The air was fluttering with the sounds of poor people piffling wears that no one with money wanted, the streets littered with just as many people who had little to distinguish themselves from the actual litter itself paving the side walks. Water flushed from strange pipes from so many sources that everyone feared letting a dribble hit them in case it was from the sewer or the vomiting well near the old bar, releasing stock for the new daily passage of puking for the early drinkers. Dump Down Alley wasn't a place that you like to hear a full description about but it was worse in person, which has earned it infamy for being one of the few places on this world to surpass the words used to depict it.


A tumor in the traffic occurred of bypassing con men and desperately searching nobodies as they all clogged up on the side of one the pavements  [i]"LADIES, AND GENTLEMEN"[/i] the voice called it out with a theatrical display between his guttural, lower town common tongue but none paid attention [i]"OI, look 'ere you docile drunks"[/i] That turned a few. [i]"I wish to present to you, a man from the forest. He has drunk fire, endured stab wounds, dove into the lavender lands in his youth and he is here today to amaze you with the gift from beyond that his many years of teaching have wrought"[/i]


The man announcing swung his arms from side to side, wobbled around his prospective observers with the same grace as a drunk warden who couldn't be bothered to shower for a while. His clothes were fancy, as in they did not look like ragged leather from a suicidal cow compared to the merging, patch work of dirty faces at this single junction. A young boy, not yet tainted by his station tugged on a dreary mothers arm who was pulled with ease towards him [i]"Come, mother. Maybe this man can help us"[/i] he uttered in tone that proudly displayed hope without shame as the few adults drifted to the side to reveal his potential answer to his enigmatic prays.



[color=brown] Before them all stood a man who eyes had sunken into holes declared too depressing for moles to crawl into unless they gave up on life, his eye sockets were so black that it was hard to tell where his irises sat and the ashen bruises started. His face was wrinkled beyond repair, splitting apart with cracks that only worsened as his cheeks split into a toothy smile, perhaps the only item shown not falling apart so far. His skin wore its veins all over to such an extent it was like peeking into a machines wiring while his pigment was a ghostly whites. He seemed tall, without being it, he was slightly smaller than the regular man but his shadow over took them easily as he stood proud. [/color]


His clothes consisted of a red piece of clothe, carefully cleaned with the smell of flower petals while blaring a crimson red. In the areas at his ankles, wrists and right shoulder straps of belt held leather armor and accessories, declaring their experience from the dents collected  in the past [color=brown][i]"Hello"[/i] [/color]  his tongue spitting words like rocks even when smiling.


[i]"Mommy, I don't like him"[/i] the child meekly complained in reaction. Becoming teary eyed as she picked him up and carried him away. Her own look still as dead than alive.


[color=brown] [i]"I hate kids"[/i] [/color]



The crowd quickly closed up around him again as the woman could be spotted cradling her son in her retreat, while none the crowd were crying many who were not so pissed that they could tell what they were actually looking at had a wide set of eyes themselves as they tried not to meet his diamond sharp gaze [i]"Right. Well"[/i] the announcer said after the silence soaked in for a moment [i]"now that is over with. May I please offer you. Gin Rae. Master of the Scolding Fist"[/i]


[i]"Scolding fist....?"[/i] the man spoke up from within the belly of the crowd, he may of been hidden but his voice was blatant in its half annoyed query at the men before him [i]"Yes, the scolding fist. Master of an other worldly summery of spiritual anger. He is the weapon of the dead, the bullet of the body...he is-"[/i] the announcer was, however cut off before finishing his spiel [i]"He hits things"[/i] The man, this time had come into view. He stood forth, blond hair that would put most nobles to shame and while he had dirt on him like any other. He wore it was a sense of character that delivered confidence, all while he cradle a metal shield.



[i]"My good sir, you make a mockery of the finest art known to man. Martial arts! Can you not see the value in the mastery of the body"[/i] the announcer never stopped his gig, he always spoke loudly but judging by how he couldn't actually remain straight for more than ten seconds that might of been because he was as drunk as he actually looked and couldn't tell he was screaming at people [i]"That's all fine and good but we got magic here..I saw a man, turn into a woman yesterday. How the hell is a glorified boxer going to match that"[/i] the crowds all bobbled their heads in agreement, half filled with fear as Gin stared into the abyss with enough intensity to scare a statue.







[i]"Well, nay sayer. If you would please put your money where your mouth is. Give me your shield and Gin will prove his power. He will show the art of the angry dead"[/i] now the announcer was waving his arms as if he was trying to hypnotist a snake when spoke of the dead, twirling them at all around before slowly taking the shield out of the mans hands who gave consent with his inquisitive frown and lack reaction. The shield was unremarkable, yet polished and sturdy as it was laid to rest on a tiny wooden stall before Gin rae who merely looked down upon it with disdain.



The wind left the area as silence fell, the man before them only placing his hands together and closing his eyes as pointed his forehead at the obstacle before him. His stature stood straight as a tower as the small oncoming collection of breaths came from his noses. Sweat, clambered out his face in evacuation. His body boiled and his nose now breathing in air so hard and out that the man down the street could feel it on his neck. Heat amassed, his nose only getting faster as the vein in his skull twirling under his skin like worms. 


[color=red] [i]"SMASH!"[/i] [/color]



The blow was not even seen but before anyone could keep up with the sudden strike, his blistering red, sweat soaked hand had fallen on the table. Splitting the shield across the floor along with a collection of splintered wood.



[i]"HEY....THAT'S MY SHIELD"[/i] cried out a voice in protest, but it didn't come from the blond haired man. Instead guards were carried in the distance with the accusation towards them, at first Gin looked at the announcer, then at the man.


[color=brown][i]".......really....."[/i][/color] He merely asked before the stool was flooded with guards and officers, and one. Very upset blacksmith.