Coal Dust Art and Writing

The Dwarven Samurai and The Ronin Fox

Written by Coal Dust

Date last edited: June 11, 2024 (mostly, as I was copying and pasting onto this website as of January 11,2025, I noticed a typo and fixed it. Changed stray to straw. Figured to put that out there for transparency sake.)

The dwarf found the sake, like all other sake in Haija, to be lacking in strength. It was as strong as water. Though he won’t deny that it was tasty water, he wished for something that would actually feel a slight buzz. He almost cursed his dwarvish tolerance of alcohol time to time. Though if it weren’t for his capability with strong drink, he wouldn’t be able to enjoy sake without much consequence.

He leaned against the wall as he sipped his sake. The tavern was empty with the exception of the single customer. It was quiet and almost empty, like the rest of the village. While the size was nowhere near that of a town, it was also more than just a couple homes and businesses. People should be busy.

Perhaps they are mourning someone’s death or there’s some sacred holiday I don’t know about. The dwarf thought as he scratched the chin underneath his square beard. Not a local fashion, but rather one from his homeland. He did however adopt the thin style of mustache that many men wore. He half expected someone to call his facial hair a bastardization of cultures. It didn’t matter to him as long as he looked good. At least in his opinion.

For the third time, the dwarf glanced over at the door that led to the kitchen. The waiter that promised his tempura rolls was nowhere to be seen and it has been a good while. Perhaps they were gossiping about the foreigner adopting parts of their culture.

The dwarf didn’t care if they gossiped. Lots of people talked about his height, or rather lack thereof. There weren’t many, if any, dwarves in this country. That gave him various advantages and disadvantages over the others of his race.

On one hand, his size makes it easy for his foes to underestimate him, making it all the easier to deliver a sucker punch. On the other, they often mistake him as a human midget. Not a proper dwarf.

Going back to sipping the sake, he pulled out a piece of paper from his bag. On the wanted poster he took from a copier from the last village he visited, there was a noble named Kuroi. His hollow eyes were small and his jowls stuck out like a sore thumb. Ten thousand yents was the reward for his head. His crimes were cannibalism and black arts. Even if his father, the one who put the bounty out, wanted his son alive, he legally couldn’t ask for such a thing. Kuroi was too far gone with his blasphemy and evil ways.

Hunting bounties such as these was a good side hustle that satisfied both of his instincts. The honorific sense of the samurai would be satisfied to bring a pathetic criminal to justice, and the carnal nature of the dwarf gets to enjoy a paycheck.

The bell rang, alerting the single guest and the staff that someone entered. The dwarf put the wanted poster away, not wanting to draw anyone’s curiosity on what he was holding. His lack of height was a conversation starter enough. The guest slid the door closed behind him and scanned the room. He stopped when he saw the dwarf.

The guest’s face was covered with a large straw hat that hid most of his face. If the dwarf was a little taller, he wouldn’t have seen the fox’s snout that belonged to the stranger. A halfman then. So, Haija do have them after all. The dwarf thought as he sipped the sake again.

He’s seen plenty of halfmen in his homeland. Men that carry the heads of choice beasts upon their shoulders. Wolves, bears, and even hawks. But he has never seen a single halfman in Haija. And he has never seen one with the face of a red fox.

The guest approached the dwarf’s table and knelt across from him. What was he here for? What did he want from him? As the fox sat, icy blue eyes revealed themselves.

As he stroked his mustache, he asked “So, what brought you to this fine place?” Despite a couple years of living in the country, his accent remained as brutish and blunt as his homeland.

If the accent surprised the foxy fellow, he didn’t show it. Instead, he responded with a surprisingly human and unaltered voice, “Just passing through.”

“Don’t lie to me, halfman,” the dwarf responded calmly, “You arrived at my table for a reason. May I ask why?”

The unfoxly grin that he gave surprised the dwarf. It was genuine earnestness. “It is obvious that you are a foreigner adopting our clothes, so that tells me that you are well traveled. I simply want to ask questions.”

“About what?” The dwarf put the cup on the table.

“Well, for starters, your name and where you are from.”

“Isn’t it proper manners in this land that you tell me your name and homeland first? Especially since you are the one that began the conversation?”

“I am afraid I cannot answer that. I have abandoned my name and have no home. Just a mere ronin, I’m afraid.”

