I spent some time running through various exercises trying to understand the rather incredible capacities of my new form. At one point I was balanced on one finger while performing a modified bicycle motion. All the while my other arm was going through checking motions for places I planned to secure various weapons. Then I flawlessly switched arms, without missing a beat. Perfectly Balanced indeed.

Also I noticed that my perceptions of time where shifting. Unless I focused on it the TV seemed to playing at a tenth is normal speed. I thought something was wrong with it at first, until I remembered.

In all the old stories, even many of the modern ones, Elven brains and reflexes just worked faster. Be they Alfar, or Sidhe, or the Servants of the Holly King, even the Space Pirates of Elder Empires, they were built for speed. This combined with an extended lifespan, made for some cruel senses of humor. Mind you they were, in the majority of tales, stronger and far more comfortable with magic as well.

Then you add low light vision, magic sight and enhanced hearing. Then a connection both to Nature and the realms of the Fae.

They were majorly nerfed in the name of game balance for RPGs. Which the Guide didn't seem to subscribe to.

+1 Dex my ass!

I seemed to be slowly growing into the full strength of my abilities. Adjustment grace period I suppose.

It was shifting from Dusk to full night outside, my eyes didn't need me to turn on any lights. Cat Eyes, check. I started hearing sounds around the front and backyards, slow measured soft footstep. Surrounded. Again. This had become so annoying. Maybe I should have moved, or set up some security, or both.

No use crying over spilt milk. Blood in this case, I was sure that's where this was going.

I flipped back to my feet and walked into the kitchen, looking out the Sliding Glass Doors into the back yard. Dark figures crawling over the nine foot privacy fence. It was hard to keep my eyes on them, but they couldn't trick my ears, or my nose.

Human smelled surprising similar to bacon, these whoever they were, also smelt smoky and spicy. Like chili peppers you dry in the oven for later use. I filed that under the do not ponder too much tab.

I was still in the beige scrubs that SEPT put me in, eh they were comfy. Not much of a help in the current situation. I thought about going for my guns. Still I held off, too much noise. Still wanted some range time before I had to rely on them anyway.

Plus part of wanted to crush them with my bare hands. It was a feral desire, an edge of rage to it.

So I went to meet them.

As I finished closing the glass door behind me, turning to confront the intruders, things went pear shaped real quick.

Two chains whipped out lightning fast and wrapped my arms. My reactions had me grab the chains length, and lower my center of gravity while pulling. I was reeling them in.

A dark figure darted forward and stabbed me in the gut. My skin resisted and they only got a couple of inches toward my spleen, or was it my pancreas, I always get the location of those two confused. Then my abs clenched locking the blade in place. The pain was slight, distant, unimportant.

I couldn't help the thought that I should have gotten a berserker class.

I got my first good look at this guy. Black form fitting outfit, check. Face covering showing just the eyes, check. Short straight bladed version of a katana, check. I'd bet the chains on my arm were Manriki Gusari, check.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

What the actual Fuck?

"Nin-Juh!" I exclaimed. (AN: Props if you get this. That game was fun.)

I tried to crack the left chain like a whip, and I won out. The ninja lost his footing, and I catapulted them towards my right, twisting my torso. The chain wrapped round the ninjato punk's neck, both ending up hopelessly tangled. I leapt on them smushing them with my oversized feet and ever increasing weight. I gave a couple of extra stomps to make sure. You never know.

I felt a bunch of small objects pelt me, but nothing seemed to happen. Darts with poison maybe, shuriken probably. Eh, ineffective.

My adrenaline, if I even had it anymore, wasn't even interested. I felt a sense of disappointment.

The chain slipped off my left arm, and I quickly spun around grabbing the remaining chain and yanked. The ninja flew at me and I snatch them up with my left hand. I had them by the head and neck, and squeezed pulping everything under my hand.

Ugh, I taking a shower after this.

I removed the chain from my right arm, taking stock. Ninjato kind of hanging from my stomach, I pulled it out, it looked comically small in my mitt. I threw at some noise I heard to my left, hit nothing except the fence.

So far there had been no real sounds other than squishing and snapping and popping. No talking, no grunting, no yelling, it felt eerie, wrong.

Behind me I heard swishing sounds and as I spun to see what was going on, one of them said, "Something, Something no jutsu."

Now, I had no idea what the first part meant, but I had watched enough anime to know that anything no jutsu ends up being bad for whatever it was aimed at. In this case it was me. Also the Something, something had to do with Fire.

I indeed had adrenaline! Whoo did I.

At the first sparks, I felt a bone deep terror, and I jumped. I must have caught twenty feet of air beneath me, fire roiling under me, a part of my instincts gibbering madly. Okay, I'm deathly afraid of fire. This fucker has moved to the front of my list.

I landed with a huge thump, causing a small crater. I was crouched on all fours and I raced toward the Fire Asshole with a speed that beggared the imagination. They were doing the hand signs.

He got to the first word of his incantation, when I plowed into him like Truck-Kun. I hope in his next incarnation he learns not to play with fire. It's bad for you health.

I stomped him a few times for my mental stability. Assuring my Troll Blood I was not going to be barbequed.

I started to calm down, get a handle on myself, WHEN SUDDENLY my sliding glass doors exploded out into the yard.

Oh yeah, the house had been surrounded.

Two more ninja and I shit you not three Samurai stalk out of my house. They startle when getting a look at me. Crying "Oni something, something." Oni is like Ogre, right? Sort of accurate.

I couldn't blame them. I must look a mess with blood and viscera all over me.

Also, enough was enough. Full attack mode.

I charged at full speed towards their packed group. I body check the ninja aside, knocking them to the ground. Then I used both hands to Clap the middle Samurai in the head. Metal and laminated Bamboo crumpled and crumbled, blood and eyeballs flew over me.

I shifted right and snagged the Samurai there by the front of his armor with my left and gave him a right cross. Snapped his neck, but not before get a draw cut licking my belly. Not deep but it stung far more than anything else tonight.

I'm noticing a pattern here.

My left keeps a grip on the corpse and I put in between me and the last Samurai. He had just finished saying, "Zettai Ougi, something Battou Jutsu." I didn't think that was a good sign either.

A flashing arc, and the bottom of the corpse I was holding fell away. Holy Shit!

And it still managed to graze my gut.

Alright, that's it! I'm getting some fucking armor, with an extra layer on my stomach. Fucking ridiculous.

I threw the remaining piece of his friend at him, stepping into his reach at the same time. As he swung back at me my left hand clamped down on his right holding his katana at bay. Then my right cupped the back of his head and pushed. His resistance didn't matter, I slowly drove his blade through his throat.

Killed by his own sword, pretty sure that was some kind of insult. Couldn't help but feel it was deserved though.

I pulled it out, and shook his crushed hand off it. It was a beautiful sword. The tsuka felt good, my hand covered the whole thing, it was a little too thin though. The blade was roughly the length of my forearm. A decent short sword for me.

I turned around to deal with the remaining ninjas. Finding them both kneeling toward the Samurai. They had slit their own throats.

Dedication. Amazing really. Gotta respect it.

I sigh. What a damned mess.

I used the land line to call SEPT

"Hey Harold, I had some more out of town visitors."