The Red Chapter

They all approached him, numbering eight strong and naked steel in their hands, grey cloaks billowing in the wind behind them. Cold dead eyes were staring at him under iron half-helmets. They watched, and they hated. Not that he blamed them; the feeling was mutual. Both sides had been at war for years, Griff had lost kin to them, and they had lost kin to him. 

"I am but a humble Ronin, seeking service. Even if I am who you claimed, the word at the inns is you had promised a safe passage for The Griffin.”  They had, or at least she had, so that Griff could present his claim of peace in person. The raider had accepted this proposal and traveled for three days before reaching the gates where they fell upon him before he had even announced himself.

“I suppose that makes me a liar.” Shina the kinslayer wore a long white shirt and that queer shinobi jacket these people had brought from their lands in the sound. Her blue eyes shined with malice.

Their bearded commander disarmed him, taking away his sword belt and Knightsbane with it. “Eager with your hands there, Greymane.” The dark and red ripples shimmered in the morning light as the brown-haired Northman partially unsheathed the legendary Grimma sword.

“Come to think I’ve never heard of you being with a woman. Rumors even had it you and Kyousuke were doing each other. Apologies if I’m not up to par with that degenerate.”

A gauntleted fist caught him square on the jaw, and the ground rushed to meet him. The Northman kicked him on the ribs then, followed by another kick and then another. He did not feel the fourth blow. "Me and my big mouth." Watching Harold holding his elder brothers' sword as he beat the life out of him somehow hurt more.

“Don’t kill him here,” Shina commanded, and the storm of blows came to a sudden halt.
“Don’t kill him anywhere.” Griff protested. The taste of iron was firm in his mouth.  

He spat blood and broken teeth. “They do not mean to kill me..or they mean to torture me before they do.” Griff was the son of Hagin, the legendary Grima war chief. The first Grima rebellion in Haven had ended in a roar of battle to the city's north. Shinobi forces took their army in the rear, led by Kyousuke Snow and Shina, smashing them against Hibari Hyuuga’s wall. Rikke rallied the forces when all seemed lost and broke through escaping.

Griff’s Rebellion would end with a whimper if he did not find a way to get out of this pickle. No man died from bending the knee, he supposed. His father Hagin had told him as much. A kneeling man shall rise and fight again were a dead man cannot. 

“We don’t even know that’s him.” Someone suggested, “He might be some lowlife that took Knightsbane from a corpse and dyed his hair red. Rikke is dead. Probably The Red Griffin is too if half of what they say about Axwell Florent is true.” Griff remembered the day Axwell Florent had shown up. He had warned Rikke about that man and what they said about him, but Rikke, ever the brave fool, refused to listen. And the werewolf killed Rikke’s stallion with one punch and ripped the young king’s head off his shoulders.

“M’lord over here is hard to fool." Another guard weighted in. "This war chief might be rotting in a ditch somewhere in shadow country with an arrow through his skull.” 

“And what about the sword? The color there is no mistake. This is Knightsbane.” Harold Greymane protested. That idiot tended to state the obvious, it seemed.
“That rusty old thing?" The beaten Grimma finally let out. "I bought it for a good coin to protect me against cutthroats and brigands on the road.” 
“Then you won’t be needing it. There are no cutthroats in Hoshigakure besides you, Griffin.” 

“Is this how justice is done in Hoshigakure? You have no proof of my identity or any crimes I have committed.”

“Oh, of that, I am not sure. “ The brunette interrupted and raised a lotioned pale hand. “Let him pass through. “ The column of men, split in half and a young male made its appearance. He bore no swords nor armor like the rest of them. 

Griffin’s eyes widened upon recognition, and he muttered a curse.
“What do you say Yuuma, is that him?” The wench asked, showing Griff a good look of her set of fine white teeth.

WC:743

News of chaos and tumult taking place at the village gates traveled fast and eventually ended up reaching even Akaboshi. The red haired Jounin, at that time making his rounds through the village streets, had grown rather curious about whatever could be happening that caused that much ruckus. "Probably nothing to worry about, I'm sure our forces have everything under control" the Uzumaki spoke under his breath. However, for the smallest chance something truly was amiss, the redhead assumed better to be safe than sorry and head to the gates and see for himself. And there he went, dressed in his Jounin Flak Jacket.