The dwarf didn’t even bother hiding his sigh. He’s come across those types on more than one occasion. Those nihilists were never good company nor did they have intentions that were good for their health. “My name is Bordin Farmount, and my homeland, for now, is Haija. A mere nomad at that. But I used to live in Grenkeep.”

The foxy figure perked up at the news. The sudden move caused Bordin to reach for the studded club on his side. He risked insulting the owner of this tavern not long ago by insisting he kept his weapon with him. He felt that they weren’t capable of defending him, let alone themselves. They were skittish and nervous. The air that they gave was enough for him to stay armed as is.

The ronin raised his pawish hands up to show his lack of ill will. Bordin squinted at those. The halfmen at Grenkeep had human hands. No fur nor animalistic features except for their heads. It did not matter who they bred with, that was how it always was. So, just who or what was this ronin?

Eyeing the resting hand, the fox raised his hand. “I mean no harm. If I did, I would not approach you the way that I had just now. Please, take your hands off your tetsubo so that we might have a proper conversation.”

“Fair enough.” Bordin returned with a fake smile as he took his hand off the weapon. “Now, what do you want?”

“As I said, I would like information. Have you by any chance seen a man known as Chivik?”

“Never heard such a name. Weird one at that. What does he look like?”

“I don’t know. When I saw him, he had a black mask that had no eyes. His odd, glowing sword was coming out of my father’s back when I last saw him.”

“I am sorry for your loss.” He simply said as he scratched his beard awkwardly. It seemed that the revenging type were just as prevalent here as his homeland. The more he stayed in this country, the more he learned how much they were the same.

“You have done nothing wrong to me or my family. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Bordin had a small bit of pity for the young man. Regardless, he still found it unnecessary for the lad to give his life story. Especially when all he wanted to know was his name.

Fortunately, the bell rang again, providing momentary distraction from the conversation. Two ugly men entered. The tall one wore a dirty robe. The shorter one, just a little taller than Bordin, only wore a loin cloth. The way they walked seemed somewhat predatory to him. Perhaps the distraction wasn’t fortunate after all.

The taller of the two shouted, “Waiter! We have come for the sake! Lord Kuroi demands your worst and your best!” Bordin perked up upon hearing the name.

The waiter that failed to see if the ronin wanted anything came rushing out with a jug. He bowed profusely, saying, “There is more in the back. We are getting some right now! Please, do not harm our wives and children.”

The large one snatched the jug from the waiter and demanded, “Sake! Now!”

The waiter shrieked as the smaller one feinted a lunge. As he ran to the kitchen, cruel laughter erupted as the man did their bidding.

Bordin took the tetsubo on his side and approached the bandits. If they are working for Kuroi, then they are to be killed for association. And of course, one of them knew where their lord is.

As he approached, his sixth sense, a sense that was tempered in the caves of Juntar and honed further by training, urged caution. There was something about the way that they held themselves that felt off to him.

When they turned to face him, they paused. And Bordin knew immediately that they weren’t looking at him, but past him. The stranger caught their attention. They perceived him as the greater threat. Not long after looking, realization hit them, reviving their cocky attitudes. It was as though they noticed a wolf, but then saw that it had no fangs.

“You don’t have any tails, kitsune. Do you intend to stop us? With your lack of tails, surely you can tell we are better than you.”

The ronin huffed. “You are the fools that have no place here.”

The tall one began a march towards the ronin, katana drawn and thirsty for blood. Once he took one step past the dwarf, Bordin swung his club mightily towards his knees.

When the club collided, the knee didn’t budge one bit. The knee didn’t cave to the side as it should have. It was as though he hit a wall of meat rather than a delicate joint.

That was when an inhuman shriek came from the other bandit. A sound no man can make, but one that monkeys could.

Bordin dodged the strike from the other bandit. The strike wasn’t natural either. There was no skill behind the swipe. Instinct concluded he wasn’t fighting humans, but something else. Monsters, yokai, it didn’t matter. They bled, they bruised, they died.

The tall one tried to crush the puny dwarf, but the stranger closed the distance the moment he looked away and plunged his own katana into the heart of the inhuman being. The bandit grabbed the blade that protruded out of his chest and snapped the edge off.

As the stranger dealt with the taller one, Bordin swung the club at the shorter bandit. He leapt away at a distance no man could jump and lingered in the air only a moment too long. Whatever foul magic was afoot, it only hid their true appearance, not shift their form to that of man.

