He gets the job done... somehow. [Solo Flashback]

[Gunto]

13th Day of Fall, 510 AV Gunto kneeled in the dirt, waving his hands over a set of deep gouges in the loose earth beneath him. One set was of a different shape, and dug far deeper than the rest. So they had a horse of some sort... no matter. It looked as though it was a beast of burden rather than a mount, as the more human tracks on either side hinted that they were walking alongside it. Gunto rolled onto his hindquarters, and slung his pack down to the ground next to him. He fumbled with the latches, the rusty contraptions finally giving way to reveal a complete mess of tools and wrapped packages. Gunto tore one said packages free from his pack, unwrapped it to reveal a thick slab of salted pork. It was warm, and smelled awful. Delicious. As he tore into the meat, he thought about the small group he was tracking, and their probably destination. Gunto was officially a soldier in the Myrian army, and he had been sent to Sylira on a long term reconnaissance mission to observe the strength and capabilities of Mizahar's bastion of civilization. He had also been instructed to obtain any information he could on Sahova, and the abominations that resided there. Thus far, he had managed little of either. The tiny stipend he had received had barely lasted him in his journey to Sylira, much less leaving him enough to sustain himself. After stopping in Zeltiva, Gunto had resorted to freelance work. A mercenary was not as glamorous as many would like to think. He spent a lot of time looking for people, guarding doors, and baby sitting fat merchants who thought the world desired their petty wealth. His latest job had come from a rather prestigious merchant in Zeltiva. Apparently, the man's daughter had been kidnapped by a group of two men and taken from the city limits under the cover of darkness. Nevermind that this supposedly helpless girl had been studying Reimancy for years... the man was convinced his helpless daughter had been abducted, and faced a fate worse than death. Gunto had taken to the Wildlands in search of his marks, and had found a set of tracks that seemed to fit branching off the main road to Syliras by nothing more than luck. Gunto sighed, tossing the slimey paper that had contained his dinner onto the ground behind him. With a grunt he heaved himself up, and hoisted his pack onto his back once again. Their pace had been slowing; the occurrences of large groups of clustered tracks among the stretches of apparently fast travel meant they were growing tired and in need of rest stops. If things went well, he could simply announce his intentions to the group and they would relinquish control of the woman to him once he found them. His appearance had that effect on those who had little savvy in the way of Myrians. Most assumed he was a primal executioner, born from the bowels of a hellish jungle filled with death and decay. While the second part was true, Gunto wasn't really that great of warrior. Myri didn't have her best warriors travel halfway across the world just for information that would most likely be outdated by the time it was received, in any case. Gunto trekked onward, the jingling sound of metal and bone announcing his presence to any and all nearby. He cared little about that. He was not stealthy, nor did he care to be. He kept his eyes focused on the thick wilderness in front of him, pushing his way through tall grass and the occasional tree branch that sought to claw his eyes out. His pace was good, and before long he passed another large grouping of broken earth and distressed flora. They had stayed here long enough to press down the grass and leave behind the detritus of a meal. He was close. Gunto ground his teeth together, feeling the fatigue in his body from the long hike. He wanted to get this over with, and soon.

[Gunto]

