They Might Be Heroes: Series 2

Another backstory for another of my wonderful characters. This one was a Pathfinder (D&D 3.75) character that I developed for a recent campaign, and though the campaign hasn't really gotten any momentum, I'm very pleased with how my creation turned out.

This was originally posted to Facebook on May 20th, 2013, and it was written not long before that.

Another side note, the Kitsune are a race of fox-like creatures that can take the form of a specific human at will. This passage also contains a small amount of strong language, so reader discretion is advised.

----------------

Ayaki, the Shade of Cunning
Kitsune Ninja

                Gregor took another swig of his ale as he watched the stage from his dark corner of the tavern. The Hound’s Respite was the sort of cheery and hospitable establishment which attracted all manner of tourists from around the realm, and so each night they would charm their guests with entertainers of all sorts. Tonight, the owner had found a particularly talented human dancer to delight his patrons.
                She was small, even for a girl, but she moved with a grace and poise that he rarely saw in these parts. Her steps brought to life the simple melody of the bard’s lute as she twirled about the stage. Each pirouette brought with it a flowing river of auburn hair which framed her pale complexion and golden eyes with a sea dancing lights as it reflected the various lamps set about the room. Her loose garb ebbed and flowed as she spun and seemed to carefully bend to her every whim. The bells hanging from the golden cloth would softly jingle with each pivot, always in perfect sync with her accompaniment. As she spun, so too spun golden ribbons, floating delicately yet deliberately through the air. Each ribbon was tipped with a magical golden light, making the performance both mesmerizing and surreal. It was undeniably beautiful.
                And yet Gregor took no pleasure in the performance. He took no pleasure in most things, in fact. The rage constantly burning in his belly left little room for contentment, and so he often found himself brooding for no reason beyond that of familiarity. Annoyed, he brought the flagon once again to his lips and continued to watch in grumpy silence.
                It took a moment to realize that the performance had ended. So transfixed was he on the flow of the dance and his own crotchety disposition that he had completely lost track of time. He leaned back in his chair with a groan as his muscles complained at their stiffness. He warily eyed the dancer leave the stage with a smile of childlike innocence on her face. His chair slowly slid back as he stood.
                Then and there it was decided. He would destroy that innocence.

...

                Rats scurried through the city’s dark streets at the sound of footsteps. Gregor’s heavy tread thumped ominously as he moved, his eyes never leaving the small girl in the road ahead. Every so often she would nervously glance behind her, the look of worry in her eyes growing ever deeper as they passed over his grim visage. Each time she would quicken her pace ever so slightly, and Gregor would match.
                He was not going to let his prize escape.
                After several minutes of this dance, the girl came to a side street and paused briefly, as if confused, before taking the path to her right. As she left his sight, he heard her quiet footsteps become fevered as she burst into a sprint.
                “So she’s tryin’ to run, is she? She ain’t gettin’ away that easy…”
                With a grimace, he gave chase, his feet sliding in the mud as he barrelled around the corner at full tilt. Gregor wasn’t exactly a graceful man, but years as the Jackal’s enforcer and a lifetime of poverty made him particularly good at navigating the arteries of the sprawling metropolis. He charged recklessly after his target, greedily smashing through whatever improvised obstacles she would frantically lay in her wake. Soon, though, the chase came to abrupt halt as the alley ended in a solid stone wall. The girl whimpered as she slid through the mud as refuse, hitting the wall with a muffled thunk.
                Gregor dug his boots into the dirt as he came to a stop, sending a shower of muck before him. He took heavy, measured steps as he lumbered toward the girl, his hulking form hunched like a beast and a grim sneer upon his twisted face.
                “Nowhere to run now, bitch,” he hissed.
                With a giggle, the girl’s posture suddenly straightened as she turned.
                “Good.”
                As a flash of magenta light stole his vision, he saw the girl smile.

...

