<div dir="ltr"><div>Here's something that will be of interest to Ryuo fans, and anyone curious how Toby got his injuries in part 28 of the Winter Assault.</div><div> </div><div>A few weeks ago, while looking through the TSA archives for the original WA posts, I found an email from Tatsushu about a story piece that had been left out from the Winter Assault.</div><div> <pre>> (My apologies, I miscommunicated with Chris and thought that he had > received this piece, but it missed the first run, unfortunately. It fits > in towards the end of 88, and at the break where Walking Death is reaching > into the spirit world; before Toby and Jonathan meet up at the ruins of > the Deaf Mule)</pre> (<a href="http://lists.integral.org/private/tsa-talk/2002-January/056718.html">http://lists.integral.org/private/tsa-talk/2002-January/056718.html</a>)</div><div> </div><div>It was oddly short at only 2 paragraphs, so I did another search, and found the missing pieces in the June 2004 "no subject" dump. (<a href="http://lists.integral.org/private/tsa-talk/2004-June/056719.html">http://lists.integral.org/private/tsa-talk/2004-June/056719.html</a>) (<a href="http://lists.integral.org/private/tsa-talk/2004-June/056720.html">http://lists.integral.org/private/tsa-talk/2004-June/056720.html</a>) Together, these scenes add 4548 words to Winter Assault, and finish off the subplot of Walking Death and the demon he summons.</div><div> </div><div>The first line of each June 2004 piece got eaten by the archive, but that doesn't detract from the action-packed scene. I suspect many people, especially our newest readers, aren't even aware of this section's existence. Nearly 20 years later, with a little editing (if you're there, Tatsushu, would you be able to fill in the missing blanks?) I think this is due to be reincluded in the Winter Assault.</div><div> </div><div>And now, for your enjoyment: </div><div> </div><div>----</div><div> </div><div>Ryuo backed away as the Lutins surged toward him, his polearm deftly weaving back and forth, keeping the Lutins at bay and occasionally striking out through an opening in the wall of blades they presented to sink into tough, green flesh. Behind the warriors, Ryuo had glimpsed an older Lutin with a large wolf or dog by his side, but his attention was not focused on them at the moment. Backing out into the inn's back yard, Ryuo tried to prevent the Lutins from surrounding him, keeping them just below the ice-laden eves. As the Lutins surged forward once more, Ryuo spared a brief glance up above them to the roof. Looking down on the scene from above, Toby held to the roof with one hand, digging it into a crack, while he used the other to sweep out with his spear. The newly fallen snow gave way, sliding from the slanted roof in a huge, white sheet of ice. The Lutins below barely had time to look up before they were crushed under its weight. [...] the now blocked rear entrance as Ryuo finished off those Lutins lucky enough to escape the miniature avalanche. Toby, from his perch on the roof, listened as Lutins ran downstairs to see what had happened. When he could hear no more footsteps upstairs, he smashed in the window, swinging up and into the second story. As he had expected, only the archers were left and he dispatched them with ease. He then picked up one, small bow and fitted it with an arrow which he tied a white piece of bed sheet to, firing it out into the street. After signaling the others, he dropped the bow and picked up his sword to await the Lutins who would inevitably be coming for him. Outside, Ryuo was waiting as well. Slowly, the Lutins were digging themselves out with their spears. They had managed to make a hole large enough for one Lutin to get through, but had quickly seen that such a tactic wasn't going to be very fruitful. While others worked, most of the Lutins aimed their spears through the hole, in case the metal shrouded demon should try to interfere. Then, without warning, the digging stopped. Ryuo cautiously took two steps back, and as he did so he heard a scream, which quickly died to a wet gurgle. A rumbling roar seemed to shake the house, and as Ryuo held his stance, the wall of snow before the inn door flew outward, scattering ice and bodies across the yard. Ryuo threw up an arm to shield his eyes, and when the miniature blizzard had subsided he found himself facing a creature from the realm of nightmares. Steam rolled off of the armoured body as the demonic beast stepped forward. Its feet were like those of a bear, each one sporting four sharp, wicked claws. A whip-like