Not much time had passed when he finally arrived at the village entrance. As he did, the redhead noticed more than a handful of people being present. One didn't exactly need to be an expert to pick up on the rather hostile atmosphere hanging around the group of individuals that had gathered, which was why Akaboshi decided to remain on guard at all times. Vigilant yet confident, the Uzumaki approached them, looking at who all was there, recognizing some familiar faces while others were completely unbeknownst. "Lady Shina, of course I'd find you here", addressing the kunoichi he spent some time with dealing with some rogues not that long ago.

The Uzumaki joined the others, reaching for a pack of cigarettes in one of his side pockets before lighting it up. "So, what do we have here? This one looks like he knows how to take a beating. And that hair, beautiful if I say so myself" he would refer to the red haired individual who seemed to have been on the receiving end so far. Blowing the smoke away Akaboshi would then wait and see how the situation would evolve.

(WC: 295)

There was rarely a time Yuuma took on a duty given by the village. To pretend the business of dealing with the Jaws of Grima was a pleasant one, however, would be to downplay the effect that the bandit group has had on the village of Hoshi. Even though it had never been confirmed, Yuuma had always suspected that it was this very same group that had burned down his village and separated him from his family. In spite of this, Yuuma had never wished them undue harm or unjust punishment. The resolve of such ideals was sourly tested in the hours of time Yuuma spent nearby the appointed waiting area where he was set to meet some of the senior members of the village in order to confirm the identity of one of the bandits he had met along his travel. The Red Griffin. A mixture of uncomfortable feelings tangled with each other in the pit of his stomach, a hand covered in the loose sleeves of his robe resting over his gut as he looked to the ground. “Is this really the right thing to be doing? Should we be humoring the sort that would take from the weak, killing as their needs see fit?” An internal struggle waged in the robe-clad shinobi, a hand touching at his own chin as he struggled with the thought of it all. “No, we should be prepared to offer people an opportunity to improve. If we constantly berate and belittle those that have done wrong, they will have no opportunity to get better. They will only stay as they are because they wouldn’t be accepted no matter how honest their intentions might be.”

A hand would idly rub at his forehead, feeling the scar beneath it and recalling the time he had spent abroad in search of his sister. How he had come home after more than a year of being absent without purpose and the price he had paid for his failure. A price he was still paying to this day. But a price he was still alive in order to pay. Death or exile would have meant Yuuma had too little opportunity to make amends for the decisions of his younger self, and while the Jaws of Grima might do a great deal more harm than simply searching for a lost body, it was not Yuuma’s place to cast judgment on their motives without truly understanding them. Nor would that mean, however, that he was willing to turn a blind eye to their actions.

Torn from his thoughts by a screech of his feathered companion, Archimedes had positioned himself in a nearby tree and utilized his superior senses to keep sentry of the area and await the arrival of the group that was meant to be meeting them. The call was simple enough to alert the shinobi, who would pick up his gaze back to the road and spot the incoming group of knights, as well as the Twisted Devil and Grizzled Knight. A set of names Yuuma had picked out for Shina and Harold who had both left impressions on him; one of them a little more evident than the other. Stepping from his position, Archimedes would join Yuuma as his shoulder as the two of them made to close the distance between the groups. Even from the distance, Yuuma could hear the dull thud of boots on a body as Harold no doubt was correcting some manner of attitude offered to him by the Grima. A few of the knights glanced back at Yuuma as he approached, who offered them a nod as they parted ways for him to pass in order to get a better view of the man.

All at once, the two seemed to recognize each other. The memory of a small village flashed through Yuuma’s mind as he recalled the last time he had seen the man. In his travels, he had run across quite a few Grima who had greeted him with various forms of violence and often were responded to by Yuuma simply running away. This man, however, hadn’t attacked him physically though was certain to offer Yuuma no small amount of words in regard to his once held station as a Hoshigakure shinobi. Him and his small crew that had been staying at an inn in a village some weeks travel to the west of here. Yuuma recalled the memories in an instant, sharing a moment of peace with the bandit group in a small village Inn as neither he nor them had an interest in making trouble in the little town that didn’t have anything to do with their standing conflict. There existed a third party, however, that did not share the same sentiment as he nor the group of Grima gathered in the bar that day.

