birbsord

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Fighter: “I crush the skull into powder.”

DM: “Ok, what now?”

Fighter: “I snort it.”

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Moments before the end; part three.

It was the screams that woke Iimura up from his drunken sleep. His things were still where he had left them, his blades in his arms and the rest that was dropped on the floor. Even though his eyes were still hazily scanning through the room, the tengu knew what was going on. He smelled tengu blood in the air.

“Krleth!” 

Iimura rushed to the common room with his swords unsheathed, to only to find two of his group dead on the floor, their chests sliced open. But Kitara was missing. “Krleth!!” Iimura cursed loudly. The tengu shook off the rest of the alcohol haze and took a quick look around. Seemed like the attacker knew exactly who to aim at since the inn patrons were not dead on the floor with him comrades. ‘Only one attacker? No. Two?... Someone tracked us here.’  Another yell came from outside again and this time Iimura almost flew out of the door. “Kitara!” The large tengu soldier called Kitara, lied on the ground on a pool of blood with his lower beak hacked off from his face. Iimura swallowed and felt nauseous. He had done similar acts, or even worse, to his enemies. But seeing another one of his kind like that was always a different story. 

“Oh? I thought you left the inn.” A female voice said. The tengu raised his eyes from the ground, only to see that the speaker was the woman he had been eyeing up earlier. He ruffled his feathers slightly as to keep his nerves in check. The woman did not react to him much, though. “Good thing you got back. I’ll get a reward on any rebel tengu beak I bring, you see.” Something black moved swiftly behind the woman’s back and hurled towards Iimura’s head. He barely managed to swat a black, fang like thing on the ground with his sword. Iimura grinned mockingly at the fang and then at the woman. “Ka! Ka ka ka! A jorōgumo? The Oni’s hired a spider to slaughter my brethren?? I’m more amazed that a fat ass web spinner hadn’t even gobbled everyone up in here yet!”

“Hmph. A mouthy one again.” The spider woman huffed and began to extruding long, spidery legs under her extravagant, velvety kimono. The legs settled on her sides with snaps and pops, making her rise up from the ground. “I kinda liked your friend over there. He was even proud to fight against me, but then I cut him down like a fly.” “Pfhew! Kitara was always a buffoon in a fight. Overconfident.” Iimura sighed and kickt the corpse of his dead comrade on to the side.

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[[ Totally unnecessary ooc-post, but today I learned that Jo is a name of a beating stick that the Japanese police officers occasionally still use.

“A jō (杖:じょう) is an approximately 1.27-metre (4.2 ft) wooden staff, used in some Japanese martial arts.”

So, Jo Iimura was pretty much “The Beating Stick - Iimura” when he was alive. It all makes so much sense now! ]]

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[[ Darn. I’m really having some hard time writing the last chapter. I know the story is there, I have commissioned art to post soon too, but the story is just not writing itself yet. ]] Iimura: KA KA KA the writer is a ninny! [[ SHUT IT! ]]

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Did Iimura's line continue? Did he have any descendants? Or, for that matter, did his clan have any noteworthy heroes?

[[ Straight descendants from Iimura’s bloodline are unknown. He himself was born and orphaned during a very bloody period of time when the tengu and the oni were waging a war against each other, which then was proceeded to clean away from the known history, so he would have not care about having a family. Tengu tribes either lived and knelt under the oni’s rule or they died. He himself knew he would die in that war, or that he would be hunted down for the crimes he did during it.

Any female coming to him while carrying around a toddler would have been dismissed and chased away because they would have been a burden to him. ]]

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Moments before the end, part two.

The bodies were just left on the road like rag dolls, leaving one of the heads hanging on a pole as a gruesome discovery for whoever would use the mountain road next. The oni’s head was picked clean and empty eye sockets stared off towards the skyline, with a nasty toothy grin as the lips and the tongue were cut off. The job had been done and the tengus blood lust was satiated for the day. 

The group had found their way to a certain inn and far away from the scene. One of the oni’s had been carrying gold with them, which had been confiscated and shared as it was just in such times as war, and that was providing the payment for such enjoyable events, as drinking and maybe a nap on a woman’s lap. One could easily hear the groups joyful laughter outside the door.