He ran to the side to avoid getting in the way of the stranger and the tall bandit all the while closing distance to the smaller creature. The bandit landed against and then leapt off the wall toward the dwarf, blade aimed to puncture the dwarf. Bordin reared the club up and smashed him in the face mid-flight.

The magic that covered the demon’s form shimmered as he flew back. Traces of white fur peeked through the magic as he landed on one of the empty tables.

The demon picking himself up from the ground was all the time the dwarf needed to close the gap. The bandit rolled off the table as a swing crushed the table underneath.

Bordin continued marching forward, swinging the club in the rhythm of a dancer. There was no abrupt movement nor did he never truly stop. There was only one continuous flow. His foe danced too, like a feral beast avoiding the wrath of a hunter. Erratic and furious.

As the demon exerted himself by dodging the blows, the magic began to shimmer away like water clearing dirt off of glass.

No longer was there an ordinary human bandit, but a red-faced monkey wearing a cloth. As the arms extended, a bat’s webbing stretched from his side. When he hissed, the mouth parted ways like a snake eating an egg. Rows of sharp yellow teeth revealed itself within its black mouth. The tail whipped about with a long stinger protruding in and out of it.

The waiter screamed, no doubt running to tell the other staff to run for their lives. Bordin wasn’t sure when he had come back, but ignored the scream. He had a yokai to kill.

That was when the foxy stranger flew and crashed right between them. Both combatants hopped back in surprise. The ronin moaned as he got up. The hat he wore on his head was destroyed, nothing more than straw and string.

Following the fox’s gaze, Bordin found not the taller bandit, but a large and orange hulking bear with black stripes. It stood tall, large paws ready to crush and tear into meat. The fact that the stranger is in one piece is both a mystery and a miracle.

Figured as such. Bordin grimly thought as he readied his club once more. The larger yokai rolled his neck as he looked at the dwarf.

“You aren’t from around here, midget.” The bear yokai blathered with red flappy lips, “Once we kill you and this kitsune, we shall enjoy snacking on your corpses.”

“You aren’t the first ones to have final words like that.” Bordin retorted.

The monkey demon made the next move by leaping forward with a furious cry, only for it to be stopped and fall. The stranger’s hand gripped around the tail of the foul creature. The stinger reached out, attempting to reach for the arm that held the tail. When the fox saw this, he twisted the tail’s end away from him and chopped off the end with the broken katana.

The monkey cried furiously as he escaped the grip. Blood spewed from the tail as he ran away from the kitsune. When it was far away enough, it turned and hissed with clenched teeth.

While the bear looked at the kitsune and began to walk forward, Bordin threw all his might into clubbing the demon’s knee. His cry was worse this time around, as this time, the knee caved to the side, broken from the impact. Last time, it was the thigh that the dwarf hit, not the knee as it turned. Bordin hated illusions.

He swung his girthy arm to try to swat Bordin away, but the dwarf ducked the swing and returned with one of his own. The studded club smashed into the beari’s face. Teeth broke underneath the fury of the strike.

As the bear fell down, Bordin kept the momentum up by pounding the skull. Over and over again he pounded the tetsubo until it caved in. The tiger of a bear stopped moving. Only the fingers twitched.

When he looked up to check on the other demon, a small steel stake was sticking out of his mouth. The eyes were forever stuck with the look of feral fury.

Once Bordin slammed his tetsubo down on the bear again for good measure, he turned to the ronin and gave an appreciative nod. “Good work, stranger.”

“You did well yourself. But I fear we may have gotten ourselves involved in something.” Bordin noticed that he didn’t add anything regarding whether or not they should be involved.

“Aye. Not the first time that happens for people like us, I suppose.”

“I did not expect someone of your size to be able to wield a weapon like that.” He said, eyeing the club that was half the height of the kitsune.

“Benefits of being a dwarf.” He grinned, then pounded his chest. “Plenty of upper body strength. But we need get back on track. We ought to ask the waiter what’s going on.”

When they turned to see where the waiter ran, they found a man wearing a chef’s uniform. The waiter cowered behind him as he raised his own katana cautiously. With his one remaining eye on the kitsune, he asked, “Are you with those demons?”

“No.” The ronin answered as he dropped his broken katana as a show of trust. Bordin knew he wasn’t fully disarmed, remembering the spike that killed the monkey yokai.

“I see that you have no tails.” The chef observed.

