Game of Cards

[Herald_of_Fate]

The Hands have been dealt and to the one who gathers all the Cards shall go the spoils.
Some shall battle to win glory, others for the love of spilling blood, and still others simply because they must.
But in the end, only one shall remain to hand the Bloodied deck back to the Gods and wash his hands of all things Mortal.
Such is the Game...

[Herald_of_Fate]

The ferry from the eastern shore of the Vargois river to the city of Deneb'tygai was running late, the small crowd of locals milling about, speculating on the reason. Of the group of about 30 people, only one stood apart, his lithe frame seated on the warm grass, his wide brimmed straw hat shading his face, his angular features relaxed as he meditated. His keikogi, storm grey and clean despite signs of wear, bore the indigo symbol of the School of Four Stances, a school so exclusive and brutal only a single user of the style could live at any one time. Once a master reached a certain age, he chose a single student and when he'd taught him all that he knew, never picked up a sword again. The meditating young man was hardly more than 20 years of age, in the prime of his strength and skill. But the reason for his cushion of space was most likely the sheathed katana resting across his legs. Even in the emptiness of mind that accompanied his meditations, he perceived snatches of whispered conversation between the locals.

"I wonder what business he has in the city.."
"The School of Four Stances...killers they are. Masters of the blade..."
"He is a marked man. Keep clear of him; he'll get challenges galore once he enters the city..."

If they only knew, Ran thought with an inner smile. He was more than marked. He was the Seven of Spades, a participant, willing or not, in the Game of Cards. The only reason he even knew what the Game was about was his master...the former Seven of Spades. When the Ace of Hearts had come to the School, his master had had no choice but to duel the other Cardbearer to the death. However, rather than kill him outright, the Ace had wounded Ran's sensei mortally, leaving him to die. It was Ran who had come and ended his sensei's suffering, took his Mark, and taken up his master's blade, Limitless Edge. The fact that his sensei had been his father made it personal, but even Ran recognized the fact as irrelevant. He had to ensure the School, the pride of his family for over 100 generations, endured beyond his lifespan and so it meant doing what all the masters before him had refused to do: to take the skills of the School and use them to win the Game of Cards before one of the other 51 Cardbearers could end his life.

The smell of smoke and the sound of an explosion suddenly assaulted his nostrils and ears, bringing his meditation to an abrupt end. A scream that followed shortly brought Ran to his feet, his right hand gripping the hilt of his sword. His seawater green eyes took in the scene with a mixture of shock and disgust. The ferry, a retrofitted military cutter, had laid a line of cannon fire upon the beach, sending the surviving locals running for cover. Inexplicably the ferry itself was on fire. Squinting into the flames, the young warrior could just make out a figure on the deck before a half dozen objects came flying at him. Deftly, Ran drew his sword, using two strokes to deflect the first three and utilizing a technique known as the Ghost Step to evade the last two, seeming to vanish from their path. 'Damn...I'd hope to avoid be attacked until I reached the city, Ran mused as he watched the boat run aground. Now he could clearly see his opponent, a young woman of perhap 14 years clad in a long , ragged straightjacket and armed with a fistful of throwing daggers. Some instinct spoke to Ran, told him to be wary, that there was some danger unseen. Then the hull on the boat exploded as another girl identical to the first burst from the burning craft, wielding a massive zanbatou with a serrated edge. His mind whirled as he came to a conclusion: these two were Cardbearers. And it was extraordinarily likely he'd have to kill them both...or be killed trying.

To be continued...

[Herald_of_Fate]

"Hoi, looks like we've got a contender here, Naomi...wonder if he'll be as easy to kill as the last one." the twin wielding the knives said in a cold, emotionless monotone. "A Cardbearer most certainly. This will make 3, won't it, sis?"

Ran slowly shifted into the Water stance, his muscles going relaxed and ready, his left foot forward and squared toward his opponents, the Limitless Edge parallel to the earth and shoulder high. His left arm free and held out behind him, he let out a slow breath before he spoke.

"I do not plan on dying today, ladies...at least not due to the likes of you. I guess I should inform you. My name is Ran Mitsimura, Lone Master of the Four Stances and the Seven of Spades," he exclaimed with a small smile. "If you mean to take my Mark, come and try!!!"

Naomi leapt from the deck and landed gracefully beside her twin. "Let's make this quick, Annabelle...the city guard will be still be after us." Annabelle nodded her acknowledgement and seemed to fly over the distance between herself and the katana-wielding warrior. Ran barely moved as he parried and blocked a succession of swift brutal blows before locking her sword against the ground and delivering a devastating roundhouse kick to her jaw that sent her sprawling in the dust. A back step and slight bend to the right took him out of the path of a trio of Naomi's deadly barbs and an arcing strike at his throat. His retaliatory swipe at her waist was evaded with a well-timed back handspring but she could not react in time to a vicious backhand. Assuming his stance once more, he chuckled.

"You can't hope to defeat me with anything less than your best...I've business across the river. And you will not stand in my way."

Annabelle laughed back, nodding to Naomi knowingly. "Now! Blow him to bits!!!" she screamed.

