World's Over Journal XXX Strange Tale

     The guard knocked upon the portal as we finished breakfast, sure enough he had seen our shinnanigans and had the courtesy to give us a few extra minutes to wash up and prepare a morning meal.

He was a very polite young warrior, we could tell at once that he was not as seasoned as Toki. His brown laquired plate armour bore no signs of war and his pale olive skin's was covered in naught but fiery pink markings, there were no scars. He even looked young, at least beside Toki when she received him at the door, he didn't even have a broken tusk, of which he had six, one in each corner of his mouth and two extra on the bottum that jutted out nearly to his brow where his blood orange hair lay mostly hidden under his brown laquired helm.

Toki and the young guard stood in the doorway taking for a few moments before Toki rejoined us for breakfast, along with our new guest.  He had pleasant manners and was a bit shy, if you could call it that, for he had never seen, much less interacted, with a human before and here he was sitting with two very preculiar persons.

As we sat eating in the back of the house in the kitchen round table upon a singular stone bench carved out of the mountain side there was much discussion about the days events. The young guard, whose name was Menki, told them that several undead warriors had made up camp in the vale. They had come armed to the teeth but had set up in the centre of the meadow, in plain view.

Kensori had approached only when, after several hours, the leader of the troop had come forth and sat down upon his knees before the fountain. The warrior carried only a longsword and short dagger beside it. He was dressed much like what we would have known as a samurai. Which means of course that his swords were a Diasho, Katana and lesser blade a Wakazashi.

About his gaunt skeletal haunting face was a mask, which made his face look more like a demon than undead. The faceplate hung down from his helmet, black stained grey laquered plates also hung down from the helm so that the warrior's head was entirely invisible. The mask itself was hideous, a twisted face with fangs that rolled back inside the eye sockets and came back out the the nose. Utter impenetrable darkness lay about the eye sockets, making any onlooker ponder if the warrior had eyes at all.

The rest of his armour was quite plan, black laqured plates down to his wrists embroidered in a once emerald green tunic. The same went for his kilt or hakama which just past his knees, his shin guards too were the same plates.

There in the middle of the glade before the fountain he sat until Kensori ventured forth alone, naught but his spear in hand and short blade hanging upside down from his left shoulder at his back. Kensori had come back to the other guards shortly and sent Menki to bring the visitors to the gates.

In earnest anticipation of,
        Jane
             Without Charles