It wasn’t until Yuuma returned to Hoshigakure that he could identify the group in his mind from that fateful day; a rogue group of shinobi having been swayed by the call of Valen to defect from their posts and to join him before the group scattered into the night. A remnant of a bitter memory made manifest as he watched this third party harass the staff of the small townside inn. The sick feeling of disgust as the group of heavily armed individuals first caused a disruption of business, and then turned their ire on the innkeeper and his family. Yuuma could remember that sensation, feeling a build of anger in knowing there was little he could do alone in the manner. His mind blurred over the details of the transgression of the rogue ninja, preferring to not remember the screaming he could hear coming from the back rooms. That anger had persisted through the day and into the night when Yuuma found himself making his way back to the inn only to find it ablaze in a brilliant fire. The shadowy image of the red-haired man easily pictured against the flames of the building as he watched it burned to the ground, the Innkeeper and his family standing aside and watching their livelihoods go up in a hail of smoke and pained screams from the shinobi who had been trapped inside.

A mixture of guilt and despair washed through Yuuma as he brought his mind back to the situation before him. Yuuma recalled that night with perfect clarity: the cold wind that bit at his face, the intense flames that burned his eyes, and the look on the man’s face as he watched his handiwork. The expression he wore was much different now as Yuuma looked down to Griffin with an almost sad indifference. Pity held marks in his eyes as he could only guess what had happened to bring the redhead to this position here and now. “The Red Griffin,” Yuuma said in greeting and confirmation as he continued to look down at the Grima for a few moments longer before that blue gaze picked up to look at the twisted beast of a woman. “That is him.” Was all he had to offer. Certainly, he felt a pang of guilt for not advocating for a more gentle treatment, but gentle was not something Griffin understood. Or at least, that was what Yuuma believed.


WC- 1,214

“We always seem to meet under the most lovely of circumstances, Akaboshi.” That wretched woman said with that hideous grin as one of her creatures approached. Griff remembered how she smiled as she cut down everyone who crossed her path during the Siege of Haven. More than half a decade ago, years had done little to appease her cruelty, it seemed. 

The creature was smoking and had a stern look, and he and Griff shared the same color of hair, albeit that man’s hair was a duller shade of red and far shorter.  He had also noticed it, but unlike the outlaw, felt the need to state it.

“Sharp as a blade this one.” The former Grima captain let out in response. The world was spinning around him. “As it happens, he is also guilty of having red hair. A wonder you haven’t had the poor man arrested and beaten half to death.”

Griff’s mockery was sort lived, however. Hiroshi of the Griffin Clan had visited alehouses and inns, drinking his fill and then some. His lust for women only surpassed his passion for drinking. That would be his doom, someone from his crew had said jokingly once, and perhaps they were correct.

The stable boy from the Karstead Inn, the roof Griff had fired, was standing in front of him. The Hoshi oathbreakers had come in the dark, down from the capital, looting fields and killing the common folk. They sought shelter in the holdfasts at Karl’s town when The Grimma took up arms against them. Griff and his crew pulled straw against their timber walls of the Inn and burned them all alive. When they opened the door to flee the fire, Griff shot them down with arrows as they came running out.

“That’s him.” Yuuma Fujiwara confirmed at once. “Damn you, boy. I saved you, the innkeeper, his daughter, and all those peasants and their ugly whelps.” But all Griff had received for his service were stares cold and grey and full of judgment. 

“Thank you, my hero,” Shina told Yuuma and pulled a short black steel blade from her pocket. “Now, Griffin, what do I cut off first, your heart or your balls.” Kuni, these were called or something similar. Griff was too angry to pay any mind to the woman’s games. Instead, it was the witness he addressed.

“Stoneface Yuuma. If you were a man, I would kill you for that, but my sword is too fine a steel to besmirch with craven's blood. Aye, the Red Griffin, that’s me. I killed men by the dozens, but this was war. Men die in battle. That is as it should be, as it has always been. ”  An ox was thundering inside Griff’s head; he felt the mud-caked earth softening underneath his boots as he rose.

“Right here,” Griff said with a huff pointing at his heart with rough, callused fingers. “But do it quick. The werewolf is coming.”

