I sighed. The arrow just missed my head, and as I turned to run I noticed the trees behind me were on fire. That vile light it produced sickened me, the only glow that does not feel cozy and warm. A burning glow that only causes harm and one, that brings a stream of memories to the surface. My body went limp as if I really had been shot by the arrow. It was at that thought that I came back to my senses, however that feeling was short lived. I looked down at the arrow sticking out of my leg. The arrow was especially long and made from a type of wood that absorbs liquids well. I gripped the arrow attempting to remove it from my leg but as I applied pressure, a purple liquid oozed out of the wood, molesting through the gaps in my fingers.

I woke up in an unfamiliar place. A large room decorated fully with deep red, and a rich gold caressing the dark oak wood that supported the roof of the building. The centre of the floor was covered in a huge, red rug with gold lining around the outside; the rest of the room was furnished with a variety of wooden chairs. As I further came to my senses I stood up, I was at one end of the long rectangular rug, with an audience of people staring at me directly. Across from me, even more to my surprise, was a giant of a man easily within eight foot. He had a shaved head with muffled features, as if someone had stretched out the skin on his face. He was bulky even for a samurai. He had a bare chest and wore what would usually be baggy, green trousers. These samurai had been chasing me for a week and it is only due to my skills as a ninja that I’m actually alive.

A crude looking man stole my attention, he was a Daimyo, a leader of a Japanese province. “Fight, my sons, Fight!” the man said. Within an instant the giant was charging towards me, his naginato, a huge sword with a long blade, too heavy for most men to wield in live combat, scrapping the floor besides him. I rolled to the side of him unsheathing my ninjato from my waist. The sword in my hand had been with me from quite some time ago, it was shorter than a regular katana and also straighter, and like most ninjato it was perfect for a ninja. I pounced at the samurai, throwing all my body weight towards him, but he calmly kicked me back. My next attempt was a jumping roundhouse kick, followed up by a butterfly kick, a kick consisting of propelling of your opponent with one leg and kicking with the other. The butterfly kick connected but barely seemed to phase him. He then went in for the killing blow. However with a flick of the wrist he redirected the sword and threw it towards the Daimyo. The Daimyo swiftly ducked and the sword carried on forward smashing through the window. Within seconds we both escaped.

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