Ran had only a second to react before an explosion rocked the shore, obsurcing all from view in a shower of sand and debris. "Ha, got him!!! Those exploding shruiken were the best idea we've ever had." Annabelle intoned with a smile. "There's no way he survived that...wait..wha..?"

In the spot where Ran had stood, a massive bubble stood, its liquid surface shimmering in the sun as the smoke cleared. His voice, clear despite the fact he was surrounded by water, came out of the bubble. "Very clever. But cheap tricks will not win you my Mark! Allow me to show some of the power of the Four Stances...Edge Torrent Rain!!!"

A roaring stream of water erupted from the bubble, engulfing both of them. The force of the attack slammed them both through the ship's hull and extinguished the flames nearly instantly. The attack itself, one of the strongest within the Water Stance, altered the state of the Limitless Edge into a liquid state. It retained however the ability to cut and stab. Thus, as Ran terminated the attack and resheathed the blade, it was little surprise to him to see the Twins cut a myriad of ways that seemed impossible with a sword. He approached the pair cautiously, watching them for any sign of movement. He flipped over Annabelle with his sandaled left foot, staring down at her as her sapphire eyes fluttered open.

"You...you killed..my...sister...you..." she coughed, blood trickling from between her lips.

"Had you the power, you would not have hesistated to kill me. You attacked me unprovoked...and killed a bunch of innocent people besides." he muttered, drawing his sword once more. "I will grant you the mercy of a swift end...if you grant me one boon."

She groaned and coughed, spitting blood as she nodded agreement.

"When you arrive in Hell, if you see the Ace of Hearts, tell him that death will not save him from my blade, that I will fight my way down into Hell's deepest pits and darkest corners to take his head. Tell him that I will not stop until my sensei is avenged..."

Ran raised the Limitless Edge, looking into her eyes. She said nothing, only nodded for him to continue. The blade fell...and the Three of Clubs was no more.

After beheading Naomi in like fashion, Ran flicked the blood from his sword, sheathed it, gathered his straw hat and continued down the shore, looking to cross the river at the Bridge of Xerxus 10 miles south. His first taste of the Game of Cards as the Seven of Spades had left him cold, numb to the deaths of the odd Twins who carried the Three of Clubs and the Deuce of Diamonds. Was this what he had to look forward to, causing death to strangers, being attacked without warning? What twisted Gods could condone this? Shrugging his shoulders, the Lone Master walked on toward his next challenge.

[Herald_of_Fate]

The city of Deneb'tygai, nestled at the fertile lands at the mouth of the Vargois river, glittered like a jewel under the early evening sun as Ran strode slowly across the shallow rise in the bridge of Xerxus, the blue black Conth Sea stretching into the horizon behind it. The tiny multicolored dots on the waters surfaced, Ran surmised, was the massive fishing and trade fleet the city supported as well as the battleships of the Imperial Navy who had a sizable outpost within the harbor itself, or so he'd learned through a bit of careful eavesdropping on travelers on the road.

Ran still kept the singular focus that his training had fostered. He needed the swordsmith known only as the Saint. His master's dying words had cemented this quest into his future with the promise of a twin blade for the Limitless Edge as well as a scroll documenting a group of techniques considered to be the most secret within the Four Stances. He was not certain whether or not these new tools alone might help him win the Game of Cards, but anything that offered a better chance at revenge against the Ace of Spades was worthy of his efforts. He'd spoken to only one person on the road to this point, only to inquire as to the location of the Sylvoli Quarter of the city. The weathered, elderly farmer, fresh back from peddling his crop in the city's market square had stared at the blue-clad, sword-wielding warrior with a caution built by careful years.

"I'm a simple man, youngster, but I'm no fool. Few of us good folk chose to deal with Sylvoli elves, swindling gypsies that they are." He'd said after pulling his oxen team and the ramshackle cart he drove to a stop. "But the blade you carry has their holy sigils all over the hilt. I suppose you've some great business with them."

"That could be said..." Ran replied non-commitally, wanting to keep his reasons private.

"Well, my friend, you are in luck. As I left the gates, I saw Gemma selling her fortunes. That old soothsayer is something of a diplomat to them; if you want into their part of the city, she alone can insure you get there and leave safely. But I'd be careful. They do not tolerate wanton violence in their holding, especially since the Fesitval of the Rogue One has begun. Go to Gemma and mind your manners and you should come through fine."

"Thank you, sir." Ran responded, tipping his straw hat as he went about his way.

The gates loomed high overhead, the parapet bristling with armored members of the Imperial Army, the road jostling with pedestrians. The swordsman moved quickly through the gates, his calculating gaze searching out the fortuneteller. A modest table, constructed of shipping crates covered in a moth-eaten black blanket with a crystal ball seemed the only logical spot to find his quarry. But the woman behind the table was not the ancient crone he'd expected from the farmer's description. Her long auburn hair showed no sign of grey, her bronze skin without a wrinkle. Wrapped in a form-fitting wrap of gilded gray cotton, she appeared no older than 20, younger even than Ran himself. Only the pointed and pierced tips of her ears even marked her as a elf. She spotted him as he approached, beckoning with a hurrying wave.

"I've dreamt of you, Four Stances. What brings you to our city. your blade reeking of fresh blood?"


To be continued...