Kaizo

Takin harbour, 102 AFB
Spring

"Strang' tydes breng in strang' folks, the fish'rmen sae. Thengs stalke the laend tha' ought nae walk bi dae. Kets on t'o legs, sherks o' laend, daem'ns straeght oot o' the taels of eld.

T' es a queer tyme to fiand oorselv's in."

Under his hood, Kaizo stopped listening. They were not wrong, but it was not his business after all. The renegade was out there and the elders had tasked him with finding him.

Pupils contracting, he sought out his charge, Lady Lenoira. She sat huddled in the corner again. A low growl formed at the back of his throat but he managed to swallow it before the noise became apparent. Filth. Utter and absolute filth.

Back in the village, he had had renown and many came to listen to his advice. He was not as deft with a blade or warfan as his companions had been, and he scoffed at the fellowship he once had felt, but he had been able to hold his own easily. Yet his role and rise to power had been brutally checked by the ambitions of a cur that he once called friend.

It was good of the elders to show him the way. He had brought Lenoire to have the comfort of a familiar face, but even that became lessened every day by her incessant whining about how he had wronged the damn cur.

Fury rising, Kaizo banged his wooden mug on an already damp table, signalling the oaf behind the counter for a refill.

The stench of this place, that was it, that was getting to him. As the bartender topped up Kaizo's drink, he flipped a silver coin at the man. For a moment their eyes met.

"D-d-d-DEMON!"

Oh bother. Now the killing would have to start again.

Lady Lenoira always was so cross with him after it all ended.

Hood thrown back and canines bared, Kaizo let out mad laughter.