Nightfall. When you were far away from your prey, it made things near impossible. When you were as close as Gunto had been, the tell tale smoke and flickering light of a distant fire was a much welcome homing beacon. Gunto slid his pack off his backside and looping the strap around a thick tree branch. Hopefully in plain sight he would be able to find it later... thought he had lost a few thinking the same thing. Despite, the weight would slow him down and wasn't worth risking his mobility if it came to blows. Just as Gunto moved to draw the kukri sheathed on his shoulder pauldron, he felt a buzzing sensation in his body. He had emptied his waterskin earlier. "I guess charging into battle and pissing one's self isn't very professional." Gunto muttered, moving to a nearby tree illuminated by the dim moonlight. He fumbled with his belt buckles, cursing softly at the intricate manner in which his armor and clothing was situated. At long last, he envisioned a target at the base of the tree and began to annihilate it with what he imagined as a stream of poison tipped crossbow bolts... or urine. Gunto leaned his head back, letting out a sigh of relief. He hadn't realized how badly he'd needed to go. As he finished up, Gunto let out another content sigh and began pulling his breeches back up. "Don't move." a harsh whisper filled his ears, and he felt something solid touching his shoulder. A club of some sort, he guessed. Gunto's hands froze at his midsection, the only thing holding his pants up at that moment. "Turn around slowly." The voice commanded, and Gunto shuffled his feet to face the origin of the voice. Of all the times to have someone sneak up on him, it had to be when he was taking a piss. Fortunately for Gunto (or perhaps unfortunately), the man who had him at such an advantageous position was met with Gunto's other worldly appearance as they made eye contact. He let out a sharp cry of surprise, and Gunto felt something thud in his chest that sent him stumbling backwards. His hands went wild trying to keep his balance, only further imbalancing him as his pants fell to his ankles and caused him to fall onto his back against the tree... and right into a puddle of his own filth. "What are you!?" The man shrieked, lunging forward. The moonlight gave no indication of specific features, but Gunto caught the silhouette of a man bearing down on him with a club poised so bash his brains in. Even with the stupidity of the situation, Gunto's warrior instincts took over. He lashed out with his legs, trapping his attacker's forward shin inbetween his own shin and her other leg's calf. Gunto's Myrian strength served him well, and as he jerked both of his legs to the side his opponent went crashing down onto his back in front of Gunto. His ears picked up the sound of something tumbling off to the side, most likely his opponent's weapon. In brave stories and tales, men never lost hold of their weapons, never fought in the dark, and apparently never got caught urinating on a tree in the dead of night. In a brief lapse of a few seconds, this situation had broken the mold completely. Gunto scrambled forward, despite his pants around his ankles restraining his movement. His knees found a fleshy target, and Gunto managed to scramble on top of his disoriented assailant. If not elegant, one could say that Gunto was at the least efficient. Reaching to his shoulder, he freed with wicked curved blade from it's prison. Mounted atop his struggling opponent, Gunto jammed his right palm over his mouth to stifle his cries as his left bore down on his ribcage with the thick blade. Gunto felt resistance give way to the sound of cracking bone and sharp whimpers from the man. With his blade buried in his unprotected torso, Gunto kept a firm grip on the hilt and gave it a sharp twist, evoking the last of the man's violent death throws. As his movement ceased, Gunto released the hand he had clamped over his mouth, and ripped his blade free. "Myri, I pray you were not watching." Gunto hissed, irritated that he had been caught in such a position. If not for his outlandish appearance, he may not have managed to kill that man so quickly. He rolled back onto his buttocks, swinging his blade in quick motions to fling the accumulated blood and gore from it's steel surface. Gunto cursed as he rose to his feet, sliding his blade back into it's sheath and finally managing to get his pants on. To be killed by a man with his pants down... how ridiculous. Only then did Gunto's nose catch a foul smell emanating from his backside. He reached to his back, touching the worn fabric of his tattered cloak. Soaked through and through, and undoubtedly in urine. Gunto's face contorted into a mask of irritated rage. He was a soldier of Myri's army! This son of a bitch had knocked him into a pool of his own piss. Gunto spat on the corpse, cursing under his breath and unleashing a brutal series of kicks against the lifeless body's torso. After releasing the majority of his pent up irritation, he leaned over the body to get a better look at the man. Muscled, but not overly so... most likely having spent a lot of time in the wilderness, where meals didn't always come easily. The fire still flickered in the distance, and Gunto deduced that this man was probably from that camp. If he was lucky, he would also be one of the two that had apparently kidnapped the young Reimancer. In any case, he had time. It wasn't a particularly heroic victory, but it had been a victory none the less. This man's strength and guile would be taken into Gunto's own body, fulfilling his obligation to Myri. He had lost, Gunto had won. To the victor go the spoils. Gunto began the gory work of cutting the man's heart free, intent on devouring it as he had every other victorious kill. Worse yet would be when he cracked open the man's skull, and sated his growing hunger with the very essence of what the man had been in this life.

