Masako watched in frozen awe as the woman cut down enemy after enemy, face composed throughout. As a daughter of a daimyo, Masako had been spared many of the horrors of life, but death had not been one of them. At the tender age of seven she’d had her eyes opened to the bright, dark red of blood welling forth from a samurai when she’d snuck out to watch the Seppuku of one of her father’s samurai, not yet having known what the word meant. 

Although she hadn’t understood just what had happened back then, she knew enough to figure that someone had just died, while perhaps not peacefully, honorably. And this clash of swords was by no means honorable.

At the woman’s words, Masako blinked in surprise as her brain took a moment to process the words. When she did, however, Masako almost tripped over in shock and fear of--of what? 

Righting her stance, the girl nodded vigorously and turned to the door to find everyone in the bar looking at the two women standing astride the bloody mess of the floor. Masako hesitated before looking back at her mysterious savior. [i]Perhaps...[/i]

The look on the servant boy's face told the tavern owner what was going to happen next, and he almost crowed in amusement. So the boy was one of [i]those[/i], huh? The ones who thought they were entitled and rich enough to pick up bodyguards with the change in their pockets. Well, he'd seen how such exchanges went before, and he didn't want any more blood dirtying up his bar today.

"I suggest finding another tavern for the night," the man said as he used a rag to clean off Masako's cup, his tone not leaving room for protest. Masako's eyes widened, and she quickly followed the woman out of the tavern.

[color=indianred]”Wait!”[/color] Masako called to the tall woman, jogging to catch up to her brisk pace. [color=indianred]”I have a request! I'll give you all my gold if you accompany me as a guard to the northern kingdom!”[/color]

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[@damiann47]