Party girls don't get hurt when you can't feel anything. Used to be the one for a good time call when Shao Kahn horde's put them back across Outworld's taverns and we the world's mess swirled in the glass, tucked down our throats until we could fly.
Tonight, I won't look down, but keep my glass full for the night. There's a man that needs me in the streets of this broken city before the sun is up and we all run into this mess. An old cloak and hood, earth-tone cream dress and low cut shoes to blend into the crowd that lives day by day to hold on for dear life.
The castle far behind, the city around my eyes and the people could feel the love of war in their hearts. Politics raised my city like the Naknada did the villages that could not pay Shao Kahn his blood money. The moon's purple haze filtered my gaze through the dirty streets toward the merchant's quarter where stone met earth and the buildings began to squish tighter to hide those dark alleys, to stop monsters that would cross through them to snatch you in the night.
A particular tavern lead me through the streets of the Garden Quarter, built under my rule, and now burned to the ground by Shao Kahn and Kotal Kahn supporters. Bless their traitorous hearts, Elder Gods.
Where do you go when you can only hold on for a night to your sanity, and wish to lose it all the same?
Cho's.
Named after the famous Outworlder that has chosen this tavern has his go to home from home. Bo' Rai Cho. Not his tavern, but as their best customer, why not give him that honor?
Somehow, as I entered, my hands covered in brown goatskin gloves, and arms covered in dirty cream sleeves to hide that smooth royal flesh and my face covered by a blue cotton cloth around like most that did not want to pick up the illness that carried through the stale air, I didn't see any honor within this tavern tonight. Only peasantry and shame.
This tavern was not big. Most buildings in the city weren't, as Outworld was not a big financial hub of the realms, and most money got filtered back into the champions that travelled rather than stayed. It was of modest size, however, eight tables and a good bar to get some of the best ale in the Garden Quarter.
Tonight wasn't busy, some men circled with a Tarkatan. The sight of that humanoid reminded me that Baraka had lost is life in the battle of the coliseum. Since the loss of Baraka, there has been unrest with the Tarkatans and their trust in me has shaken. They've remained under my thumb only because of their hatred of the Osh-Tekk and Centaurs.
Ahead, as I stepped along the old wooden floor through this twenty by thirty tavern to the bar where a large robust man sat, a Naknada watched me with careful eyes, also hidden in a shroud. That race still followed the word of Shao Kahn, even after his fall and my reign began. It's been so difficult to keep them under control as they are the masters of their trade. What is this one? It doesn't matter tonight.
"Sir Bo' Rai Cho?" My voice was soft spoken and lowly behind him to maintain the presence of a peasant.
The loud wet clank of a glass slammed down on water stained wood followed my approach. The tavern maid took that as a sign to refill immediately and he rotated around to take the sign of my approach as a way to discover whom would try to speak with him.
"Come sit, Kitana." He spoke low.
Even drunk, he could not be fooled.
"There are spies here, you may best stay hidden." He nudged a stool near.
"Thank you." A quick whisper and low bow to pay great deference to the famous Bo' Rai Cho as I took the seat he offered.
There was a time when the people would look at me the way he looked at a full glass of ale. He gulped it down in nearly a single swallow and slammed it back down as hard as the last time.
"Why are you here?" He asked, his voice coarse and guttural with gas that bubbled back up from his stomach.
"I haven't seen you in a while. I've been worried."
"I haven't reported in, you mean?"
"That too."
He glanced down at me, those old wise eyes narrowed and his lips pressed tight before another, quicker swig of ale. This time, he let the glass over under his bottom lip, tucked just along his beard and glanced down at it, pensive.
"You shout out orders, but I can't hear a single word you say." He let fall into the foam.
"You chose to stand behind me."
"I chose to stand behind Outworld. I fight for the realm, not for its ruler."
"That's treason, Bo' Rai Cho."
"I might argue that anyone that tries to conquer the realm and make it their own is treason."
"I've only wanted the best for Outworld."
"That may be how it started, little Kit, but we're fighting your war now."
This man I revered and looked up to, even as a child under Shao Kahn, could he truly have been so far away from me that he is actually a man I've never known before? Has this face been my own projection and not the real Bo' Rai Cho?
"Who are you right now?"
"Kit, you sent the Shokan to another continent to wipe out Kotal Ka–"
"Ko'atal. He is not the Kahnum of Outworld."
"Kotal Kahn is as much a leader of Outworld as you are." He added after another swallow to empty the stein. "You all use the citizens as your pawns for war in this useless game of Chess as the realm itself suffers so you can feel more important. You're both idiots."
"What would you do?" This gave him pause. My instinct would be to ask him what to do about a difficult situation, or struggle I felt with someone else. This time it is with him. If he knew best for the realm, then tell me.
It took him a moment to answer and in the that moment of pause, my eyes scanned past the hood toward the rest of the tavern. The Naknada had left, but the tarlatan and two men were still present. My eyes scanned back over to him to find his answer.
Bo' Rai Cho snickered under his breath and drank again.
"Kotal Kahn is the least of your worries, Kit."
His words fell into the hollow glass as the slam of the tavern doors echoed the wooden walls. Three large Nakanda entered, the hooded one behind them. The three guests immediately grasped in those strong arms and thrown out. The bar maid took this as a sign to make her exit, with a nod from Bo' Rai Cho and few coins slipped over the counter, she swiped it and ran toward the back which exited into a small alley.