[Gunto]

"Vargas has been gone a while." she said, a snide tone barely kept in check by the growing worry in her voice. "Probably just needed to take a crap. You know, with all the stops we had to make, he ate enough to feed us for a couple days." A male voice sounded out, his filled with something bordering contempt. "Quiet. I'm paying you by the day, what does it matter?" She retorted, her male companion grunting to affirm the truth in her statement. Gunto crouched just outside the light cast by their fire. In one hand he held the long, studded club that 'Vargas' had wielded. His other held the man's ruined head, gripping it from inside his open and lifeless mouth. "Paying them? It seems daddy's little girl wasn't kidnapped after all. Wonderful, just how I wanted to spend the next three days... force marching a spoiled bitch back to Zeltiva." Gunto thought, his face going slack with the information he had just gathered. Aside from that, he also knew that the girl might resist him. No typical girl either; she was a Reimancer. He could see her sitting on a stool aside the fire, filing her nails or something along those lines. The other man sat with his back against a tree, legs lazily sprawled in front of him. A crossbow sat directly to his right, and beside it a thick woodsman's axe. So much for an easy touch and go. "Oh hey, Vargas! Did you have to use a pine cone!? Ha!" the other man yelled out as he heard footsteps approaching. His eyes caught something sailing through the air, thudding onto the ground and rolling to a stop just in front of his feet. A severed heard, the skull crushed and it's contents emptied. Just behind it the man's club fell to the ground, and the two at the campsite exploded into a barrage of confused and terrified screams. Gunto added to the chaos, unleashing a full on Myrian warcry. His voice boomed in their ears, and the terror of the moment took full hold of their bodies as the Myrian's visage came into view. A face white as death, forming a skull. Bones formed into piercings, and eloborate tattoos filling every instance of visible skin they could see. If anything, Gunto was good at first impressions. So good, in fact, that he avoided a lot of difficult fights when his opponents simply ran away. Not exactly in the true spirit of the Myrians, but Gunto didn't like fighting when the odds were stacked against him. Unfortunately, this day would not turn out that way. The man by the tree centered himself quickly, snatching the crossbow from the ground and firing it at Gunto in rapid succession. Gunto's eyes widened as he felt the thud and impact of his body, his heart skipping a beat as he looked at the left side of his chest. There the bolt was, lodged decently in the thick leather armor on his shoulder. He felt the tip of the bolt biting into the muscled exterior of his body, but that was far preferable to having been shot elsewhere. "Of all the places to shoot him! Idiot!" the woman screamed, falling backwards on her stool and crawling backwards away from the Myrian. Her male guardian was on his feet and approaching Gunto, the axe in hand. Gunto's left and right hand both went for his blades, pulling the kukris free from his shoulder mounted sheath and lower back respectively. His opponent stumbled a bit upon witnessing the orange glow of his curved steel blades, undoubtedly having second thoughts about his attack. Gunto gave no chance for him to reconsider, lunging forward as his arms shot out to the sides. He swung both of his blades inward, as if he were going to decapitate the lone guardian his mark possessed. The steel vibration of his blades impacting the head of the axe shook his arms to the core; apparently his initial opponent wasn't so unskilled. He had to have a far amount of experience fighting with an axe to have managed that! Gunto withdrew his blades, crouching his body and lashing out at the man's legs with his left hand blade, severing naught but air as the meaty target maneuvered itself out of harm's way. Gunto caught an overhead strike with his blade, nestling the point where his blade began to curve against the wooden shaft just below the threatening head of the axe. They were deadlocked for a moment. "Bastard! Bastard!" The man screamed, undoubtedly a bit perterbed that his companion's severed head had just been tossed into his lap. Gunto clenched his teeth, baring them and showcasing the dried blood that spattered his lower jaw as they struggled to overpower one another. Yet this man was short sighted in his rage, and Gunto was quickly positioning his left blade... "Marco, move!" the woman screamed, and her charge seemed to snap out of his fury induced daze just in time to push himself backwards and away from a potentially fatal thrust from Gunto's other kukri. Gunto stepped back, giving himself some space to observe the two. The male was positioning himself directly in his path to the woman, who had regained her footing. She was a delicate thing, clad in black traveling clothes and exquisite jewelry. Her focused gaze caused Gunto to briefly reconsider his assault; he could feel something in the air that had not been there only seconds ago. The dancing light of the fire had drowned out the moon, reducing details to an orange haze. Yet he could see that something was dripping from her body to the ground; a mostly translucent liquid. It was as water, permeating the ground beneath her. Reimancer. Shyke. That notion struck him just as the earth began to shift and quiver around her, a sudden explosion of force cutting a fissure into the ground that snaked from her feet and zig zagged towards Gunto at frightening speed. Gunto only managed to throw his body to the side as the ground exploded in front of him, sending razor sharp shrapnel fashioned from djed into the space her formerly occupied. He did not escaped unharmed however, as the speed of her attack had only allowed the vital parts of his body to escape. His right shin had two chunks of stone embedded in it, piercing the thick leather wrappings that covered it as well as his boot. Such force... Gunto limped to his feet, readying his blades. Her companion seemed unnerved by her attack, probably having never experienced Reimancy. Gunto had, but only once. It was not something he cared to have ever seen again, especially directed against him. "Kill him, Marco! He's wounded!" A shrill scream commanded, and Marco obeyed. He charged towards Gunto, lifting his axe far above his head.