tail thrashed violently behind it, as though eager to find soft flesh for its bulbous, barbed needle. Four overly-muscled arms sported an array of sharp spines, and was covered like the torso in a thick, lizard-like skin that was as black as a cast-iron pot. Two skeletal wings unfurled as it stepped forth from the cramped doorway, reaching out as though to take to the sky. Yet its orange, glowing stare never wavered as it glared out from deep-socketed eyes. Above the glowing eyes, two horns spiralled up from the head, which seemed like a terrific, emaciated skull. Sharp, horrifying teeth--as long and as sharp as knives--sat in powerful, square jaws that seemed almost completely devoid of flesh outside the black tendons that held it to the rest of the demon's head. A forked tongue snaked forth as it let loose a sibilant challenge to the eastern warrior. Ryuo returned the challenge with silent, grim determination as he levelled his glaive into position. Together, the two stood for the briefest of moments, each considering the other, and then it began. Ryuo's glaive whirled as the beast attacked; he parried and dodged blows while looking for an opening to attack. Ryuo's mind could barely track all of the possible intentions of attack the creature made, and several times the barbed tail grazed his wide shoulder-plates. The monster seemed a flurry of sharp points, and it was all Ryuo could do to hold up under the onslaught. Finally, Ryuo saw his opening, and he swung just as all five appendages paused in their return swings. Metal slashed across the demon's chest, but it did not penetrate. Instead, the glaive only glided across the thick skin, sounding as though it had been pulled across rough stone. Cursing, Ryuo stepped to the side as the tail whipped around, sending him once more on the defensive. While the glaive clashed with the armoured limbs, Ryuo searched for some other sign of weakness in the nightmare he fought, but the attacks came too quick and too strong. Ryuo continued to parry and dodge, trying to keep the beast to one side, and taking two of its arms effectively out of the battle. However, this was a delaying tactic at best, as the two travelled through the snow-covered courtyard in a deadly circle of flesh and steel. Despite his use of the glaive, Ryuo quickly came to realize that the beast before him had too much of an advantage in the spacious yard. Quickly, Ryuo switched tactics, manoeuvring himself instead into one of the numerous alleyways. A dark chuckle escaped the skull-like face as Ryuo retreated, for the creature believed his actions were taken out of fear. With a homicidal single-mindedness of purpose, the hulking creature followed Ryuo into the narrow space. As soon as the creature entered the tight space between the buildings, Ryuo could see he had been right. Drawing a little farther back, Ryuo took the offensive, aiming for the joints and the softer flesh under the limbs. Ryuo deflected the lower left arm up and into the air, and the lack of space caused it to entangle the upper arm for a brief, vital second. With the left leg now exposed, Ryuo delivered a powerful downward swing. The demon howled in pain as the sharp metal finally bit into flesh, and grey ichor flowed from the wound. The flesh was strong, however, and the glaive only nipped a shallow wound. In rage at the impudence of this thing before it, the demon tried to retaliate, swing across with a quick backhand that Ryuo barely ducked. The warrior then pushed the upper right arm down and to the side, opening what seemed to be a small, tender area near the shoulder joint. Ryuo slashed into it with the glaive, and once more, the malefic fiend howled in acrimonious umbrage at the insolent mosquito that would dare harm it. Air swept past Ryuo as he again ducked the mighty hand that flew out at him. However, following closely behind were the two lower appendages, punching out simultaneously. Ryuo tried to dodge, but he could not avoid them both. Bracing himself, he took one raking set of claws against his armoured chest, but the blow sent him reeling back. Looking for purchase in the snow, he found none and fell backwards, slipping on a hidden patch of ice. Fierce eyes glowed as the demon struck down, and Ryuo raised his glaive to press back at the creature, hoping to keep the creature at a distance. The tip caught the midnight monstrosity in the upper left shoulder, plunging its metal head into the creature with a sickening crunch, as his demonic assailant impaled itself. Yet the glaive hardly slowed the beast down as another