“Who is coming? That traitor Florent?” Something was different in Shina's eyes. They did not shine with malice but with something that uncomfortably looked like concern.

“Never call him that. The Wolf King, you have to remember to call him that, or he will hurt you.”

“He is welcome to try, whatever name he goes by.”

“I’ll say no more.” The redhead hissed. Supposed he was to choose between dying at the hands of one deranged lunatic over another. He would instead not choose at all.

“Funny.” She spun the blade around. “The leader of a bunch of lowlifes we delivered justice to the other day sang the same song. He painted his face white and called himself Bonehead.”

“I believe it was the Skull man, my lady.” Harold, the oaf, interrupted his shoulders, tensing underneath boiled leather and chain mail. “Was it now?” Shina touched her thin lips with her free hand before shrugging. “Maybe it was. I don’t recall.” Hiroshi did, however. Skullman had fled the Grimma ranks the day that monster took over.

“Harold is a sentimental man and shows more empathy for the criminals we are bout to execute. Apologies if I can’t do you the same courtesy, my Rogue Prince. Now I’m going to ask again, and you will either roll that tongue or lose it. Is Florent coming for you?”

And Hiroshi nodded. “Aye, grotesquely huge, with fearsome strength. The Wolfman killed my brother Rikke, my last brother. He was twisting the White Griffin's head until he tore it from his shoulders. Promised to do the same with me." So long as King Hagin's son lived, Florent's reign as King of Grimma would never be without resistance.

What happened next, Griff could not say. He remembered seeing the guards opening the oaken door twenty feet tall and banded with bronze. And then the blunt end of an ax hit him in the back of the head.

WC:805
(EXIT into Hoshigakure)

"The pleasure is all mine, Lady Shina" the Uzumaki would voice while taking a closer look at what they were dealing with. "Almost. We did spend some time together in a cell, so I'll leave it up to your interpretation". Akaboshi finished his cigarette, flicking what was left of the smoking stick at the rogue to hit the Griffin's chest. With a mouth like that it hardly surprised the Jounin how this intriguing individual got himself into trouble over and over again. And for some reason, this one seemed to have quite a bit of history with Shina as well, just like the other rogue from a while ago, Skull Man or what's his name.

And then, similar to one of those crime scenes, a voice suddenly called out, claiming the redhead all beaten up was indeed known as The Red Griffin. A young man identified him as such, and from what he could make out of their conversation, at least if it could still be called one, these two went way back as well. It even came to the point where Akaboshi almost started to feel like being the only one left out. Yuuma, as the boy was called by the Griffin, seemed to have had a not so pleasant experience in the presence of the rogue.

The conversation shifted and a sudden change in atmosphere appeared to happen, similar to what took place during the interrogation of Skulled Man. And it looked like both were caused by the mentioning of the same name and man, Axwell Florent. Akaboshi continued to listen attentively, paying close attention to everything being said in order to absorb as much information as possible, hoping it could prove useful and important in the future. Names were brought up, victims of the so called Wolf King. His next target, The Red Griffin. 

Once the rogue got knocked out cold, his life spared for now, the Uzumaki wondered what could possibly be coming for them soon. "This is the second time Florent has been brought up, it looks like we'll have to deal with him sooner or later lest we want a third time to happen". Assuming someone else said something on the matter Akaboshi would then watch as Griff was dragged inside the village.

(WC: 379, TWC: 674)

[EXIT]

TWC 1548
Claims for Griff with 25% discount
Sage of the Purest Path [1500/1500]
Discarding the rest 48 words

Approved

(Exit)

(TWC: 674)
Claims:
- 674 towards mastering Chakra Chains (using max stat discount, 693 previously trained here)

Approved

Yuuma would watch as the man was taken into custody, spitting and yowling as he curded Yuuma for the part he had played. Watching him be virtually dragged through the city gates was an almost surreal display of justice that left the young Genin standing with no one but for his owl that perched atop one of his shoulders. For a long moment, there was very little Yuuma could say instead choose to put his vision on his traveling companion. Archimedes, likewise, seemed to have little remark for the matter. With a shrug, Yuuma would put his feet to the trail leading them back into the city.

[Exit]

WC - 107
TWC - 1,321

Claims:

Yuuma:

Archemides: