Im the times were kings and assasins prevailed, there was a story of a man who was born into a life of taking. He fought in a war where he was betrayed by his lord and master who forfeited to the enemy under harsh and horrible terms.
Their crusade has ended after growing from a small revolution to a war that will never end. The monarch has true power now, with him uniting the country under one banner. There was no one left, but a vegabond fool who wanders the life he is left to rot with. Quick with the tongue, he would be named the Wanderin Ronin.
He would have no loyalties, no bonds or no testastement on his name for he has given his life to a cause now forgotten. Lost by weak men who value their lives more than the freedom they claim to represent.
The tavern door swings as the master of the water style school of the flow. Each of the 3 masters wearing their signature colours. Green for the mastery conserving living nature, Blue for the excelence in mind and inner manipulation, Red for the ultimate techniques the schools style.
Each master equal in both skill and abilities that could counter each other for days. "Yeah yeah enough with the formalities im trying to drink and remember the good times will ya piss someone else off?" You should show respect sir "the mangy bar drunk explained".
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
"I bet you i can get those masters heads of yours off their necks by the time you figure out who i am". And as he ends his sentence he vanishes and appears in the middle of the masters. Unfazed by the fanatics sudden appearance, the masters ready their weapons.
"So you think, you are masters huh. I always thought masters would have higher pride in themselves than hide behind a title."
"Hope you had your last shits for the day, it'd be sad if you shit on your nice dress."
And like that a flurry of metal clash in the air, the masters slowly get overwhelmed by the attacks of the stranger. "Hey drunk, you remember who i am yet? Im the most famous of all"
Metal flurrys, the masters try to encircle the stranger in a coordinated tactic.
"Ahh! Ahh! I know you, youre the wanderer. The mad dog ripper. You are...we are... gonna die....!"
"No old man, i only came for 3 heads, and these 3 arent even masters." I already have their heads off their necks while we were speaking. But the 3 heads im looking for, are the bandit brothers worthy of my challenge"
The 3 brothers eating quietly realised theyve been found and evaporate away from their seats.
"They always run"
As he vanishes infront of the bar.
"Were alive, we...he... we need to call the local militia!" The bar keep shouts!