huge fist caught Ryuo across his banded body armour. Supernatural knuckles contacted with lacquered metal, which dented under the impact. Only the padding of silk braid and the glaive's intercession saved the fox from certain death. As it was, Ryuo could taste blood the blood that leapt to his mouth, forced up from some internal injury caused by the tremendous blow. Raising up a hand to its shoulder, the diabolic spirit broke the polearm with a massive, clawed hand, snapping it like a toothpick. It then roared in pain and anger, arms flailing out to the side and smashing into the wooden walls of the nearby buildings. Ryuo seized the moment of its blind rage, quickly backing off and rising once more. Standing, Ryuo drew both swords and faced the creatures once more. Pain stabbed like a nail into his side, but he pushed it off into the corner of his mind. Survival came first. As the demon roared out another challenge, Ryuo could see it weakening. The head of the glaive remained jammed into the creature's shoulder, and that arm hung limp on the beast. Having disabled two appendages, Ryuo knew he had won a great advantage. Still, the close range his swords would require meant the oriental warrior would be forced to step further into the giant's reach. Taking the offensive, Ryuo leapt into battle like a wounded wolverine, swords striking continuous blows at the black bladed arms. As metal contacted the demonic arm spikes, sparks glittered in the darkness of the alleyway, showing bright against the dark flesh. The beast could not, limb for limb, match the speed of Ryuo's weapons, but neither could the inari safely approach with the third limb still mobile. Arms and blades were a blur in the cold winter air, as each combatant looked for a moment of weakness in their opponent's defence. Despite his skill, Ryuo found himself beginning to tire. He knew he couldn't keep this up forever; the deep snow pulled at his legs, and the continuous attacks were taking their toll on his arms. The energy required to keep the pain away was also taxing his reservoir, adding to the total drain on his system. Studying his opponent's attacks while he defended, Ryuo tried to formulate a plan. In a flash he saw his chance. Timing the blow just right, Ryuo dropped to his knees as the upper right arm went sailing overhead. Stabbing upwards, he sliced into the soft flesh of the leather-skinned abomination's underarm, severing muscles and cutting into bone. The near-severed arm fell limp, and Ryuo was forced to throw himself back as it dropped like a black, fleshy pendulum. Rolling back, Ryuo lost his grip on the short sword, which remained lodged in the creature's armpit. As Ryuo stood he could do nothing to block the wild arm that swung out towards him. The impact lifted him from his feet, sending him sailing through the air. He probably would have been knocked unconscious had the conditions been any different. As it was, Ryuo landed in a deep drift of snow that broke and cushioned his fall. It was not enough to totally save him from injury, however, and Ryuo once felt the familiar, coppery taste of blood on his tongue. [...] rushed towards him once more. Again he steeled his mind against the pain. 'There is no time to bleed,' he realized, and rolled off to the side as two hands ploughed into the snow bank he had just vacated. Rising to his feet, he cut a grazing shot at the beast's legs, followed by a lateral slash aimed to cut into the creature's thick stomach plates. It felt like cutting through thick, hardened plates of leather, absorbing the force of the blow. As the metal pulled through the flesh, cutting with an edge that would put some razors to shame, Ryuo felt it grind across the ribcage. The vibrations jarred through his arms as he put all of his strength into it, but the bones could have been made out of iron for all the good it did him. As he finished the stroke, Ryuo backed away from the creature to consider what to do next. Apparently thinking the same thing, the huge creature did likewise, having gained some sense of caution after the multiple lacerations it had already received. Its eyes hardened, never moving from Ryuo as it reached up and finally pulled the head of the glaive out and tossed it to the ground. Unsure of what to do next, both combatants just stood there in the silence of the battle that was raging in the nearby inn. The sound of his fellow warriors braced in their own mortal struggle lent strength to Ryuo's own battle. For all he knew they were facing a similar beast. Seizing hold of the hurt, and gathering