“And, and then haahah, and then the fox changed their human face to a hhaaahha, into an OWL!! While taking a dump!! Brraahhahahha!!” 

“Oh, Iimura! Iimura, brother, where are ya going? We still have more stories to tell.” One of the larger tengus called Kitara, noted after seeing Iimura retiring towards the door.  “I’ve heard that stupid story hundreds of times by now, I’m tired and I want to sleep.” Iimura croaked and emptied the bottle into his beak. “Ha! Humans shit! You only managed to injure that one oni and now you claim to be tired?” Kitara laughed.

Iimura didn’t take the joke lightly and threw the empty bottle at the group, who all dodged it easily. “Shut your beak, you fat bag of feathers, or I’ll sew it close!” He yelled and slammed the door behind him. He had too much to drink already and was feeling drunk enough that a nap would be needed to clear his head. Iimura had also been eyeing the one of the human looking patrons carefully, though he could not determinate what kind of a spirit she was. A tanuki perhaps? A part of his drunken mind had been trying to figure out why he couldn’t sense the air around her, but another part of an ancient lizard brain had been hinting about dragging the woman in his room for closer ”inspection”. Bah. The bed was far more interesting now than some wench.

Iimura passed out while holding his sword and dagger in a tight grasp. One would never know when a comrade thought pawning your weapons and drinking the money would be a funny prank. Especially when he himself was notorious on doing so.

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Hello talking knife friend! The Tengu holding you is currently sad and frustrated. You can tell because he's drinking and not offering any to sword. How sad. Very sad, yes. Sorry sharp friend. "Cousin Iimura, I don't know if I can rally all the Tengu together. It seems like they're never going to unite! How did you get others to follow your orders? Is there some trick to leadership?"

The good and noble spirit of Iimura would seem offended, if it would have not been for the fact that the said spirit might have been napping while, it’s new host was drowning their sorrows in a bottle. How can a spirit nap, you ask?

Skills.

“Ssnoooorrr-krghfgh-bha-feh??… Uhh, huh? Leadership?… Hrmmm, well you need a cause for that; Usually a war does it nicely, you know. Then you can pretty much waltz in there, slash couple of morons heads off and yell ‘I KNOW WHAT WE SHOULD DO! FOLLOW ME!’. People used to respected a strong leader with a good grasp of an ax in my days.”

“Ka ka ka ka! Why do you think the Oni’s were so successful in the first place?” 

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Before he became sord, did Jo have any scars people would notice?

[[ Yes, as a matter of fact. His beak is riddled with scratches and a small chip missing on the left side on the beak. There are couple big scars on his upper torso and back, but one couldn’t see them under all the plumage. ]]

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So, why did Iimura end up in a tanto, as opposed to any other weapon? Did he have a special connection to this particular piece of steel?

[[ Oh hey, spoilers! I’m actually currently writing another part that dips into that story. All I am willing to say that it is closely entwined with the last moments before his inevitable death! ]]

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Moments before the end, part one.

The gracious and wise Oni, that had rose from the ground and brought peace between the tengu tribes hundreds years ago, had finally stumbled against the rebellious ones, who had always view the onis as conquerors needing slaves.

Against the misconception, tengus were not one, united clan on the days of old when the oni rose from the earth and confronted the first tengu tribes. The tribes had constant squabbles against their own, whether for food, living space, breeding rights, or just plain raiding the other tribe because someone looked at them funnily. The so-called-gracious-and-wise Oni, had stumbled right between that, until recently the rebels openly waged a war.

Jo Iimura, just another bloodied beak in the row of other fighters, was tired. But today had been a good day, all in all. Iimura’s group had ambushed two onis wandering on the mountain road while waiting patiently in the bushes and trees, striking in their blind spots and away from the range of the oni’s clubs. The attack was quick for one of the onis, but the last one had not been as lucky as Iimura had first attacked behind him and jammed a tanto through the knee. While the wailing oni had fallen on the ground, Iimura’s group were already done and standing grinning around the corpse.

“You... sons of she wolves! You dare to attack the mighty Oni?! After All that we’ve done for you!?”

