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The Shadow Sentinel [Aevum!] [M]

Started by Medievarad, November 25, 2016, 08:10:19 PM

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Medievarad

Tags to: @AevumEternity
M for gratuitous gore
»---------«

This was a rather unique contract. It would be a.compliment to call it an assassination. But it basically was a battle of attrition. While she didn't mind the change of pace, nor the pay, it was pretty good, she couldnt help but feel insulted the contractor had contacted several other mercenaries. She could delude armies. Slay kings and topple tyrants. But no, it had to be with others. Did her reputation get damaged? Or was she starting to lose her touch and grow soft?

The assassin shook her head, resting a hand on the blood soaked, metal sheet of a face mask. A whispy black energy gathered in her palm andvan she rended the mask out of existence. The battle was over now, she rolled her shoulder and huffed as she trudged through the carcasses, bones cracking and guts squishing under her steel boots. Which only became covered in more gore. Like the rest of her body. She glanced at her shoulderpad and picked a piece of gore from it. A severed nose. She smirked softly, remembering having shouldercharged one in the face.

A tug on her leg had stopped her in her tracks and made her look down. It was one of the mercenaries that fought on her side, gravely wounded. "Please," he muttered, blood running from his lips. She could only tsk, before pulling her foot away. Only to immediately kick him in the face again with a sickening crunch, causing the, body to fall against the ground like a lifeless puppet. "Disgusting," she spat, before moving on, heading to finish off the other wounded soldiers. Be it friend or foe.

With a smirk, she concluded she wasn't losing her touch. The only touch was how touched in the head their contractor was for thinking he, or she, needed anyone else but her.

And she most certainly was not growing soft either.

AevumEternity

A large figure seemed to loom from the garden of broken and smoking bodies. A beast laying into a feast of unfortunate souls. In the dull grey light, the monster's armored hide shone like chaffed steel, massive bristling mane shaking like a thousand white spears upon its neck and back. Wrenching its head back, the tearing of tendons and bone creating a symphony of food to the monster's ears- it chewed slowly, savoring the metallic taste and delicious crunch.

This was utter luxury- there had been no siege weapons, a canon or two had been present but this army was apparently terrible at aiming. The Manticore looked around, black eyes narrowing faintly as its talons carved deeper into its quarry. A figure seemed to be heading her way, likely another employee of the rather wise man who hired her- lowering its head once more, crunching the rib cage between her teeth slowly, enjoying the playful gush of body fluid into her maw, she began to prowl toward the figure... Who dared disturb her section of the field? This was hers to devour~!

Medievarad

Kurenai glanced up at the beast that slowly started to approach her. Her face had straightened out, the same cold and desinterested look as always now. A soft, annoyed huff left her as the creature didn't seem intent on, stopping at a respectable distance.

Her hand rested on the hilt of one of her ninjato, glancing up at the demon. "What?" She asked easily. Obviously unintimidated by the creature before her.

AevumEternity

It's great maw parted exhaling a deep breath that was utterly putrid with decomposing meat and blood. What yourself, morsel. The response seemed to be telepathic, the rubbery lips curling back in a vicious grin as the manticore stopped several feet away, long barbed tail circling around its body almost like a protective barrier.

How many?

Medievarad

"Morsel. How frustratingly original coming from such a brute," she answered with an annoyed sigh. The scent of meat and blood didn't even phase her. The putrid smellof did not even do as much as make her flinch. She reeked of death herself. Both phsyically and in more spiritual ways. The type of character that had claimed more souls than there were hairs to her head.

"I lost count after roughly four hundred," she answered with an indifferent huff. "When you start killing several at the same time, it's hard to keep track."

AevumEternity

If you come up with a more theatrical title, let me know- I am merely a 'meathead' after all. The manticore began to slowly circle her, tilting its head gently to one side. Keep in mind, our employer pays us in how many kills we make- confirmed of course... Collect noses, it will prove your kills, I am sure. The beast paused, lapping its thick tongue over armored muzzle, gazing at her almost... Affectionately.

Or...
We could always simply dispose of the fat man, take his horde for ourselves, no? After he pays us... Of course.

Medievarad

"Dark Echo, if you go for titles. Kurenai if you wanted a name," she snorted. "But Meathead it is," she answered with an indifferent shrug.

As the Manticore.went on about collecting noses or other assorted bodyparts, Kurenai gave her a droll look. "Yes. Because I can go around and carry a bag of noses around," she sighed softly, waving her hand dismissively. "I work at a certain rate. A target has a set price. This army was a target. So I get paid despite how much kills." She yawned slowly and started to stretch. "Though it was fun," she admitted mid-yawn.

She glanced up at the creature again. "No. You see, killing a target damages reputation. Let's not bite the hand that feeds," she snickered softly.

AevumEternity

The monster exhaled with annoyance, turning around- slowly, turning its massive body toward the allied lines. We may as well return- hm, friend? it swung its large head back toward her, one ear flickering toward Kurenai.

Aev'iterna. It's a pleasure.

Medievarad

Deep crimson eyes glanced up at the demon. "I possess no friends," she answered rather coldly., even for her recently established standards. "But, let us return," she agreed with a soft sigh, glancing over towards the makeshift camp that had been set up.

She turned on her heels and walked through the corpses with a soft, annoyed and tired sigh. She'd have to clean her boots again.

AevumEternity

The rubbery lips simply curl back in a sneer, a low, pulsing growl like animalistic chuckling lifted from the beast's throat but it no longer seemed concerned with talking. As she sighed, the demon tilted its head toward her, musing as it did so, Trouble with boots?

Medievarad

"Just thinking of the headache that'll be caused by trying to clean them," she answered with an annoyed sigh. "You can read my thoughts?"

They would reach the camp in roughly half an hour of walking.

AevumEternity

I cannot, but I can note the way your knees lift a bit too much and you seem displeased by every delicious squelch of the muck.

The camp was muddy, dark, dirty- smelling of fire, mud, piss and blood. The smells of war, delightful. They, of course, were given odd stares as a result of both monster and oddly dressed woman- nonetheless, this did not deter their paths, the Manticore weaving through the rows upon rows of tents until they reached a massive war tent. Quite clearly belonging to their dear employer.

Medievarad

"Hm," Kurenai hummed softly, shrugging slowly.

She pushed a flap of the war tent open, walking in and glancing around at the few soldiers and mercenaries there, before at their contractor. "Payment," she only stated, not greeting him, not making a note of the blood-covered bandage around his head. No, she simply demanded her money. After all, there were other contracts to be had.

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