his energy about him, the fox focused his life, training, pain, and experience into the meter of steel he held in his hands. Raising it high, he let out a fierce yell and then cut the air with two sharp, blinding sweeps. Orange eyes watched the fox in confusion, which widened into astonishment as it glimpsed the blade sweeping through the air. Without thought it brought two massive arms up to shield itself from the force of the distant blow, which pushed it several feet back into the snow with an unnatural force. Lowering its guard from the sudden attack, it had no time to register the fox slashing in mid-jump before the frozen world shattered into a million pieces. Ryuo landed in a crouch, having pulled the sword down with his own weight, thus splitting the sable skull. Bile and brains poured from the head like yolk from a cracked egg as it fell backwards, a scream caught unformed in its throat. Steam began to spew forth from the gaping wounds as the body fell, and Ryuo had to throw up an arm to shield his face from the sudden heat as the entire corpse was incinerated. Pausing only a moment to catch his breath, Ryuo watched to make sure that there was nothing more forthcoming from the steaming pool of melted snow that had been the raging demon. Satisfied it was no longer a threat, Ryuo picked up his short sword and made his way back around to the rear entrance of the inn. There were no Lutins here, having been diverted to the front of the building, and Ryuo was able to slip in with no problem. Taking in the situation, Ryuo could see the Keepers still battling to get past their initial position in the inn. The patrol had grabbed a foothold just beyond the door, but the Lutins, who had pushed tables and furniture in front of the door to make an artificial bottleneck that the Keepers would have to navigate, had apparently halted them there. One human female was propped up against the front door, obviously wounded, which drew Ryuo's thoughts to his own wounds as he unconsciously felt his dented armour with one hand. He hoped that he could find someone to repair the armour here; of the internal injuries he had no time to feel concerned at the moment. The Lutins were so busy keeping the Metamor patrol pinned down that they didn't see Ryuo until he started laying into them from behind. That certainly got their collective attention. Caught between the Keepers and this iron-faced apparition of death, the Lutins were thrown into confusion, unsure of where to turn. That gave Elcuared and his team the break they needed to move in, taking advantage of the sudden disorganization. Ryuo took down four Lutins as they rushed him, his sword tracing smooth, circular patterns as it cut through glaucous flesh. The elegant metal edge seemed not so much to strike as to flow, as though it were part of a deadly dance. The Lutins, for their part, allowed themselves to be led through the fatal footsteps, seeming to raise or lower their guard in perfect harmony with the expertly timed cuts. The four fell like dominoes, and Ryuo had a moment of peace. The other Lutins had been fully engaged by the rest of the Keepers, and Ryuo could see that none of them were in serious need of help. A cry of pain from behind him caused Ryuo to spin quickly. A second yell guided him to the stairs, and Ryuo rushed upwards as fast as he could manage. Reaching the top of the staircase, Ryuo found the source of the screams. A gnarled Lutin dressed in a loincloth and some sort of skull headdress stood over a limp, bloody form. The huge canine that was his companion was gnawing on one leg, which twitched as Ryuo watched. Seeming to find pleasure in the squirming victim, the moon dog dragged Toby's battered body into the center of the room while the Lutin rummaged through pouches on his feather and bone necklace. "Stop!" Ryuo cried, instinctively, rushing forward despite his own pain. The Lutin looked up in surprise at the charge, his face registering an instant of fear. That emotion quickly fled as Ryuo rebounded from an invisible barrier. The Lutin flashed an evil smile that exposed his yellow and rotting teeth. As Ryuo picked himself painfully off the floor, the giant dog reached down and picked Toby up by the tail. Toby screamed as the moon dog shook the talbot morph like a giant chew toy. As Ryuo watched from the other side of the barrier, Toby went flying off into a corner of the room, his tail still hanging from the moon dog's mouth. Blood dripping from the severed appendage, the evil creature brought the tail to its Lutin master. The old Lutin took