Iimura stepped his foot on the oni’s throat, digging his claws on the onis skin so that blood was drawn. Iimura began to cackle. “Ka ka ka! Can you hear this, brothers? After all they’ve done to us?”  All the tengus burst into laughter while gathering around Iimura and the oni, sending kicks and sand on his face. “Ever thought to ask us if we ever wanted your help?” Iimura’s laughter died out and he lowered his beak closer to oni’s face, feeling the foul breath in his nostrils. Iimura could hear the creature’s heartbeat fastening under his claws, which only made him grin even more before the tengu plunged his beak in the oni’s eye, ripping it off from its socket in one slow movement and ate it while the other tengus held the screaming creature down...

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Truth to be told, hearing that his former brethren being able to calm down after the chaotic years of constant fighting, did not impress much the old ghost. He was a product of constant fighting and he fell while fighting. He found the peace odd. Then something else caught the daggers interest. The fan.

“Hrrmhh.... That fan of yours. You seem to be a wealthy brother, ka ka ka! The last time I saw one of those, it was only a right for the richest and noblest to carry... Except that back in my day we did not possess such magic just yet. Ka ka ka. Could have made quite the difference on the field of battle,” it more or less uttered to itself when the duo passed through the rift.

“KA KA KA ka ka kakakaka! The Mountain!!” It almost yelled. So many memories flashed through Iimuras spirit and with such a passion that it wouldn’t be a surprise if the younger tengu carrying the blade could feel them too. Memories from time that everyone had forgotten. Couple old buildings that had claimed their place and managed to survive through the history with only slight touch of changes, tengu people walking on the old streets, all of these mixed with the present just for a moment. “KAA! If I could just smell the air!” The spirits voice said. “Please humor this old bone of a crow and tell me that the old pleasure streets are still there? Ohh, what I would pay to be able to visit the sweet ladies there again. Hrhn hrhn hrhn.... Oh. Wait. They’d be rather old by now, wouldn’t they? Or alive? Bah! Dead or old! I’d still kiraar f’lecthre’s nussni glendth ee klek klek drreee’thh! (Pull their tail feathers up and **** **** ******* ***** sideways!) KA KA KA KA KA!”

THE BEGINNINGS and why alcohol and sharp objects don’t fit well together.

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Why would one NSFW with a sword anyway?

[[ Seems like this person has honestly forgotten that NSFW also means; rather colorful cursing, graphical and detailed physical violence, smoking, being a huge ass, stealing candies from kids, yelling lewdness towards well endowed women and men, kicking elderly people in the gutter and rather inappropriate alcohol and/or drug usage. ]]

[[ NSFW does not limit itself on only sexual interaction. That would be very silly. ]]

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Musings

What does a thing on the floor think, while waiting for you to hit your toes on it?

“Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun. Ka ka ka.”

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Return... To the Mountain? Such an odd notion. The spirit inside the dagger felt confused. As almost it didn’t know what to feel. Joy? Fear? Nothing? It had been decades since anyone had even managed to bring the dagger anywhere near the Mountain! Ohh, but the curiosity. The curiosity! HSDHggdgdghsdagjsdhgad!

Iimura decided to sleep on it.

“Ka ka ka?  Another foundling? This is such a odd meeting indeed! I had some hopes that there would be less orphans in the future. Mainly because fighting and begging over the food was so damn tiring... Very well, young feather brother! You have the honors to bring me to your home, but I must insist that you drop me off to the nearest loan seller by tomorrow! I cannot stand being in one place without a carrier, let alone stand the thought of it. There are places I want to see! Humans to bother. Bodies to cut into tiny tiny pieces and drinks the blood--- I mean. Laugh at the humans. Ka ka ka! Krhm! Ignore the last bit.”

THE BEGINNINGS and why alcohol and sharp objects don’t fit well together.

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The spirit Iimura listened carefully at the young lad. It felt... Confused. Honestly, the spirit hadn’t even thought of that in time, changes would happen. Like the clans dissolving in to one group. Hated enemies because teachers and... And held honorable status amongst his people? Madness.  

One of the things that hardly ever gets thought when one dies, the self doesn’t drag all the bothersome, slow, and rather needy material with it any longer. The mind itself is free to work as it was meant to. No body that demands sleep or nutrition and slows your thought process down. While Iimura was alive, he was considered quite mad. As deceased, Iimura was mad simply out of habit. The dagger let out the loudest, most obnoxious cackle. 

“Teachers!” Iimura gloated. “Ooo~. Our beloved teachers showed us the road of unity~. KA KA KA KA KA!..... Haah. Phew... Bec’ran Daichi. Remind me to tell you couple of stories from the battlefield to you. You would be surprised~.”

“Iimura is my own clan. Lot of hatchlings were orphans on my days, so was Jiub. I fought on the streets, he patched me up. I stole, he’d rather peg for food. Then I joined the army and he stayed behind. I saw him occasionally on the road. Eeh... Threw him couple of coins and then spent the rest of them on women. That’s our story. I would shrug if I would still have my shoulders... Hrmmh. As for what killed me, we were fighting those keern’fl  foxes during the time. They were..Hrmh.. What was is. Something that our clan leaders were trying to smooth over, but then some two hot heads started a fight on the street. Ka ka ka! I woke up from my nap, when on the street and saw a spear heading on my way. That was my final memory, before I woke up again in this dagger.”

THE BEGINNINGS and why alcohol and sharp objects don’t fit well together.

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“Huh... The clans merged in the end? But Tenma Jiub? Ka! My, my, my, Jiub. So much gained by a simpleton that preached on the roadsides.” There was a hint of fondness in that reminiscent voice. 

“I remember the peasants calling him a saint; Always thanking him for the smallest of alms of coppers, clothing... Scraps of food not even a rat would eat... Even sharing his last drops of sake! The fool!” The tanto seemed to shake slightly in the tengus hands. Apparently the dagger was able to lightly move itself if it was under some emotional turmoils. Feeling distressed about sake? Once a drunk, always a drunk, as they say!

“Hrmh. But the clans got united after all? Ka ka ka. That was the only sane thing coming from that fools beak that I supported. There was constant attacks from left with the tanukis and right with the kitsunes and then someone called someones mother a baclh’lass’nre (Translation not available. Not suitable for young readers.), and our own blood started to hate someone and bla bla bla.” The voice of the deceased Jo Iimura began to grow more weary and slightly slurry. Seems like the sake had finally started to soak through the metal, or maybe that it was the will of the spirit possessing dagger, that decided that now was a good time to be drunk. If there is a will, there is a way. ”Ugh... It was so tiresome. The rest was just for the hopeless fools to keep their wing on the air.”

After a moment the voice surrounding the tanto seemed to perk up a little, like it suddenly remembered something “Hrmh... You sounded more that surprised to hear about the Oni’s, young one. Do you see a problem with my story?” 

THE BEGINNINGS and why alcohol and sharp objects don’t fit well together.

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“The first? KA KA KA KA! There we dozens of those before the so-called-first-suppression that the officials tell you about! They wanted to keep those in secret all because of ‘un-official affairs of our Beloved Leader’. Le’erkin ghol... (Scum of the skies...)” The last part was spoken in such a bitter tone as if the speaker was genuinely both disgusted and amused of the past politics. 

“The Devas were already there when I was alive. But we Tengus and Onis were constantly fighting over the space on the Mountains back then... Or was it because one of the religious sites?... Bah! It was both anyway! If I had a body, I would show you that I would still have the Oni foot print on my arse from the fights we had! Ka ka ka! Things only got ugly when someone was poisoning the sake barrels from both of our side and the Onis side. That fueled the fury inside the troops even more and we started to hunt down whole villages! Friend or foes! We just wanted the enemy to suffer.” 

The tanto fell quiet for a moment as it was trying to awoken more of the old memories from the past. Or it was waiting for another taste of sake. If it could have decided, it would be just dropped inside the bottle and be forgotten in there.

“...Hrmhh... Ka ka ka. Say, brother Yuutamo. Tell me, how are the fairs between the clans these days? Are they still fighting and throwing rocks at each other, or did they start to follow the path of uniting that Saint Ootengu Jiub was preaching for?”

THE BEGINNINGS and why alcohol and sharp objects don’t fit well together.