Welan's Night At The Dojo

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Welan's Night At The Dojo

Post by DoF Archive » Sun May 16, 2004 1:33 am

Date: 6/18/2000 11:04 PM Central Daylight Time
From: WZBarnard


The Murder & Abduction
The First Night At The Dojo



The first night in the dojo started off as a normal one (with the exception of the musty air and dirty interior). The first duel came and went, as did the second. However, as Jack came in, the mood soured as a bone-chilling scream was heard outside. As Jack, Koy and I ran outside, we discovered a pool of blood. Through following the blood we discovered the body of a small boy. His throat was slit.
Basically through the course of the night people came and went investigating the body. Jack left to get the authorities, but never came back... To make a long story short, I decided to be a sentry and observe the door of the dojo from the bushes where I was well concealed. However, after seeing a shadow move towards the door stealthily, I was forced to throw my dagger at the door frame. After seeing it hit air and the shadow run away, I went to
retrieve it and went back to my post. I had given up my position, however.
All was doing well for roughly 10 minutes. I thought I had scared away whoever was trying to get in (maybe the killer). Then from behind me came several hands. One grabbed my mouth, muffling my cries. Another grabbed the dagger from my hand, and a few more subdued my hands and feet. Within a few moments, before Tarenth could come to my aid, I was knocked out and, I presume, carried away to where I woke up later.
When I came to I was lying on the floor of a dimly lit warehouse. I had a sever pain in my chest and left arm. As I later found out, 3 ribs had been broken and my left arm had been shattered. There was also blood dripping from several other crevaces in my body. I did not move more than a few inches before I saw my attackers sitting in the corner, playing cards. They were a group of young adults, a gang. I realized then that it was the same gang I
had seen milling about around the park, shortly after the boy had been killed.
After listening to their discussion I realized that they thought I was dead (obviously they didn't know how to check a pulse). I decided to play along with them. After what seemed like days, the boys decided to depart and leave me to deal with tomarrow. I couldn't believe my luck. Basically, let me summerize why they had tried to kill me (or at least what i understood from the floor).
When I had thrown my dagger, I had hit the hand of the perpetrator. However, it only caught the side of his hand. It was stuck in the door frame, but his hand was not due to the fact that the knife had only ripped through a little flesh on the side of his hand. He squelched his scream and ran back to the rest of the gang. Upon informing them, they crept up behind me and knocked me out.
Anyway, during that night, I limped out of the warehouse and stumbled about. Eventually, due to blood loss and the fact that I was lost, I keeled over in a big heap. I was discovered by an elderly couple. The brought me into their home. After a day and night of help they gave me directions to my home and I proceeded there.
I arrived home earlier and lay down. After much consideration I decided to write this letter explaining my disappearance last night. In a few short minutes a messenger will come and post it on the board for me.
Beware the gang. I warn you, they do want to hurt us. We have invaded their territory and they are out to reclaim it. I will come by now and then to help protect, but protect yourselves my friends. Bring your weapons, should they attack. Posting sentrys couldnt hurt either. Well, I better get rest.
Sincerely,
Welantro "Welan" Zlianni
~One of the Current Holders of the Sapphire Gem~
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Re: Welan's Night At The Dojo

Post by DoF Archive » Sun May 16, 2004 1:34 am

Date: 6/28/2000 7:08 PM Central Daylight Time
From: TarethThrn

He had followed Welan's interrupted shout out that night, surprising those in the dojo at his hasty dash. Upon exit, he found no sign of Welan or the murdered body, he could only assume that the killers had come back for their prize and taken out the only witness in the process.

Mumbling a "These guys are mine," he began the hunt and flew out into the bushes. It wasn't truly out of a sense of friendship or protectiveness, it had just been too long since he got to enjoy a good, dirty, underhanded vengeance beating.

*****************************************************

It wasn't until the night after he'd won the opal that he actually found out where the hoodlums had their funhouse.

It was raining out, he was once again tapping his fingertip on the recalcitrant stone after dropping Jaycy off at the Red Dragon. He had actually been secretly dreading the moment of truth, ShadoWeaver might still hold grudges about that whole Gothmorda incident. *

The rain sluiced mercilessly down, but the wide hat he wore these days deflected into a comforting curtain around his head. Taptaptap... "hey spooky chick, you still in there?" Once again, the black gem disregarded his mental query.

His attention jerked upward as it caught movement ahead on the street, someone was darting into one of the old rust-streaked buildings. Pocketing the opal, he altered his course for the large warehouse doors. There was a bigger chance of something fun going on here than getting back to the dojo and finding someone worthwhile to beat on. Running up to one of the broken-out windows, he peers in like a little kid playing hide-and-seek.

"Yo, check out what I just ganked from this fogie outside!" Tareth could just make out a scuffle as the rest of the people inside eagerly pounced their newcomer comrade.

"Dude, that's so lame! An umbrella?" Much laugher ensued as the apparent leader of the mob started repeatedly smacking the other with his new prize. The youth escaped to the outside of the circle, laughing and hiding behind other members of the gang. That's what it was, Tareth finally realized; a gang, the same one he had passed on that fateful night on his way to the new dojo. These were just the ones that Welan had warned them all about in his
letter.

Slipping down from the window, he grinned a truly Puckish leer and scurried off into the rain.

*****************************************************

Not much later a Tareth-shaped shadow snuck across the street, now slick with rain and the reflection of a fat, newly emerged moon. Under his arm he carried an ever-dwindling coil of thick rope, the loops slipping out as he progressed across that street. The other end was secured to the top of the twice-taller building across from the run-down warehouse.

Shouldering the bulk of what rope was left, he ascended the outer fire escape and climbed to the roof. Once there, he tied the end of his line in a slipknot around the rusted railing, making a bowed, diagonal bridge from one building to the other. Once done, he sprinted for the skylight in the middle of the ceiling space.

He wasn't in the mood to play around much, just a quick blow'n'run. Slipping one of his "toys" from his pocket, he shakes it vigorously. The small marblesque glass sphere flares into white luminescence and he steps up onto the peaked window frame.

His heavy boot smashes one of the few remaining panes of glass as he bends over and whistles down to the young men inside.

"Heya fellas. Stay on yer toes."

With a wink, he drops the glowing sphere through the skylight.

In a split second, he turns and blitzes for the roof's edge. With a grand leap, he soars off the building, coat flapping like wings as he flies through the air. One trailing hand catches the rope, the fire escape knot falls apart, and he goes swinging into the air with a whooping scream from the bottom of his lungs.

Behind, the warehouse erupts into fire as Tareth's dropped explosive shatters against the floor. The inferno tears through empty space, blowing out the few remaining windows first, then disintegrating the walls like soft cheese.

The shockwave shatters every window every building facing the warehouse, making it easier for Tareth to swing into one of the now empty holes. Letting go, he rolls and slams into one of the office's walls, laughing hysterically.

Still snickering, he makes his way down the stairs and outside the cubicle storage space. He looks up, examining his work as he tugs the hat up from hanging around his neck to plop it on his head again.

Of course, nobody could be sure that anyone had survived the blast. It's conceivable that some or all of them could have made it out in time, but the only thing that mattered to Tareth right then was the sight of the crumpled pile of garbage that now smoked where the gang's hidie-hole once stood.

Tipping his hat to the ruin, he turned and continued his walk toward the dojo, whistling merrily despite the resuming thunderstorm.



----------=Thorn=----------




(( * for details see the Opal SL starting with the post entitled "Date with a Devil", 1-3-00. ))
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