The Ashen Fortress

[Kuzuru]

“I hold no sympathy for trespassers,” Cinder Salt responded. The coyotle warrior held her knife tight against Miranda’s throat. Overhead the sun had reached its apex, bathing the Ashen Steppes in equal measures of heat and light. “Are you with the Empire?” Cinder asked, her voice barely holding back hints of disdain.

“No,” Miranda answered.

“Then who are you?” Cinder demanded, “What do you want?”

The trespasser did not answer. Instead in one swift movement she pulled a hand to her throat and wrapped her claws around Cinder’s knife. With a curtain of sparks Miranda smacked away the coyotle's knife, sending it pinwheeling through the air. Cinder leaped backwards in surprise. Miranda turned to face her aggressor and said, “you’re awfully demanding aren’t you?”

Cinder growled, baring a row of fangs within her muzzle. She leveled her primary weapon towards the trespasser and crouched into a fighting stance. Miranda observed her attacker, the being that stood before her was not human, but was some sort of human/coyote hybrid. Cinder’s tan fur seemed to shimmer in the bright sun. Red bands were stained into her fur and wrapped around her wrists, ankles, and neck. White strips of cloth were wrapped around her chest, covering only her breasts while a white loincloth sat wrapped around her hips.

Without a word she sprung towards Miranda, swinging her massive machete-styled cleaver at the girl. Miranda braced for impact, deflecting the massive hunk of metal with a well-timed swipe. In the same motion she stepped into Cinder Salt and delivered a solid punch to the Coyotle’s gut. The blow reverberated through her body and salt her stumbling backwards. Cinder growled and planted her blade into the ground, bracing her shaking legs. Summoning her indomitable will she stood up straight and shouted in defiance. Before she could move a voice called out from above. The two fighters glanced upwards and noticed a figure standing in the fortresses’s doorway.

“Enough,” the man shouted, his red eyes dancing between the two, “you’re no use to me dead Cinder, this one is out of your league.”

There was a moment of silent contemplation as Cinder eyed Miranda. With a huff the coyotle shouldered her machete and took a step backwards. The man strolled down the stairs, humming a tune to himself. Even in the oppressive heat he wore a fur-lined hoodie and jeans. His hair was slicked back and his skin was tinted a light red. Once he was level with Miranda the man smiled at her and said, “howdy, name’s Kuzuru and this here is Cinder Salt, be a good girl and say hi Cinder.” The Coyotle did not responded and instead walked away in indignation. “Sorry about her, she’s got the manners of a local,” Kuzuru said, “so who might you be?”

“Miranda,” the trespasser answered, still wary of the sudden tonal shift.

“Miranda, my dear, have you ever thought about killing for money?” the demon asked, offering the most sincere smile he could muster.

“Straight to the point huh?”

“Well, I believe that one shouldn’t beat around the bush,” Kuzuru said, “I’m the leader of this fledgling band of contract killers and we could always use some new blades.”

“What’s in it for me?” Miranda asked, acting as disinterested as possible.

Kuzuru held out his hand and produced a small orb of omnilium. The rainbow colors pulsed and swirled around his palm. “I’m offering the only thing that matters, power, fame, sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll baby, everything pales in comparison to this miraculous stuff,” he answered, “it’s yours and all you have to do is be willing to spill some blood.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch, but you’d have to prove that you’re more than just a pretty face,” the demon said, “pick a bounty, any bounty, kill them, bring me back proof and a vial of their blood, and you’ll be welcome among our ranks, hell as a little bonus I’ll throw in some omnillium on top of the reward for the bounty, so, how does that sound Ms. Miranda?”