When the kitsune didn’t respond to the observation, the chef continued as he gave his weapon to the waiter with the instruction to put it away. “No need to worry, I won’t inquire further on that matter. I just wanted to see if you were an enemy or not. And don’t think I forgot about you, short one. You two fought exceptionally well.”

With an appreciative bow, Bordin asked, “And I presume you are the chef that’s taking a while with my sushi?”

The chef returned with a curt, but apologetic bow of his own. “There were complications that came up. Considering that you killed two of Kuroi’s demons, you do have the right to know what you gotten yourselves into. After all, you have just made a new enemy today. And you may have damned us all.”

When Bordin scowled, the chef gestured for the two to follow. “No need to worry, we are allies in this little situation of ours. Now come on.”

The two followed the chef into the kitchen. It was well maintained. The water was boiling on top of a clay stove and the short table next to it was polished with good care. It also had Bordin’s unfinished meal on it.

The chef moved past the table and moved some barrels to the side. Underneath was a trapdoor that he lifted up, which revealed damp and dirty tunnel.

Once they entered the tunnel, the waiter closed the trapdoor behind them. There was no darkness, for at the end of the tunnel, there was a light. As they crawled through the tunnel, Bordin noticed that the tunnel was dug with haste, but not recently either. He also knew that it wouldn’t be collapsing on anyone or anything anytime soon.

When Bordin got through, he saw a woman and seven children all crowded together. The average looking woman watched as the children eyed the newcomers with curiosity. It was obvious that the children wasn’t hers, but she held herself in a motherly fashion. Especially when she told the kids to get back and leave the strangers alone.

The room itself was surprisingly large. There was plenty of room for the woman and children to move about. Even the kitsune, when he got out of the tunnel, was able to stand tall without his ears poking into the ceiling.

“A week ago, Kuroi and his demons came to our village.” The chef started as he gestured to the woman and children, “They took our women and children as hostage, and unless we paid them in sake and our other goods, they were to be eaten. These are the ones we have been able to save just in time. This room is a temporary place to hide in case bandits or foreign soldiers attacked. I dug the tunnel out myself as a precaution. It was a good thing I did, or they would be trapped with the others.”

“Were you a soldier?” Bordin asked as he noted a bucket in the corner.

“I was once a time ago, but that isn’t important. There was a plan that I was developing to get our families back. The problem is that I am the only one with fighting experience. That is, until you two came along. I would like you two to help us. In exchange, you will have our gratitude. And if that means nothing to you, note that Kuroi does not treat the slayer of his servants kindly.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I will tell you when we emerge. They do not need to know.”

The woman spoke up, voice tired with a touch of nerve to it. “So, Kuroi, that wretched-“ She stopped herself from cursing, conscious of the presence of children. “Is he still around?”

“Unfortunately, he is.”

“I understand. The children are getting restless.”

“I know. I’ll see if I can arrange a visit.”

“Who are you?” The child interjected, not sure if he should be looking at the kitsune or the dwarf. Both were strange to the children.

“They are here to save your brothers, sisters, and mothers.” The chef declared with forced bravado. Fortunately, the children didn’t notice.

“Where’s your tails?” One of the older children, maybe ten, eleven, asked the ronin.

The kitsune smiled and answered. “I saw a barber that was terrible at his job.”

The children giggled at the joke. That alone lightened their mood. Bordin grinned himself, but more so to hide his other emotions. Dwarves were comfortable in dark cramped spaces just as much as they were in the open. Humanity on the other hand, was a different story. He pitied the children.

“I suppose we ought to plan our rescue.” Bordin suggested, but with the way he said rescue, the kitsune and chef knew what he really meant. Raid. Attack. Spill the blood of their enemies so they can keep the village secure and rescue their loved ones.

“That’s a good idea.” Turning to the women, he then said, “I’ll have my waiter bring down food in a little bit. There is an order that I still have to fill out.”

“Before we do, I have one question.”

“And that is?”

“Why bring us down here?”

He held his hand out to the woman and children. “I wanted you to see what we are fighting for, not just merely know. I won’t lie, we are desperate for fighters. You two will be of great help. If you are willing to help.”

“I’ll help. I’m after Kuroi anyways, so it works in my favor. What about you stranger?”

The ronin was silent, stirring with the thoughts in his own head. So Bordin asked again. When he came to, the fox agreed.

“Excellent,” The chef grinned. “Now let us head upstairs and discuss our plans.”