the tail and began using its still dripping blood to inscribe something upon the floor. Rage boiled inside Ryuo at this assault on the honour of his friend and companion; bobbing the tail was the most heinous of punishments that could be inflicted in Inari society, as it stripped them of all status and prevented them from ever rising again, as their tails would not grow back. Those to whom this had been done--on purpose or through accident--often took their own lives rather than live with the shame. Those that did not often fled to the other kitsune clans, becoming outcasts and traitors to their own kind. Such dishonour on one undeserving of it required revenge. Once more focusing all of his emotions into his blade as he had learned from his master, Ryuo slashed violently at the invisible wall. A trail of white light seemed to follow the blade as it swept down and across. For a moment the invisible barrier glowed a deep magenta, and then it sundered in a silent shower of magic. Shaman and moon dog looked up in surprise as the ward failed. Neither had suspected that the warrior would be capable of countering their magicks, and it only confirmed the Lutin's previous suspicion of Ryuo's diabolic origins. Echoing his master's thoughts, the moon dog growled, hackles rising, as it interposed itself between the shaman and this spirit of silk, steel, and blood. As the moon dog approached, Ryuo felt a wave of emotion sweep over him. His mind turned to thoughts of his death--grisly and gruesome. Unspeakable horrors ran through his brain, chilling him down to the very core of his being. He saw visions of his honour being stripped from him--of becoming a tailless creature with no home and no purpose. Ryuo knew with absolute certainty that there was nothing he could do, and he could not survive this battle. Yet it was there in that dark well of despair that Ryuo found hope. If he did not survive this battle, his honour would be saved. He would live his life like the bright blooming cherry blossoms--as a true samurai. Accepting his ultimate fate, Ryuo lunged at the moon dog without thought of self-preservation. The startled beast dodged angrily out of the way as it realized its induced fear had not brought its opponent to his knees. Eyes red and bloodshot, it lashed out with two plate-sized paws, attempting to bring down its armoured opponent. Instead of retreating, however, Ryuo matched charge for charge, ramming his shoulder into the dog's protective underside. The malevolent monster squirmed and twisted out of the way of the deadly blade, attempting a parting snap as it twisted out of the way. While the moon dog retreated, Ryuo continued to advance, but was suddenly brought to a halt before the vicious beast by an incredible pain in his chest. Grabbing at his side and chest with one hand, Ryuo fell to one knee. Inside his scarred and dented armour, a giant weight seemed to be pressing itself into his heart, crushing and squeezing the life out of it. Even trying to push the pain aside, Ryuo could do nothing except gasp for breath. Just then a movement caught the tortured vulpine's eye, and an arrow sped out from the corner of the room, piercing the leg of the incanting shaman. Immediately, the magic-worker cried out as he lost his concentration on the deadly spell he had attempted to cast. Ryuo's strength came rushing back just in time as the moon dog attacked. Ryuo's sword was a flash of light as it rose, taking the moon dog's head off at the neck. The bloody head sailed through the air as its body ploughed into the ground, blood coating everything. The head hit the wooden planks behind Ryuo with a soft, wet thud, rolling with sickening slurps to the top of the stairs. There it paused briefly to turn its glazed, lifeless eyes back with uncomprehending disbelief to the still-living occupants of the room. Then, lolling backwards, it finally rolled off the edge and down the stairs like a soggy, ripe melon. The old shaman seemed physically struck by the moon dog's death, falling to his knees as the power of the severed bond overwhelmed him. All thoughts fled from his heart, leaving his eyes grey and empty. Beneath the vacuous stare, the old Lutin's mouth hung open in a mute cry of cry of bereft pain. Ryuo walked cautiously over to the now docile creature. As it kneeled, gaze focused on the fateful staircase that had brought his death, Ryuo took a step behind the ancient Lutin, raising his sword high. With a determined finality, the blade cut down through the scrawny neck, dealing the broken shaman the merciful peace of