                “Move, bitch.” Gregor prodded his prisoner with his claymore as he approached the Jackal’s lair.
                Before him was a small figure, her arms viciously tied behind her back with a thick rope. The parts of her body not covered with black leather armour were covered with equally black silken fur, her slender snout cushioned in a soft grey that adorned her neck and her palms. Her ears, now flaccid in defeat, both ended in an ebony tuft as sharp as the claws on each of her delicate fingers. Not one, but two dark tails followed her through the street, both tipped in the same murky grey.
                She stumbled a bit as her bulky captor kicked her into the tall building.
“Oy, Gregor, what’s this then?” A stocky dwarf sat perched on a rickety chair in the small entry hall. He was leaning back in his seat, with his feet perched on a small table and his hand perched on a broad axe nearly as tall as he was.
               “You remember how boss man said summit ‘bout someone out to get ‘im? Well I caught th’ bitch. I figure he’ll want a word or two with her.” The kitsune snarled back at him at that. He poked her with his sword in response.
               The Dwarf took his feet off the table and let his chair thunk forward as he let out a quick burst of amused laughter. “Oh hell! Good on ya! Yeah head on in. Things are quiet so you shouldn’t have to wait.”
               “You ‘eard ‘im. Get movin’.” With another prod the dishevelled fox moved toward the stairwell. As they ascended the various thugs and delinquents in the halls began to holler and hiss at her passing. Her eyes filled with tears as her ears filled with their lewd and vulgar exclamations. They fell down her face as she tightly shut her eyes to escape their leering, and she flinched as she was hit by the hard rolls they threw her, unable to dodge because of the confined space and the leash held tightly in the barbarian’s grasp.
               The shrieks from below muffled as Gregor shut the door to the building’s fourth and final floor. He roughly pushed his prisoner against the wooden wall as he rapped on the door of the elaborate office before him.
               A gruff voiced replied. “Come on in, Gregor.”
               The door creaked open as he forced the kitsune through the portal. With one final shove he forced her to her knees, giving just enough slack in the rope for her shoulders to emit an audible crack from the strain.
               For a moment that seemed an eternity the only sound in the room was the panting of the fox and the pointed scribbling of a quill on parchment from behind the office’s large, ironwood desk. When he had finished his thought, the jackal carefully placed his quill on the desk and slowly, deliberately stood. His chair groaned as is grated across the wooden floor.
               “Well then, what have we here?” The Jackal let a hint of a smile adorn his face as he carefully walked around his desk. His measured steps brought him to a halt right in front of the piteous hostage.
               The kitsune slowly raised her eyes to meet his, taking in the enormous presence before her. The Jackal was a large man, even for an orc, and he towered over the tiny creature before him. His rippling muscles were barely contained by the radiant half plate he wore, though both showed scars from years of furious battle. The amused smirk resting upon his face seemed like something out of a nightmare when set aside the garish scar that cut across his face and under the eye patch on his right eye. The room’s flickering candlelight danced upon his pearly tusks and smooth head.
               She began to tremble in his shadow.
               “So I hear that you were hired to take care of me.” His smile widened as he leaned closer. “I regret to inform you that you’ve failed in your mission.”
               After letting his statement sink in, he straightened again, unclasping his hands from behind his back and stepping back slightly. Suddenly, his whole body tensed as his right foot dug into the floor and like lightning his fist flew into the girl’s face. The tremendous blow sent her flying backward, tearing the rope out of Gregor’s hand as she collided with the room’s door with a sickening thud. She whimpered as she collapsed in a heap.
               The smile grew wider.
               As he started walking, the Jackal held out his hand, and without hesitation Gregor handed his master his sword. “I don’t look kindly on assassins.”
               When he reached the shivering pile of fur he stopped and raised his sword. “You’ll be an example to all the others.” With a wild look in his eyes and a howl of rage, he thrust his sword down toward the piteous creature.
               But suddenly she was no longer there. As the claymore stabbed into the floor he felt a small prick on the back of his ankle, in the small space where his greaves met his boots.
               The world became a blur as he turned to see the kitsune crouched in the middle of the office, a small bladed fan clenched in her unbound grip. “Wha…”
               The word trailed off as his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the hard floor. The room filled with a thunderous crash as orc and steel collapsed before her.
               The fox smiled before she straightened. “Good night.”
               Ayaki grimaced slightly as she nursed her face. The orc certainly knew how to throw a punch. She was able to absorb some of the impact with her training, but dodging it completely would have been too obvious, and it hurt something fierce.
               She looked over at her thrall for a moment, then with a pointed nod toward the orcish heap before her she issued a mental command to wrap up the body. Gregor immediately pulled a tapestry from the wall and began to roll up the body. The once-proud jackal was now just a helpless mound of flesh.
               That poison was worth every copper, she thought.
               As Gregor hoisted his old master’s body onto his shoulder she idly splashed some of the Jackal’s own wine on the tapestry and mentally commanded him to proceed. He left through the door to the office as Ayaki moved toward the window. She carefully peered at the muddy road four storeys below as the door closed behind her. Through the panels she heard muffled exclamations the incredulous thugs inquire about the commotion.
               Gregor was as blunt as ever. “She didn’t make it. You might wanna leave the boss man alone for a bit. You know ‘ow ‘e gets.”
               Ayaki giggled as she hopped up onto the window’s sill. She was lucky that the city’s underbelly was so undereducated. In any case, her job wasn’t done just yet.
               After a moment of collecting her thoughts, she leaped off of the ledge. With a delicate twist she began to twirl as she accelerated toward the ground. For a brief time the stagnant air of the slums sang through her fur. She revelled in that instant; took it in with a deep breath and a characteristic grin.
               As the ground approached, she released her breath and looked deep within herself. She focused on the energy at her core and directed it outward. The air around her began to thicken, and her descent slowed. Like a feather she alighted into the muck with a graceful curtsy.
               Now then, she thought as she straightened. Let’s get this jackal behind bars.

...

                “Hello gentlemen!”
                Ayaki entered the barracks with a flourish and a bow. The few imperial guards going about their busywork took only a moment to regard the intrusion before going on their way. She heard a few fatigued soldiers muttering their discontent. Only the guard captain acknowledged her entry with a curt nod.
                Ayaki sighed as she straightened and began shuffling across the room to the captain’s desk. She flopped down in the chair he motioned to with a huff. “That wasn’t quite the welcome I was expecting, Captain Fairmont.”
                The captain allowed a tired smile to show through his unkempt beard as he shrugged. “I’m sorry, milady. The Magistrate has been rather demanding of late.” His smile faded as he scanned his men. “It’s taking a toll on all of us.”
                He took a deep breath before he continued. “So, what news do you bring?”
                Ayaki scrunched her nose as she arched into a deep stretch in the chair. “At the moment I don’t bring any news at all, but I can assure you my news will be arriving shortly.”
                This was met with a look of confusion. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand…” His voice trailed off as a commotion erupted at the entryway. He looked past the now-smiling kitsune to the sight of a large man forcing his way through a number of frantic guards with a stained tapestry slung over his shoulder. “Stop! You can’t go in there! Somebody do something!”
                “It’s alright, stand down.” Fairmont shared a pointed look with his guest before rising to his feet and walking around his small desk. Several of the guards had drawn steel and were beginning to surround the intruder. Gregor stopped in the middle of the room, a few short steps in front of the befuddled Fairmont. “Um, hello there.”
                Ayaki leaned back in her chair and placed her feet upon the captain’s desk. She crossed her hands behind her head and addressed the barbarian without looking back. “Oh Gregor, be a dear and bring your friend down to the dungeon, would you? The good captain will show you the way.”
                Stone-faced, Gregor cracked his burly neck with a twitch of his head. “Well, go on then.”
                There was an awkward moment of silent incredulity before Fairmont, never blinking, motioned to a thick iron door on his right. Gregor readjusted the weight on his shoulder before heading in that direction. He roughly heaved the door open and proceeded to duck through the portal. There was a loud clang as one end of the tapestry banged against the door frame. One of the older guards fumbled with a set of rusty iron keys as he hastily followed.
                “Oh, and find yourself a nice comfy cell while you’re down there. You’ll be here for a while.” Ayaki giggled as he grunted his acknowledgement. She began rocking the chair slightly as Fairmont returned to his desk. He sat down and slowly tucked his chair in, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.
                He opened his mouth as if to speak a number of times, but no sound came forth. After each attempt he seemed to reconsider, his face contorted with disbelief. Eventually, he was able to collect his thoughts.
                “How did you do that?”
                Ayaki let slip another contented giggle before letting the front legs of her chair meet the floor once again. She leaned forward and winked. “I have my ways.”
                She hopped out her seat and causally placed her clawed hands upon the desk in front of her. “In any case, my good captain, you now have in your holding not one, but two of this city’s most dangerous criminals! I hope my service was to your satisfaction.”
                As if hit by a sudden realization, Fairmont jumped in his chair and frantically opened a drawer on his desk. “Oh yes! Certainly. I apologize, milady.” He pulled up a hefty leather bag and placed it between them. The satisfying jingle of coin make Ayaki’s smile widen. “As promised, 40 platinum for the Jackal, and an additional 20 for his enforcer.”
                With a satisfied nod the kitsune deftly snatched the bag and after giving it a quick to test the weight slipped it into her waist pouch. “Excellent! Pleasure working with you, sir.” She turned and began to walk away, but paused to look over her shoulder. “Oh, and my sword if you please.”
                “Of course, I had forgotten. My apologies, milady.” He reached under the desk and produced a scabbard, throwing it to the girl as she continued to walk away.
                She reached behind her and caught it without breaking stride, and in one smooth motion she spun the scabbard beneath her, the sword inside sliding loose from its momentum. As the sword passed in front of her it broke free of its home, spinning as it sang through the air. She gracefully snatched it by the hilt and slowly lowered it in front of her, looking deep into the polished blade. She paused for a moment, as if lost in her own reflection, before dextrously sliding it back into its scabbard, now firmly attached to her hip.
                “Fare well, Fairmont.”

...

               It was a cool, crisp morning. The rising sun bathed the city in golden light as it peeked above the jagged mountains on the horizon. Ayaki took it in with a deep breath from her rooftop perch, her legs swinging with childlike innocence above the streets below. She loved the sunrise. To her, the dawn had its own special kind of magic; turning this wretched, begrimed city into a pace of solemn serenity for but a few precious minutes each day. She leaned back, closed her eyes, and let the morning’s warmth wash over her as she reminisced about her home.
                She pictured the light slowly bringing the forest to life, the fiery reds and yellows of the autumn leaves erupting in a symphony of colour as the local fauna awakened. In her mind’s eye the piercing calls of bird and beast alike filled the air as a pristine breeze rolled gently through her fur. For a perfect moment she let her imagination run wild, and felt perfectly at peace.
                She sighed as she opened her eyes. She missed her woodland village dearly but she knew her curiosity about the world could never be satisfied if she went back. There was far too much to learn.
                The market square below her slowly began filling with merchants carting goods to their stalls. She stretched as she looked over the scene. A few of the traders were greeting each other with joyous exclamations, but for the most part their preparation was a quiet and drowsy affair. They yawned as all manner of goods were placed on display for all in the soon-to-be bustling square to see.
                She idly drummed her clawed fingers on her coinpurse. She had been rather prosperous of late, but her needs were simple ones, and aside from a few extravagant meals she couldn’t decide what to do with her wealth. She took another look over the emerging scene below her. Couldn’t hurt to look, she thought.
                It wasn’t long before she had made her way to the streets below. As she walked between the stalls she greeted each merchant with a casual smile as she perused their wares. She took her time admiring exotic fruits and extravagant (though obviously fake) pendants and jewellery of all sorts as the local denizens began to slowly wander into the square. The air began to fill with the calls of the shopkeepers hawking their wares in desperate search for deep pockets.
                A sudden bellow of “hush, bird!” brought her from her musings. She peered toward the source only to see a small, exasperated goblin angrily tapping his walking stick against a small cage. An exasperated bird of prey screeched its displeasure and resumed tapping its beak on the bars of its prison.
                Amused, Ayaki skipped over to the shop. A large smile accompanied her greeting. “Hello, sir!”
                “Oh, hello there young miss! Can I interest you in any of my fine fare? Beasts of sea, shore, and sky grace my humble shop.” The bird in the cage, an elegant falcon screeched at him angrily. His eyes never leaving the customer and his smile never leaving his face, he struck another blow to the cage with his walking stick, muttering “hush” under his breath.
                “Your little friend doesn’t appear to be having the best of days.”
                His smile turned to a disgruntled pout as he exhaled. “Quite.” He glared at the bird. “Truth be told it’s generally rather well behaved, but it doesn’t like to be confined.” He was met with another screech. “Unfortunately I can’t keep it out of the cage because it also hates to sit still.”
                Ayaki moved her face close to the cage. The falcon responded with a curious tilt of its head. She found it rather odd that a bird, even a bird of prey, wasn’t at least a little put off by having a fox in such close proximity. “Wouldn’t it fly off?”
                The shopkeeper shrugged. “Probably. But that’s not much of a problem.” He fished through the many pockets of his baggy coat and pulled out a small whistle which appeared to be carved out of bone. “As I said, it’s fairly well trained. Three quick blows of this whistle and she’ll come flying right to you.”
                Her eyes lit up a little. She turned to look at the goblin. “I’d like to see that.”
                “Oh well, certainly. One moment please…” The goblin spun around and began searching through a study chest on his wagon. After some rummaging he emerged with a leather gauntlet adorned with a small ring and a tassel. He placed it upon his left wrist before moving to the cage. The falcon screeched in excitement. “You, uh, might want to step back a bit.”