The dwarf enjoyed his fried sushi as they discussed their strategies. When they finished, each man knew their role in this. Bordin’s role was probably the most straight forward and also the riskiest.

They set out at night. With the waiter as the guide, the samurai arrived where the yokai den resided. The moon shone its golden light above a shack, rotting with black mold.

“This is where you pay ransom?” Bordin asked as he hefted the bag containing the two demonic heads up on his shoulder. The only other items the dwarf brought with him was his tetsubo and his knife from his native land. He will never trade his knife for one of the wakizashi for combat. The steel from dwarven lands were superior to everything else. Even when the steel was crafted by human hands, it was superior quality than what the Haijan used. That was another reason why he favored the tetsubo. He simply did not trust their steel.

“Y-yes.” The waiter stammered as he presented a small jug of sake. Were there no lid on the jug, there would be no doubt that some of the sake would have watered the ground.

He took the drink with same hand used to hold the bag of heads. As he held the ring of the with his pinky, Bordin wondered how this man was going to be able to fight if he was this afraid right now. Then again, the fear of combat is always worse than the fighting itself.

“Go.” Bordin ordered as he approached the shack. The waiter ran off to join with the others to fulfill their part of the plan. Kill the guards with the help of the foxy ronin, who, despite the lack of tails, has enough magic to detect the invisible yokai. Kuroi will most likely notice the deaths of his watchmen through magical means. So, they needed a distraction.

As part of the plan, the boisterous samurai shouted at the top of his lungs, “Kuroi! You idiot coward! Two of your servants tried to kill me today!” He threw the bag on the ground, allowing the heads to roll out.

He continued, “I have come to challenge you for this insult! If you are as great as you say, and I am sure it is nothing but a lie, then come out and fight me, you dog!”

The shack door opened without a sound. A robed man left through the door, back hunched so far forward that he could look at the dwarf face to face without looking down. The face itself was elongated like a rat with no fur. The eyes and ears were surprisingly human, which only made it all the less human.

When he opened his mouth, the front teeth of a rat jutted out. His voice squeaked like a coward, “Lord Kuroi is amused that you think you can best him in combat. He wants to let you know that he is not insulted, as he cannot be insulted by rats like you.”

The irony of the rattish man telling him this was not lost on Bordin. But ignoring the slight, he stated, “Your pathetic lord can see me.”

The rat yokai cringed as he nodded. “His servants see well for him. He knows about the cowardly villager that brought you here. He does not care as long as he gets what is rightfully his. If you wish to fight, then you can fight for his amusement. Amuse him enough, and he may fight you himself.”

Were he in any other mood, and were this any coward any more decent than a lord of demons, he would have been insulted. But to be insulted by evil, as his master taught, is to be seen a compliment. A sign that one is on the right track. So Bordin grinned. Besides, this will retain their attention much longer.

“I accept, but on the condition that after three fights, that he himself will come down and face me. Lest he be a coward.”

“I will relay that to my lord.”

“No.” Bordin interjected. “Take me to him. I will tell him myself.”

The half-rat stared at the dwarf. Astonished at his stupidity and boldness. “Very well. Follow me.”

The door was held open, the yokai gesturing for Bordin to enter first. When he didn’t move in first, the demon sighed a squeak and went in first. The dwarf soon followed, his back to the door rather to the demon.

Instead of showing a rotting shack, there was instead a dark stairwell. With it, an aroma of mildew and rotten meat crept the stairs up to meet them. The smell only grew stronger as the two went down the spiraling stairs. With each step, the air grew more humid. Bordin gripped the tetsubo he leaned over his shoulder only tighter.

His nose began to burn as a new smell was introduced. Something was burning, but he didn’t know what. All he knew was that it wasn’t wood nor coal. At least, not exclusively.

Shrill, inhuman screams mixed with feral cries of laughter began to creep their way up the stairs. The same kind of noises that sane men would want to run from. As well as a samurai.

A light began to show itself at the bottom of the ever spiraling staircase. It was dim crackle of fire light.

When Bordin entered the chamber, the aromas of foul meat overtook the scent of mildew. That was when the dwarf soon found out what the new scent was.

To his confusion, it was a yokai, one made of flesh and only flesh, screamed as it was roasted over a fire. Its former friends, all of varying shapes, sizes, and degrees of abnormality and horror, laughed at the creature’s suffering, and drooled at the upcoming meal.