[Gunto]

Gunto met force with force, stepping forward and thrusting his kukri towards Marco's chest as the looming of an overhead strike lingered. Luckily, Marco abandoned his initial plan of attack in favor of keeping his chest intact, much to Gunto's satisfaction. He quickly deduced that his best bet to keep the Reimancer from interfering was to stay as close as he could to Marco. No doubt she had little interest in finding her way alone in the wilds, and would likely not attempt a magical attack that could kill or wound her guardian. Gunto twisted his body, throwing himself towards the off balanced warrior and sending them both to the ground in a heap. To maneuver his blades into position was too time consume; Gunto lashed out the blunted end of the hilt, striking at Marco's face instead. Even as he pummeled his opponent, Gunto felt his body suddenly moving out of his control. His vision went wild, spiraling as he was flipped over and onto his back. His left shoulder took the brunt of the fall, but that was not without consequence. The crossbow bolt dug farther in, drawing a brief grunt of pain from Gunto's lips. He needed to pull it out, but he knew it would be difficult to rip it free in the midst of battle. The tip was deep enough now that every motion of his shoulder was met with the piercing bite of the bolt tip. Gunto scrambled despite the pain, finding his fallen blades in the thick dirt at his sides and spinning his body to face Marco. His opponent had managed to flip Gunto on his back, but the vicious assault had left his face bloodied and his senses dazed. Gunto took the opportunity to throw his weight forward, wildly swinging a lone kukri and feeling the satisfaction as it ground deep into the fleshy joint of Marco's inner elbow. His opponent was wounded and in a bad spot. Gunto didn't gloat to his enemies when they faced their eminent death by his hands, rather preferring to simply end the fight while the getting was good. Marco's axe fell to the ground, his instinct taking over as he took hold of his wounded arm with his other. Gunto made his move, lashing out with his arms and pushing Marco down with his knuckles. He still held one kukri, and as he crawled atop his wounded opponent's body he spied his other blade a foot or so to the side. Snatching it up, he lifted both arms high in the air and deftly flipped both knives so that they were held backhanded with the blades pointed down. He drove them home, slicing into Marco's chest in a gory display of the kukri's effectiveness. Gunto only watched the man long enough to see the light of life flicker out in his eyes. He turned his attention to the woman as he violently ripped his blades free. She was aghast, one hand over her mouth and mumbling to herself. Gunto took the opportunity to attempt to reason with her. He didn't mind fighting a fellow warrior, but a wizard was a different story. "Girl, your father sent me to find you." He said in thick Common, pulling his body up and settling his weight on his good leg. "Your guides are dead, and likely you will be too even if you kill me and venture on by yourself. Don't be a fool... come back to Zeltiva." He barked, trying to sound both authoritative and reasonable at the same time. It seemed he failed at both. "You're not in any position to tell me what I can or cannot do, Myrian! I left Zeltiva for a reason! My father is a bastard, and he-urghh!" She began to speak, but was cut off abruptly by the sound of her own surprised voice erupting into a scream. She stared down past her bosom, where the thick blade of a single kukri skittered to the ground below. It's blade was wet with red, but not only her companion's blood. Crimson swelled from her abdomen, indicating that though the blade hadn't stuck, Gunto had struck her with his knife. Gunto never understood when people felt the need to explain themselves to him, especially in a situation like this. When she had distracted herself by beginning talk of her reasoning, he had throwing his right hand's blade at her as hard as he could. He had hoped to end the fight then and there, but alas. The woman stood, shrieking and doubling over in pain. Not as quick and easy as he had hoped. Gunto pushed himself to his feet, taking his left hand kukri into his dominant right hand and beginning to limp towards her. As he got closer, he noticed the same wet substance lining her body as before, almost like a thin sheen of sweat. "Skurak!" Gunto screamed in his native tongue, his body catapauled into the air as the earth beneath him exploded. His blade flung from his hand as he spiraled in the air, landing so hard on his back that the wind was sucked from his lungs. Not good. Not good at all.

