.

Clubber fell back as blood exploded from arteries always pulsing with pressure. Kasoria was covered with a spray of it as the man staggered and slumped with his back against the wall. Cold black eyes studied him as he slid down to his haunches, hands and shirt already soaked with his own life, spurting from between his digits. Already his eyes were clouding, already his breathing was slowing, and without a word, Kasoria turned away from him.

Clubber had enough time to see the little man take back his gladius from Mustache. He swept both weapons to his sides, flicking off the excess blood, then kept walking the way they'd came. The cutthroat with the cut throat coughed up his last few ounces of life out of his old mouth, and the new one carved beneath it. Then his hands flopped to his lap, and he died with his chin tucked into his chest, so meaningless and irrelevant that Kasoria would never even know his name.

Continued here
word count: 1118
Common Speech | Thoughts | Ith'ession Speech | Speech of Others
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Re: III. Speaking the Language


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Thread Review

Kasoria

Kasoria
Skill Points: +10 (cannot be used for magic)
Magic XP: None.

Renown: None.

Injuries/Overstepping: None.
Wealth Points: None.
Loot: None.

Skill Knowledges:
  • Blades (Gladius): Blocking Blows from Two Opponents at Once
  • Blades (Gladius): Thrusting Through the Sternum into the Chest Cavity
  • Blades (Karambit): Block and Downward Slash to Disarm an Opponent
  • Dual Wield (Gladius x Karambit - Combo): Gladius Block, Karambit Slash
  • Strength: Throwing Your Hips and Shoulders into a Thrust through a Tough Obstacle
  • Unarmed Combat (Ki'Enaq): Pinning an Enemy's Weapon Arm To a Wall By the Wrist
Non-Skill Knowledges:
  • none requested.
Notes: n/a.

An excellent vivid narrative of violence yet again. I especially appreciated the descriptions involving bone, such as the breastbone. That part of the scene was a fun immersive inclusion of gore.

Toward the later half, in the end, some of the sentences might have held stronger impact if they'd been shortened or split.

In example: This is a single sentence, "and then shrieking along with his partner as Kasoria's karambit slashed down and to the side, tip of the curved blade catching him in the upper bicep before he ripped it down the length of his upper arm, laying open flesh like a butcher, mangling and mutilating and shredding red muscle and yellow fat around it."

It could have been split to something like, "and then shrieking along with his partner as the karambit slashed down and to the side. The tip of the curved blade caught him in the upper bicep. Kasoria ripped it down the length of his upper arm - laying open flesh like a butcher - mangling, mutilating, and shredding red muscle and yellow fat around it."

It's a minor suggestion and I enjoy your seamless style of prose. Whenever there are words like: "as", "and", "before" - these sometimes can signal potential spots in run-on/longer sentences where splits could occur for easier readability without losing any detail.

Awesome job and enjoy your rewards!

PM me if you have any questions, issues or concerns.

Total Word Count: 1,938 words.
Review Request Link: viewtopic.php?p=116540#p116540
stampcodehere

word count: 358
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