Unskilled musicians banged on the drums with their fists, fins, and anything else that can slap a drum. It was loud and obnoxious. This was like the boisterous celebrations of winning a war that took place in Grenkeep. Only those celebrations were not this foul, and they were earned by fighting honorably. They did not drink and cheer to kidnapping women and children to force men to do their bidding.

Bordin didn’t hide his disgust, nor did he care that they noticed. The dwarf has killed greater things for less of an insult.

“So, you are the one who’s come to challenge me.” a loud and demanding voice stated. The den grew quiet once he spoke. The owner of the voice was a fat red oni sitting on a wooden throne. The oni only wore a robe, choosing comfort over prestige except for the necklace around his neck. The necklace was made of bulbous beads with a key tied to the bottom of it. The very key that can open the cage beneath the throne. The very cage that held the daughters, sons, and wives of the village.

Behind the oni was a wooden idol. The idol was a nearly naked man with thirteen arms, seven on its right side and six on the other. The head of the idol was that of a centipede. Bordin saw the idol before. It was a mission in which he, his master, and twelve other samurai, destroyed a cult that was sacrificing and eating people. Male or female, adult or child, did not matter.

He did not know what dark god the oni worshipped, but if this is what the deity wanted, then all graven images of his ought to be destroyed. Make this evil, and possibly false god forgotten.

The dwarf sneered in disgust at the supposed lord of demons. The lord frowned upon seeing the dwarf’s expressions, which only caused his jowls to sag closer to the earth. The small, hollow eyes narrowed at the challenger.

“You are the one that sent the yokai out. They tried to kill me, and as you are their master, you must pay for this insult, Kuroi!” It did not take long to make the connection. Bordin was careful not to insult the god in front of the oni, lest he sent his minions after him at once.

Kuroi waved his warted hand aside, as though dismissing trivial, “They were weak, but I ought to take insult that they were killed by someone lesser. Instead, you intrigue me. You march to my home, demanding that I fight you to the death. You know not what you ask for.”

“I do,” Bordin said hefted the tetsubo into his hands. “I want your brains mashed into a pulp, but not so much that your ugly mug isn’t unrecognizable. I got a bounty to collect after all. And by turning yourself into an oni, all you did was increase my paycheck!”

The former noble laughed as he rested his bulbous hand on top of a massive cleaver that rested on his side. “So, my father put a bounty on my head! That foolish old man’s got a weak spine. He could not see what strength the dark arts provide!” Once he finished, a barrage of sounds, screeches, and howls that were supposed to be laughter filled the air. The idol behind the oni seemed to shimmer.

Once they settled, Kuroi continued, “Tell me, did the village set you up to fight me as well? Pleading and crying for your help? No doubt they want their women and children back. Well, whether they asked for your help or not, it doesn’t matter. After I kill you, I will use the intestines for their firstborns as noodles. And I will use the skulls of their mothers as a bowl for their soup. Once I finish feasting on their corpses, then I’ll go to their village while eating the faces of their women. Faces are alright, but not as good as their-“

“Come and fight me you foul coward!” Bordin’s shout reverberated in the den of stinking demons. He was more than done with the demon’s foulness. He now had a third reason to kill this oni. Mere principality.

The yokai shouted in protest to the insult. There was a tinge of fear in their less than animal cries. Whether it was of Bordin or Kuroi, it didn’t matter. The dwarf already knew. They feared their master and how he would react. His feelings dictated the very actions of these evil creatures.

Kuroi pounded his foot against the cage underneath him, causing the children and the women to startle and his servants to quiet themselves. The only one that cried was the fleshy creature being cooked alive over a roast.

“Someone kill that yokai already! His screams are now annoying me.” Flesh tore, followed by louder screaming before true silence came.

Kuroi looked at Bordin, eyes narrowing. There was enough of the political noble left in the oni to understand what would happen in the long run if he were to order the dwarf’s death here and now. An accusation of a coward is a serious offense in Haija, and one that must be disproven at once.

“You wanted to fight three of my slaves before fighting me. Count yourself lucky, midget, for you have insulted me. You and me. Right here, right now.” The oni took the giant cleaver of a weapon next to him and hopped down. Bordin could almost feel the earth shake when he crashed to the ground.

The yokai backed off, eager and curious to see how this would go. He raised his flappy arm at the dwarf and boasted, “When you are dead, I shall use your nose as a necklace and your beard as a pillow!”

Bordin forced out a grin. “That’s the best compliment I ever got for my nose.”

Once the foe took a step forward, the yokai screamed in terror. Then some of those screams became guttural.

“We are under attack!” A whiny voice called out before he gagged on his own blood.

The villagers have come with a vengeance and fought like dragons. They were not trained in the arts of war and combat, but their fury and the good leadership of the chef carried them the rest of the way. They will tolerate no evil this night. It did not matter if the enemy pleaded for their lives, cursed them, or fought back. Either they will die, or the villagers would.

And so began the bloodbath. The katanas were soon painted with different colors of blood. Blue, red, green, yellow, black, all of which mixed like oil and water. The claws, blades, and anything else sharp belonging to the denizens of the den were only painted red as they dug in the flesh of the humans.

The ronin, armed with a borrowed katana, joined the villagers in painting the den into a blood canvas. Each strike was calculated and took two cuts at most to kill each strange creature. The heads of men that once belonged to animal bodies flew. Animalistic and man-like limbs were removed from unnatural bodies. The variety of corpses will no doubt stink this foul place further, especially when the rot comes to eat their bodies.

Kuroi, taken aback by the sudden attack, left him open for Bordin to strike. Except the oni was too tall for the dwarf to swing the club down into the face. It was moments like these in which he wished he brought a sword.

Pushing the regret aside, he slammed the tetsubo into the side of the knees. A sickening crack blended in with the choir of feral violence. His own cries added to the symphony of bloodshed as he fell to his knees. It was a relief that they broke unlike when he tried to break the knees of the bear yokai he fought this morning.

The oni, now noticing the dwarf, aimed to cleave the dwarf in two. Sidestepping, he aimed his next blow for Kuroi’s head. Only he caught it with his free hand and ripped the club from Bordin. He threw it aside and raised his cleaver high above his head, just barely scraping the ceiling.

With the slash so slow, predictable and ungraceful, the dwarf easily dodged the attack. Drawing his dagger as he stepped aside, he used the momentum of the dodge to leap forward and plunge the blade into the throat of the behemoth.

Putting his other hand on the jowls for a better grip, Bordin sliced the throat wide open. Black and oily blood poured from the new hole in the throat. The hateful eyes of the oni lingered on the dwarf for a moment before glazing over. He fell to his side, pathetic lord of lesser demons no more. Then for good measure, he pulled knife out and stabbed the back of the throat.

Something collapsed onto him, causing him to fall over. Panicking, he shoved whatever caused him to fall aside. It was the body of a bat, and next to it was the decapitated head of the same creature, but with a woman’s face.

“I suppose that makes us even.” The kitsune remarked as he shook the blood from his katana.

Bordin nodded. “True, but the night is young. We got lots of killing to do.” He stopped to grab a ferret with sickles for hands and slammed the skull against the ground. The puny yokai died immediately with a crunch.

The kitsune nodded in agreement. Then the two joined the fight with the other villages. They moved around the foul lair, stabbing and cutting down the enemies of these good men. At one point, Bordin found the club and began caving in skulls and crushing limbs.

The small demons flattened, the larger ones crippled, allowing the villagers and the tailless ronin to finish them off. Over the course of several minutes, the yokai were all dead.

But there was no celebration in the air. Some of the men that joined in the rescue mission died too, adding their own blood to the aftermath of the carnage. Bordin gave a silent prayer to his god for these men. They fought like warriors and with one of the greatest purposes out there. In defense of the family.

After they collected themselves, the waiter decapitated Kuroi and took his necklace. After unlocking the cage that held their wives and children, some of them wept over their brave fathers and husbands. Bordin’s eyes began to sting, so he shut them to hide the tears. The bravery of some of the men turned their wives into widows and made their children fatherless.

The chef spoke up with a booming quality that commanders have. “These men died and will meet our ancestors with great honor. Remember their sacrifices and their love for you. Now let’s get out of here and burn this wretched place down.”

No one argued as they brought the dead worth burying out of the wretched hive of stink and wickedness. Only some returned to start the fire that the chef suggested. And only the kitsune and the dwarf remained to maintain and watch the fire. The other villagers longed to be their families. To rejoice the living and to mourn the dead.

Bordin’s tetsubo, cleaned of the many colors of blood, was returned to its special bag on his back and the knife returned to the sheathe on his hip. But the heaviest thing he carried was Kuroi’s bagged head. It was the only part of the body that were to remain. The rest of the corpse to be burned in the fire to keep Kuroi’s soul damned, never return to his body again. And the idol of whatever dark god he worshipped burned with him.