oblivion, though it was more than he deserved. As the body fell, Ryuo wiped the blade clean, returned it to its sheath, and hurried over to wear Toby lay, a Lutin bow in one hand. Tenderly, Ryuo helped the wounded Talbot to stand. Downstairs, the rest of the patrol was gathered around the bloody cranium at the foot of the stairs. Silently, they watched as the fox and hound descended together both awash in blood and gore. Others rushed toward to grab Toby and help him to the door. As he passed through the ranks of men and women, a slow rhythm began, as those around them began to stamp their feet and rattle their weapons. Small at first, it rose to a thunderous roar as the hero of this small battle was carried outside. A smile spread from ear to ear as the talbot lapsed into unconsciousness. Ryuo watched them carry Toby out, assured of his safety. Looking around, he realized that all of the Lutins had been neutralized. A strange, draining sensation began in his limbs, starting as little more than a tingle. As the energy of battle left him, he found none of his own to fall back on. With pain and fatigue rushing in, he began a slow drop to the floor. Faces blurred as they turned and rushed to catch him in a surreal parody of life. And then there was darkness. <HR> Ryuo awoke to the familiar sight of the infirmary and immediately tried to rise. A jabbing pain in his side caused him to lie back down, however. Reaching up a hand, he could feel the bandages that were wrapped around his side, holding broken ribs in place. Turning just his head, Ryuo looked around at all of the others in the infirmary. The suffering was tremendous, with all sorts of grotesque battle wounds, and most of the patients had no better place to lie than the floor. Groaning from outside indicated even more patients awaited treatment outside. A familiar voice caught Ryuo's ears, and he turned his head gently back to see Toby standing beside him. The fox grinned to see the bandage-covered Talbot up and moving again. For his part, Toby was feeling quite well. His right arm and leg were broken--and of course there was the matter of his severed tail--but all in all he was doing well. Looking down at his eastern friend he said, "Well, we made it." The oriental warrior's stare let Toby know that he was not up to deciphering language just yet, but the fox returned the spirit of the comment with a friendly smile. He then lay his head back onto the pillow. As he did so, Toby's gaze swept over the vulpine's body. The bandages covering his broken ribs stood out quite prominently on the furred chest. Toby wondered what had caused the wound, since he didn't remember the Lutin or his pet monster inflicting anything like that during the fight inside the inn; of course, Toby had not been paying that much attention to the details at the time. Still, Toby doubted that a Lutin could have caused it; he had seen the fox in battle and doubted Ryuo could do so poorly against the ill-trained Lutins. Other than the ribs, there were no obvious external injuries other than bruising and swelling. Most of it appeared to be internal injuries and extreme fatigue. Whatever he had done with his sword to cut through the Lutin's spell, it seemed to have drained him physically. Still, he should recover quickly with good treatment--maybe sooner if they thought he would be vital to operation elsewhere. Toby had little doubt that the fox would be a great asset as the Keepers continued to push the enemy back, but magic for healing was limited, and so many tough decisions were being made. Continuing with his inspection, Toby realized that it was the first time he had really seen the fox's body. He had, of course, seen him walking about in his long, voluminous eastern clothes, but they seemed to hide all but face in their immensity of space, and in his armour one could see even less. Here, laid out on the table with just a loincloth and bandages for modesty, Toby saw the fox's curious body. Looking him over, Toby did a sudden double take. He blinked his eyes and rubbed them with his good hand, but it didn't change the sight of the two, bushy tails that he could clearly see beneath the fox. He thought back, but could not ever imagine seeing the fox with any tails at all. They must have been hidden in the skirt-like trousers that the fox always wore, he figured. Toby shrugged off his morbid curiosity, figuring that it was probably something to do with the Curse and the magic of the Keep. In truth, Toby cared little what the fox looked like--he'd be proud to call him a friend.</div></div>