Twisted. [Private, training thread.]

[Arthur PendragonCitizen]

Duck, spin, low kick into a palm strike to the jaw. Lean away, lunge, shoulder tackle into a hip-toss, stomp down, push away, stop. Breathe.

He's been fighting for a long time now, sapphire eyes finding the forms of the seemingly endless forces the Jaws of Grima have, that have amassed against the City blessed by the Stars. He's dingy, clothes nothing but tatters, leather straps of his armor have long since been destroyed and discarded out of necessity, his blades have shattered and he's become reliant on simple bare-handed techniques in order to put down the Grima Acolytes, who praise Death like they do the spirit of Life.
His eyes narrow, he's traveled far into the Shadow Country, and no matter how many camps he destroys, they never seem to end...The forces, the enemies, the loyalists never seem to fall off..
But he's never encountered this much resistance before, than right now at the foot of this strange temple, where sigils of the old Spirits are prominent. These have piqued his curiosity and the force that is currently amassed against him, gives him all the confirmation he needs that he needs to get inside of this temple.

So, a simple blade is created, and with a slow breath exhaled from his split lip, he dashes forward, silver flashing through the air and through bodies like a streak of light. The Prince vanishing from the eyes of the amassed Jounin force, and as he cuts through the first two the group hears the beginning of what will be their death knell.

"I am the Bone of my Sword."

He's being foolish, brash and reckless, the Elder's always criticize him for being such. He should go back to Haven, re-arm himself, rest and recuperate from his exhaustion, from all of his injuries and allow himself to actually mourn the death of his Cousin and Fiance.
But he can't bring himself to rest, not when they were bled like cattle, not when he's witnessed the tears of a young Shinobi and the misery of a Good Soul, not when he's been betrayed by someone in the Queen's very court.
No, take action is all he could ever do after witnessing all of that, he's the First of the Last Son's of Avalon, and he will not be idle while the people he's sworn to protect suffer needlessly.
This includes the Shinobi, the People and all of the Court, he is a Pendragon, and he does not distinguish from differences in ideals. What matters, is if the people in front of his eyes need to be saved.

The flames fade away, and he gasps harshly, dropping to his knee and onto his palms, cracked steel grasped tightly between his fingers, he grits his teeth and attempts to steady his breath.
Corpses drop, surrounding him as pieces of these Shinobi fall apart around him, he's covered in sanguine, golden hair almost stained by it, pale flawless skin colored by grime, blood and dirt as he breathes out deeply, chest heaving in exhaustion before he slowly raises to his feet, and his eyes, darkened by anguish and exhaustion finding the entrance to this strange Temple-like structure.
High, high above the ground, crumbled staircase laying at the bottom...
He grimaces softly and he steps forward, pained legs tensing before he bends his knees and leaps up to the very top of the staircase, stepping forward...And entering the courtyard past this simple stone entrance.

"I am the bone of my sword.."

He intones, but it's not an aria, it's a simple mantra, he's tired, he's so tired..But he has to keep going, just a little bit more, just one more area to explore and then he can stop, go home and take a rest, maybe finally seek out Denkiteki, his old comrade, who once helped him repel a great force at the gates of Tengakure, where he once resided on loan from the previous Kazekage as a sign of trust.

"Steel is my Body and Fire is my Blood.."

The basic aria, the one that Pendragon use before they can truly create one of their own, one used by the Original creator of the Pendragon's most powerful technique. He's using it to keep his mind sharp, sharp eyes flicking from side to side now, staring deeply into shadows, which he could have sworn writhed as he passed them. His shoulders are tense, a chill running up his spine as he crosses the threshold of this Old Temple. Something...Something isn't right here, it's as if his very soul was frozen over as soon as he stepped inside..
A twig snaps, he leaps backwards and rolls away over his shoulder as a claw swipes out at him, his gaze raises and his eyes widen at the sight that meets him.
Two large, gray-furred, bipedaled Wolf-creatures, with long gangly limbs and long snouts, blazing green eyes, gnarled snout filled with jagged razor sharp fangs.
A loud cry erupts from the pairs throat, some sort of twisted combination of a pained horror-filled scream and a howl of savage blood-lust. And as one, they lunge forward towards the Prince.

They do not expect him to meet them mid-lunge, blades lash out like the winds that bolster his speed, and are as deadly as the lightning that courses through his muscles. He roars himself, defiantly cutting through his fear with a battle-cry, as fire fills his veins and adrenaline courses through him to carry him through the battles ahead.
He knows now, he can see why they wanted to keep him away, and now he must continue on, creatures like these could very quickly shift the favor of the skirmishes they've been in. Because his blades bounce off their fur, he drew blood, but their hides prevented him from getting any deeper.
Wind propels him to the side, spinning away before he flips over and lands onto his feet, skidding to a stop as he squares off again, eyes narrowing into blue slits as he focuses on the pair of...Wolves..? One actually rubs at the wound on his side, before they both begin to stalk forward, long limbs finding the floor as they begin to stalk him on all fours.