[Gunto]

His body rolled to a stop, having been cast aside like a limp rag doll by the magical destruction the young sorceress had wrought. His body tinged with the battery he had received, a precursor to the aching he would likely feel for a week to come. Yet as he struggled to his knees, he knew that he had to finish this quickly, or there would be no weeks to come to worry about something so trivial as aches and pains. Gunto twisted his head to his right, eyeing the girl as she clutched her stomach in a stooped position. Her right hand was gesturing, her fingers moving frantically and a small incantation of gibberish floating from her lips. The fire. The flames began to swell, and as the woman thrust her arm skyward so too did the flames blossum into a pillar of flame that soared into the sky, arching back down towards Gunto as if it were a flying snake. Gunto grunted in frustration as he pushed his body from a crawl into a painful run to escape the fire that engulfed his former resting spot. A tree lay in his path, and Gunto could do little than raise his arms to absorb the impact as he slammed into it, unwilling to further stress his injured leg. As he wobbled in place, he saw the flames whipping about near him as the pillar of fire consumed the earth. Only a few seconds later it dissipated, leaving scorched dirt and smoldering plant life that glowed faintly orange. Stumbling forward, Gunto had to figure out a way to end this. He would not last much longer if he kept beating himself silly trying to escape her magic. To Gunto's benefit, she was in a daze and seemed consume in weaving her magical djed. He knew little of Reimancers other than the terrible things they could do, and considered them dangerous by default. Hence his decision to simply try and kill the woman once she showed signs of resistance, rather than plead and reason and ending up another charred corpse feeding the local fauna in the Wildlands. He made haste, limping as fast as he could and stretching out his arms in order to take hold of her neck. Just as his fingers lightly brushed her hair, the woman spun and screamed so loud his ears rung. Her hands fluttered upward, Gunto catching a harsh distortion in his vision coming from below that he instinctively spun his body away from. It was lucky, as a javelin of pure stone erupted from the ground with enough for that it likely could have pierced his body through and through. Gunto was off balance, but righted himself by lashing out and grabbing the woman by her hair. He pulled hard, her neck jerking downward as he applied force to keep his balance. In that instant, Gunto's mind clicked that he had her. Without hesitation, Gunto's fingers sank into her delicate black hair and dug into a fierce grip along the back of her skull. He pushed her head forward, slamming her face into the rocky protrusion she had created only seconds ago. Gunto felt the impact with a hint of satisfaction, again gripping her by the hair and drawing her head back to reveal a bloodied face. Her eyes were wild, but she was disoriented and stunned for the moment. Gunto smashed her head into the rocky spike again, this time relinquishing his hold on her head as she crumpled to the ground. The woman rolled onto her side in ruin, mumbling and spasming as blood flowed from her nose and mouth. "Myri's wrath... you're too powerful for your own good." Gunto muttered, stumbling a few steps forward and retrieving the kukri he had thrown earlier. Once in hand, he returned to the fallen Reimancer and bent down to straddle her. Despite never having done anything morally wrong, she had become his enemy. In her attempt to free herself from whatever atrocity she felt burdened by, fate had aligned to have her path cross with Gunto of the Shadow Hand. Without a word, Gunto lined the blade along her chest with her heart, and gripping with one hand while pushing on the hilt with the other, he pushed it deep into her body. For the third time that day, Gunto watched as her body spasmed in death and the life flickered from her eyes.

