Jeniseus

An Unseen Face

In an old town, there stood an Inn, with broken walls and creaking floorborads. The sign once shiny and bright, now dully read "The Drunken Mule". The double, sallon style doors creaked in the wind, and the chairs rocked on un-even legs. A young man dusted the tables and washed the mugs. It was boring, and business was slow. no-one stayed at the inn anymore, just came occasionally for food, and a good drink. In a dark corner table, a drunken man lay passed out and snoring. 

Something pushed through the doors, a limp to it's walk, leaving a black, inky trail of blood where it stood. One arm clutching it's side, it made it's way to the bar, where the young barkeep stood shaking in his boots.

"M-m-may I-i-i he-lp yo-o-ou?" he stuttered, staring into the deep burning red eyes of the one before him.

The creature dropped a bag of coins on the countertop. "Room." It rasped in a slow, harsh and gutteral whisper, that sounded like many voices at once.

"C-certainly, sir, mam, uh.... but I-i-i'll n-need yo-ur na-ame... f-for the r-r-rec-ords." He held up a book with shaking hands. 

The creature grabbed harshly at it's side and faltered on it's feet, but only slightly. It was plain to see it was in pain. "Jeh...Knee..Sea...Ussss" It said in that once more harsh whisper, though it was more pained. The Barkeep scribbled it down in his book, and quickly told Jeniseus where it's room was.

Jeniseus struggled up the stairs, hissing and swiping at the boy when he tried to help. When it had gone, the boy stared after it, and thought. A creature such as that would not ask for a room, or even show up in a tavern when injured. In most cases, it wouldn't even be alone. That creature was probably once part of a Horde..... And yet, it can talk, think and act for itself... How interesting. It still scares me, though. At least it paid... As he turned to return to the bar, he noticed the puddle and trail of blood. "Ah! That's going to take forever to clean up!"

_______Note: Some words here are German!_______

Jeniseus.

"Ach, What now, Stimme?"

He was afraid of you.

"Tch... I know. A wounded creature, and still, he shook in his boots."

He was also worried for you. He tried to help.

"I was fine. I didn't need help from Shmutz."

Do not call him that. He is not filth.

"Fine... I did not need help from a junge. Better, Stimme?"

At least it is not an insult.

Will you heal?

"Tssss.... Yes, I will heal. I have had worse."

Yes...

I see.

Your master was not kind to you.

"No."

You don't like talking of him?

"No."

I understand.

I will refrain from mentioning him from now.

Tell me, Why do you try to hide things from me?

You know I will find out everything.

"Ch.... That's exactly why I don't mention things to you - You know it all already."

No...

Some things are blocked...

"Then I don't know them either."

You are good, Jeniseus.

"Let no-one tell me otherwise."

You are not corrupt.

"I speak only the truth."

Others may frown apon your lack of loyalties....

"But you do not."

Until I need to speak with you again, Jeniseus.

"Ach - I thought you'd never leave."

Jeniseus relaxed slightly, now that the voice was quiet, and it was it's own thoughts again, not the memories and thoughts of others. Jeniseus withdrew it's hand from it's side, sticky, inkblack blood covering it and the wound.

The room It had paid for had a wash room, so Jeniseus removed it's cloak and started to remove it's armor, piece by piece, rinsing them of blood. When It had finished, it used the now damp cloth of It's cloak, to wash the wound. Jeniseus tore the cloak into strips, and tied them around It's side and abdomen. It would have to buy a new cloak. Again. It counted the money it had aquired, and found there was more than enough to buy several cloaks. And maybe some new pants. Carefully, Jeniseus put the armor back on, and went to get some clothes.

_______

An old lady had given Jeniseus a jar of salve, to put on It's wound. Jeniseus had also managed to buy Itself pants, several long, hooded cloaks, and a new leather double sheath for It's weapons.

As Jeniseus was once part of the Berserker class of the Horde, It had two scythes, one on each arm. It's blue skin was slightly scaled and protective, but It wore armor anyway, as armor kept Jeniseus in a state of mind where It felt untouchable - and It was. When standing straight, Jeniseus was abnormally tall - which came in handy when It had to intimedate others. It also carried two long daggers, jagged on one edge, smooth on the other, but equally sharp. It used them to hack and slash at it's enimies, with a four blade spin and kick.

Jeniseus was dangerous, formidible.

But an altercation with one just as dangerous, if I dare say, even more formidible than Jeniseus, had cost It greatly, though It knew It would heal.

It was Jeniseus's pride that had been trod apon. Jeniseus had fled from a battle. As It remembered the fight, a hissing snarl rose from It's lips. It looked at the poster It had ripped off a wall, and snarled even more. As Jeniseus looked at the face, It made a promise.

"I WILL find you,"

"And I will kill you,"

"Master."

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Author's notes: Hey guys! sorry if this chapter is once again short, I'm not used to writing overly long chapters....

but I hope you liked it anyway!!

if you got this far, comment "Clinkity Clunk!" before your comment... Please... I need to know how many people actually make it to the end of my stories, it boosts my will to write. More will, better stories!