"You don't belong in this world..."

He mutters to the pair, almost dazedly, before he rushes for them once more, opens opening as he keeps them both in his field of vision, blades dropping from the sky and bouncing off of their hides, but it does visibly concuss them, causing his eyes to flash, before he cuts a deep circle in the grass as he circles the first one while the other is distracted, and he suddenly lashes out with a harsh straight punch to the snout of the beast, a fountain of blood follows along with a loud crunching noise, the beast howls in agony and lashes out as it stumbles backwards, and Arthur leaps back as well, clenching his broken hand tightly as he clenches one eye shut.
He ducks a slash and steps away from the snapping of a maw aimed at his throat, and the blade in his grasp, flickers, before it thickens and turns into what can only be described as a pipe, which he swings upwards, smashing the extended arm of the beast, which howls and lashes out with it's other arm, before Arthur spins away and shoots like a silver and gold streak towards the other Beast, which blinks it's eyes open just as the Prince descends with a roar of exertion.
A loud, meaty, wet cracking noise fills the area, as a beast drops, Arthur's face and his hand now covered in blood as he guards it close to himself and spins to face the second creature..
Which lands on top of him as it completes it's lunge, Arthur's blade is knocked aside as dagger like claws dig into his shoulders, essentially disabling his arm, before his other hand catches the beasts throat before it can bare down upon him with those fangs and end his line for good, Arthur's face turns red with exertion as his eyes narrow, and his muscles tighten the beast snapping and snarlig at him, blood filled drool dripping onto his cheeks causing him to flinch before the beast stills and howls with agony, going limp as it loses all manner of control and feeling in it's body.

Arthur grunts and pushes the beast off of him, the Beast almost twice his height, as it whimpers helplessly, a disgusting, heart-wrenching sound, crossed with a childs sobbing and the whimpers of a wounded animal. Arthur swallows bile, before he finds the handle of the blade he constructed above the creature..Which shattered it's spine with the force of it's drop..
Arthur put's the creature out of it's misery,.
Resting against a stone wall, near what appears to be an entrance into the inside of the Temple, he resets the bones of his hand, and wraps it with a few bandages he had enough of a mind to grab. Along with the wounds in his shoulders...He hasn't even stepped inside the Temple yet, the thought causes a laugh to bubble up from his throat and his head to duck in amusement...Before his eyes narrow at the sight of his shadow...which seems to be getting bigg-
He's moving before he even finishes his thought, rolling away and spinning with a blade in his hand, just as he hears the large thud from the creature that almost dropped on top of him.

Gangrenous decayed skin, gnarled pointed limbs which curl in like the legs of an arachnid, but it's not an arachnid...No, this creature takes the shape of a large, severed hand..Complete with a bloody stump and cracked white bone fragments piercing through strings of muscle.
Arthur is upon it before it can even stand fully, luckily this creature isn't nearly as durable, and he cleaves the creature into pieces..The stench has bile rising up from the back of his throat, but he clenches his teeth..And steps away.
He decides it's best to not stay idle after that, and to keep his eyes peeled on all things around him..
He climbs the short set of steps, and grasps the knob of the wooden door...Which he slowly pushes open, revealing a simple gray cobble-stone hallway...Lit by torches on each side. His eyes roam over the seemingly simple layout of the hallway, but after what he's encountered outside..He's not taking any chances, his eyes narrowing as he catches the sight of what appears to be a few wires along the walls..
And yes, a loop of wire on the floor connected to a tripwire..
He sighs, and steps forward cautiously, stepping around the wires..which..Seem a little strange to him, a clacking noise as his eyes shooting upwards, and his blade soon follows up and over his shoulder as he pushes himself forward swiftly, the tip of his blade finding the tiny head of the absolutely Gigantic Spider that nearly dropped onto his head, eyes widening slightly from the sight of the venom soaked fangs of the beast..which curls up on itself and dies from the split in it's skull...

...What else could possibly be here to find him? What manner of hellish place did he stumble onto, what just what do these Grima Acolytes hope to accomplish from trying to employ them? And why..Is he beginning to see the Symbols of the Pendragon along the pathways. He knows of settlements far away, and followers of the Old Gods, but he's never heard of Old Temples like these in the Elemental Countries! Back in Avalon, there Homeland, that's where he'd find them not...
Not here, this is wrong, something about all of this feels wrong, like this place simply should not be. Like some dark force drew him in, to eat him away from the inside out...
Perhaps, no, he needs more information on these Shinobi who are seemingly worshiping the Deities of his Homeland, and the Darkest one at that...
Arthur's gaze finds the next door..And he releases a harsh breath, visibly steeling himself, before he squares his shoulders and begins stepping towards the next room...

And he delved deeper into Madness.

[2,035 WC, claiming 10 stats.]

[Akihana AkariCitizen]

Approved <3