When The Devil Comes to Play (Mission)

Mission Details:

Ken almost wondered if it was some kind of cruel joke that he was constantly approached about jobs that involved guarding caravans, as though someone had heard of his background and decided that that was all he was good for. He didn’t mind the work of course, it paid decently and was something he was fairly familiar with, and these days he was far better equipped to deal with the threats that might befall him. He got himself acquainted with the members of the caravan fairly quickly, fairly standard fair. They were merchants, because of course they were, that was generally the kind of caravan that required protection, and there were a few carts that seemed to be pretty well loaded with a small handful of merchants and their families. They seemed nervous about this particular stretch, but Ken assured them there would be no issues. He knew for a fact that it was unlikely they would be attacked during the day, and he had learned to sleep in short bursts to deal with this kind of thing.

He made camp in the forest, his bow at the ready as he scanned to try to find potential ambush points. There were, of course, an excellent selection of places for bandits to set up an ambush, and his sensory wasn’t picking anything up. At least there were no shinobi in thee area from what he could tell. His patrolling came up with traces of bandit camps, and a couple of dead bodies from idiot bandits who had tried to get the jump on some people at stupid times. His blades made quick work of them, and he’d have to tell Okane that he had done an excellent job with the craftsmanship of the blades. He had hoped that the first several bodies would serve as warnings, but these bandits tended to be desperate, and not in a way that he would be able to help them.

When darkness fell and the caravans began to sleep, the true activity began. Just as Ken had suspected, the bandits were waiting for these rich merchants to fall asleep, but they had made a mistake on this night. He had found their main camp, and when they began to stir, he was more than ready. He moved in with his Katana and Wakazashi in hand and began the systematic dismantling of the camp, removing heads and limbs with each strike as his whirlwind of death was unleashed on the unsuspecting bandits. Panic ensued, which was exactly what he was hoping for as he tore the bandits apart until there was only one left. He could smell the man’s fear as he begged for his life. Ken moved to him, soaked with the blood of the man’s former comrades, blades out for effect.

“You are the lucky one, friend...you get to live. Tell the others what you saw here, tell them of the Devil who slaughtered your friends...tell them of The Devil of the Sands.” He nodded, eyes wide and tears streaking down his face. With a flick of his wrist Ken removed the man’s right hand, causing a scream as he tore a piece of his robe and tied off the wound, putting the severed hand into the man’s remaining good one. “Just in case you forget.” With that he disappeared back into the night, doing the same with the other camps he had found throughout the night. The next day there were no such issues, and Ken was able to go back to the village with his head held high, and his normally undyed linens newly dyed red.

{Exit}