According to the villagers, the organ that housed the soul was not in the head, but still remaining in the body. Whether the soul was stored in the head or this unknown organ, he knew not. Regardless, the oni will not return to the land of the living ever again.

Two instincts collided with each other in the dwarven samurai. The natural dwarf wanted to keep the head, say nothing and get a bit of coin. The samurai that was instilled in him desired to leave the head for the villagers. In the end, he told them of the bounty and how the coin could help.

To his surprise, they refused it. The only purpose they had for coin was to trade for luxuries and medicine. Other than that, this village were mostly self-sufficient. Saving their families was sufficient for their needs. The head was a way for the them to repay their heroes. When Bordin insisted again, they demanded that they take the head of the foe away from him. They wanted all memory of the demon to be gone from the village forever.

But the samurai knew that nightmares, legends, and battles don’t go away that easily. Over time, the children will tell tale of how their fathers fought with a short and foreign samurai and a kitsune ronin that had no tails. But no tales of that horrid and valiant battle will be told today.

Bordin thought about sharing the reward with the nameless stranger. Based on his solemn demeaner, he had a feeling he wouldn’t care much for the reward. Though it never did harm a soul to exercise generosity.

As they stared into the roaring flame, the samurai broke the silence. “Stranger.”

“Hm?” The kitsune perked up. The dwarf grinned. For someone that’s given up his name, he sure responded to that quickly.

“How would you feel about coming with me to Funchi to receive your share of the reward? You did help kill Kuroi after all.”

Despite the offer, the dwarf hoped the kitsune would say no. That he would say something about continuing his quest for revenge or some sort of honorific that never existed amongst ronin and samurai. That he would say he preferred to be light of coin or something similar.

“I would like to join you. I need a bit of extra scratch and killing a demon was better than my original idea of making coin.”

Bordin didn’t ask what his new traveling companion’s idea was. He didn’t need to. It didn’t take much imagination to see what kind of jobs a desperate vagabond with a blade would do. Especially the revenging type such as this fellow.

“That’s good.” He replied as he handed the head over to the ronin. “You can hold onto this then. It’s surprisingly heavy.”

The kitsune glared at the dwarf. “You swung the tetsubo around like a madman. Only strong men can swing such a weapon as that with wild abandon.”

“Aye, perhaps. But the thing here, my foxy friend, is that I’m not a man. I am a dwarf.”

When he showed confusion, Bordin waved it off. He’ll explain later. They have a couple weeks worth of travel to reach Funchi for the reward.

They returned to watching the fire. As the flames danced and ate the den of yokai, Bordin thought on what to call the ronin. He had a couple weeks to think on it. No doubt he’ll think of a name for him tomorrow or the next day. And if the ronin objects, Bordin wouldn’t care. Calling him stranger over and over again was already proving to be annoying to the foreign samurai.

After Thought

A year or two before writing this story, a simple idea popped into my head while I was driving somewhere. A dwarf that was a samurai. I knew then that I had to write a short story about it. But at that time I was dealing with mental health issues and a major lack of will to write. Not to mention a couple failed attempts. My confidence was low and things were rough. So the idea cooked in my head for a little bit. As for the creation of the character, the ronin fox, it was by accident. I did an artwork the year prior of a kitsune samurai. But there was one issue. Too late into the artwork, I forgot to add the tails. So instead of backtracking, I made it a part of his lore that he was docked at birth. He was going to be his own short story, but not long after the idea of putting him with the dwarf seemed a whole lot more appealing. I considered at one point of making him the protagonist as well, but I decided against it. I felt that it would take the tone of the story in a direction I would not care for. So it stuck with Bordin. I believe I made the right choice. At one point, I thought about reading the story, make some art for it, and make it a video on youtube, but as time went, I forgot about the idea and now it doesn't seem as appealing to me. Not all projects need to be full blown out there.

For a while, I wasn't sure what to do with this short story. I wasn't confident in sharing it and if I did want to share it, I didn't want to share it on a public platform. As I worked on the website, I figure this would be a good place to put it. As mentioned before the story, I fixed a typo as I noticed as I was putting it on the story. Gotta love it when you look over it several times and still miss something. Yes, I did look over this a couple times. Editing, copywriting, etc. Sometimes you just miss stuff.

With all of that, thank you for reading my short story. If you have critiques, feel free to message me on one of my socials.