"This your doing?" My eyes scanned is for betrayal, but that grin maintained, perhaps drunken, but instead of a response, I watched him slip off his stool and approach the three Naknada.
"What's your names?"
"The Assassins."
"So, two asses and two others in here also about to get their's kicked. It's treason to attack the Queen."
The tension burst as the Naknada pulled daggers from their leather belts and charged the famous Bo' Rai Cho. My cloak dropped and beneath the skirt of my dress were my fans tied to my outer thighs. Here we are, still fighting for peace.
With six arms, the three are quite formidable, but Bo' Rai Cho's drunken style was still a loose and slippery grasp for them. As he danced around and spun to avoid them in an almost pacifistic manner, never aimed, nor ever touched the enemy, I watched as his face turned a pale green and knew to move away from the scene as all that ale came back up to spill at the feet of the assassins.
One slipped down and then Bo' Rai Cho's foot came down on the dagger hand and the other on the Naknada's throat to crunch it in with a hollow crack. From that position he dodged a swipe and lunge, just as it were my time to enter the fray.
"You are not to be harmed, Bo' Rai Cho, only the Queen." The hooded Naknada pushed passed them toward me and from his heavy linen robes pulled forth a long sword, for each hand that faced me. Behind him in those scrawny feeler hands could be anything.
"You think I haven't trained under the Shokan?" The witty banter part of the fight had begun.
"For a queen, you've been reduced to only two fans?"
The metal dangers of my fan spread and guarded my core from the swords that came in with arched strikes from above and below.
He had begun to push me toward the bar. Despite not a single scratch passed these strong fans, I could not advance. The other two Naknada had also grappled Bo' Rai Cho and the struggle for control leaned toward them with each strike.
"Who sent you?"
This was met with silence. He was an assassin, not a villain.
My body couldn't duck, he'd strike down, it couldn't raise, he'd swipe my legs. My sides and front were blocked with each one-through-eight strike and step-drag forward with those massive legs, but now the bar pressed into my back and those swords pressed closer.
A quick glimpse behind the hooded Naknada, Bo' Rai Cho had escaped one and pushed the other into the a table against the right wall. His arm was a deep shade of red, but he moved swift for an injured drunkard. The one behind him pilfered the dagger of the fallen assassin, a quick gesture that would have otherwise given Bo' Rai Cho a chance to strike, but with six more arms in front of him, he was occupied.
He pulled back up and charged toward me, rather than the robust distraction for his ally. Bo' Rai Cho grabbed on of the arms and curved the large body of the assassin over his back onto the ground and then jumped down on him with full weight pressed down on the chest and neck. It wouldn't kill him, but it would definitely hurt.
My back arched against the bar's edge and began to cut into the cloth, then cracked my bones with the stretch. With four swords aimed down and the my fans now rendered useless as two arms behind him reached out from the heavy cloth to hold my wrists. It seemed that Bo' Rai Cho was right. Kotal Kahn, in this moment, was not my enemy.
"Strike her down." The other approached with his dagger ready to slit my throat should the other be too slow to impale my core.
Our eyes met. That goblinesque face grit its teeth in a bluish black grin that wormed out from its sharp, discolored teeth. It enjoyed what it saw in my eyes. It enjoyed the feel of it's grotesque bulge pressed between my waist, and took in the moment I had accepted my fate as its greatest moment of conquest and pleasure. Too slow for the other as it reached in with the dagger to slit my throat.
The metal wasn't sharp. It was shaped like a mortal seax, pointed edge, but curved down to blunt ends. This meant the cut would be deep and messy.
Unseen as we stared into each other's eyes, the dagger was torn away in the microcosm of a second in a flash of light. The Assassin turned away for just a split second after as a white mass formed behind the counter. The other on the floor had been crushed by Bo' Rai Cho, and the assassin shot toward him captured by the drunkard to slit his throat with the other's weapon.
"I don't think so." Had I heard Raiden's voice fill my head? A shot of lightning pierced through the chest of the Assassin, straight through his heavy linen and leather coverings to spiral and course through his veins and skeletal system. Electricity arched from sword tip to sword tip as his arms raised in shock and pain. His body pulled off mine and convulsed as its whole nervous system was fried.
My breath caught in my chest and my back slipped down from the counter to my knees that cracked against the floor and body beneath me. The fans fallen from my hands and mask torn to breath the stale air around us. Raiden's hand lowered to my view and my hand reached out to accept his support, except it wasn't Raiden.
"Liu Kang?"
That bright light, a mixture of the lightning imbued within him and the fire that became him. A glance down showed the Naknada Bo' Rai Cho had caught had a scorched hole that burned through the body like lava that peered out into the world only to blacken and cool at the edges of the creature's flesh.
"I was about to save her." Bo' Rai Cho quipped and caught out attention.
What do you say? What do you do? Perhaps the most important answer is who these fools followed.
"Kotal Kahn?" My suggestion was shaken off by Liu and Bo' Rai Cho.
"Kotal Kahn would fight you face to face, not stab you behind the back." Bo' Rai Cho answered.
"Who do we know that strikes from the shadows?" Liu Kang stared into my eyes, the answer shared between us without a word.