                Ayaki smiled and with a curt nod took two exaggerated steps backward into the road, ending her motion with a quick hop. When he determined she wouldn’t be moving back any farther, the goblin gingerly reached toward the clasp of the cage. The bird inside sat motionless in anticipation. Slowly carefully, the clasp was unfastened. As soon as it clicked, the falcon burst into action, ramming into the cage’s door; eliciting a terrified shriek from the shopmaster and a delighted shriek from his patron. She clapped excitedly as the bird shot into the sky like an arrow. It let out a triumphant screech as it began circling the square.
                It took a minute for the rattled goblin to compose himself. He shook his head a little and wiped the shoulders of his coat before taking a few small steps into the middle of the road. With a brief nervous smile to the kitsune, he cleared his throat and brought the whistle to his lips. He hesitated as it hovered awkwardly before his face. His eyes shifted to his patron, who encouraged him to proceed with raised eyebrows and the most subtle of nods. With a slight grimace and a deep breath, he blew into the whistle.
                It was a much softer sound that Ayaki had anticipated. Three clear, round notes filled the air, and the goblin immediately shot his left arm into the air, ducking and covering his head with his right. There was only a brief pause before the falcon came barrelling down. With a resounding whoosh and a beat of its mighty wings it slowed its descent and softly landing on the goblin’s glove. It let out a delighted screech as it cocked its head in a series of quick movements.
                The goblin visibly relaxed and released a drawn out sigh of relief. He turned back to his patron. “See? Very well trained.”
                Ayaki smiled and darted forward, rubbing the bird’s neck with one of her fingers. It let out a soft coo in approval. “That was wonderful! A very impressive display! And you were so very brave.”
                The goblin blushed. “Ah yes well, all in a day’s work really…”
                Suddenly, the falcon shot off of her master’s arm, who proceeded to let out another terrified shriek. It dove into the street with great speed and snatched up a rat which was scurrying between some of the neighbouring stalls. It snapped the beast’s neck in its talons before circling around and dropping its prize at the goblin’s feet and beginning to feast.
                Ayaki’s eyes widened and her smile grew. “I’ll take it!”
                It took a moment for her exclamation to break through the goblin’s surprise and disgust at the scene before him. “Oh, you will? Excellent! Yes, um, very good. Now then. Yes…” He hastily removed the gauntlet and circled around his stall to fetch a rugged book from his belongings. He opened it to reveal a list of transactions from previous customers. “So, for the falcon, the price is 40 gold pieces, and you’ll be needing the gauntlet of course, which is an additional 10.” He scribbled down a quick note in the logbook.
                “I’ll also take that delightful whistle and a day’s worth of feed, if you have it.” She excitedly fastened the falconry gauntlet to her wrist as she spoke.
                “Ah yes, of course. That will increase the price by 1 gold piece, bringing your total to 51 gold pieces.”
                She reached into her coinpurse and counted out the necessary funds, eagerly passing them to the shopkeeper before bending down to retrieve her new pet, now nearly finished with its breakfast. She held out her wrist and the bird casually hopped into place. She fastened the ring to its ankle before straightening to retrieve the rest of her order.
                The goblin smiled in relief as he closed his logbook and stowed it back in his cart. “Oh, you can have the cage as well, no charge. It comes with—“
                “That won’t be necessary, master goblin.” Ayaki looked deep into her pet’s eyes as she interrupted him. “Pariah is a free bird. Her only cage shall be her imagination.”
                “Pariah…?”
                “A pet must have a name, master goblin.” With a final smile at the shopkeeper, she began to walk away. “Now then, my dear. Let’s have an adventure.”