[Gunto]

As was his custom, Gunto had taken something for the body of the fallen mage. An oddly intricate silver necklace was torn from her neck, and wrapped around his wrist as though a bracelet. As Gunto stumbled towards her fallen comrades, the natural pain killers in his body dissipated and revealed the full extent of his injury. Only then did the thought of pulling free the crossbow bolt that had been slicing his shoulder thoroughly occur, and it had left a bloody mess in it's wake. His lower leg hadn't faired much better, and Gunto reluctantly decided his time was better spent tending his injuries best he could, and making his way back to Zeltiva. He took what he could carry from the trio's unused supplies, mainly their three waterskins, and limped his way towards his pack. The going was slow, and Gunto was in too much pain to set up a proper camp. He simply slept on the ground with his pack as a pillow, shivering in the cool night air. His journey continued like that, his progress slow and his physical state worsening with each hour. By the time Gunto crumpled near the entrance to Zeltiva, his wounds had bloomed infection that spread throughout his entire body. He was feverish and weak, and lucky to have been taken to an Inn where a group of physicians began administering what remedies they could for his condition. Gunto scarcely remembered them, save that they seemed to have a lot of much younger men and women accompanying them who tended to stand around Gunto's bed and ask questions about his morality as if he were an experiment. Yet, annoyances aside his health slowly began to stabilize. He was alerted that a man had constantly sought an audience with him for the last few days, but had been told that he could not see Gunto for the time being. However, as Gunto's health had improved he soon was greeted by the face of the fat merchant who had hired him into the whole ordeal in the first place. He walked into the room with a small leather pouch in his hand, placing it on Gunto's bedside table as he spoke. "Gunto of the Shadow Hand, as I live and breath! I only returned to the city hours before your return, but I've been seeking an audience with you. No doubt my daughter is back at the Academy, busy with her studies! I've not heard from her, but I have been rather busy... so... wait, that is..." The merchant's voice streamed, but his tone quivered and rose in pitch as he spied the necklace wrapped around Gunto's wrist. He began to stutter and stumble, apparently disturbed by the sight of it. Gunto was in a slight haze from his fever, but he deduced that the necklace must have been important to the girl for her father to react in such a way. Maybe it was partly due to his condition, but Gunto was not in the mood to coddle the old merchant. "She's dead. Those slavers stuck her as soon as they saw me, and ran for it. I killed them both, if it's any condolence." The merchant stood silent for a moment, his eyes wide in shock and his lower lip beginning to tremble as he took in Gunto's words. His legs near gave out on him, and he stumbled to a chair. As he fell into the cushion, he buried his head in his hands and began to weep. Gunto didn't want to coddle the man, but that didn't mean he was ready to admit that he himself had murdered her. He had acted selfishly out of self preservation, and in the heat of the moment decided she was a threat to him if she remained alive. He briefly regretted throwing his blade at her before listening to her words, but the thought was washed away as the idea of not being alive and in the bad he now lay in took over. Perhaps he had been wrong, but he was alive. The best he could do was offer the merchant an explanation that would give him some measure of closure, even if it were a lie. "You can have this back." Gunto said, flicking his wrist slightly so the metallic surface of the necklace chimed. The merchant's head rose from his hands, showcasing red eyes that seemed to emanate his trauma. "I can't... I can't look at..." He began to say, but his trembling voice gave way to wailing sobs. The merchant jumped to his feet, shoving his face into his fleshy arm and stumbling out of the room. Gunto sighed as his head rolled to the side. He saw the pouch, most likely containing some coin. Money well earned... maybe. He felt the tinge of guilt, but in truth he was proud to have emerged victorious from the encounter. By rights he should have died out there. Gunto was not the proud, valiant warrior that people spoke of in tall tales. He was a mortal man who fought tooth and nail for survival. His methods were not refined nor were they flashy and spectacular to behold. To him, tearing the heart from his enemy and living to see another day had always been enough. Yet even as he thought about that rationale, a part of him knew that the next time he crossed paths with someone such as that young woman, he would feel the sting of the guilt he felt today. Gunto could only hope that if he hesitated, it would not be the end of him when that day came. -FIN-

[Tabarnac]

XP Award! Gunto XP Award: Tracking +1; Land Navigation +2; Wrestling +2; Kukri +5; Intimidation +2; Dual Wield +2 Reward: 100 gold mizas after deductions for medical bills Lore: Reimancy (basic); Defense Against Reimancy (basic) Additional Notes: So... I stuck with unarmed combat though some of what he did might be closer to brawling or wrestling since you already have unarmed combat [edit: switched to wrestling per your request]. I know there’s a precedent for throwing knives as a weapon skill, but I figure that Gunto’s training with the kukri would include throwing them, so I’m just including that as kukri XP. You know how to get a hold of me if you disagree on any particular point. This was a fun read! Feel free to PM me if you have any questions or concerns. Keep writing!