Kyo

Kyo awoke slowly. His head felt fuzzy and disconnected as he looked around the room where he was being held. From where he was, he had a particularly awesome view of the domed rock that formed the ceiling. He noted that it was brown, bumpy, and wet looking. Taking a deep breath, he tried sitting up. He would have succeded had it not been for the manacles holding him to the table. Glancing down his arm to his wrist, he saw that there was no way for him to slip out of the circlet of steel. He also noticed several other things. The least was that his ankles were also bound. The second and third thing that registered was his general lack of clothing and the presence of a female being in the room. All that saved his dignity was a loincloth type article of clothing around his waist, and the presence female...Human? Demon?...hard to say, was definitely not a good thing. She wore, predictably, a white lab coat and carried a clipboard. She walked over to the side of his table and leaned down over him, making random arbitrary marks on her paper.

"So subject 16285HM, how are we feeling?" She asked. Kyo blinked, staring at her blankly, trying decided how best to answer her.

"Well lets see, "he started, "I'm chained to a table, stripped of everthing that I own, including my name, ripped from my home and probably going to end up tortured...how do you expect me to feel?!"

Eerily, all the response he got was her nodding and writing his response down. Pulling a syringe from her pocket, she jabbed it into his arm.

"Hey wh-what was thu-tha-that?" he slurred, as the drug took effect and slipped him into a dreamless painless void.

Rakayla

Slowly, Rakayla opened her eyes. Standing over her were the younger warriors and some of the Elders. All had sooty faces and pained expressions. One of the Elders, she recognized him as the Councilator of Battle, helped her up. Drawing his ceremonial staff, he said a few short, bitter words.

"Rakayla, this has come early for you, but is needed, as of late. Your style of combat and thinking is that of the Prairie Hawk. When you see the enemy, you shall, with your speed and prowess, strike them down where they stand as a bolt of lightning. Hover above this mess, my child, and when you find the twisted brain of it, smite him with your ever-reaching claws. You have been dubbed 'Sweeping Falcon's Eye', called Falcon." He bowed shortly to her, and she mimed his motion, emotions flooding her.

"Where's Kyo at?" She asked, rather stupidly. The other warriors shared guilty glances. One she knew as Wolf answered.

"The Demons have him, so he's probably dead. I'm sorry."

Falcon glared at Wolf then punched him in the mouth. Angrily, she stalked over to a guardhouse and started stripping the dead bodies of their weapons. Finally, she had two katanas that didn't match, six brace of daggers, a hefty baton, and a naginata. Determinedly, she turned back to the cluster of youthful warriors; face pale, jaw set, and tears swimming in her eyes.

"Well...? Are you pansies gonna sit here on your asses all day and wait for the Demons to come back for you? I'm not. I'm going to get my friends back or die trying. Either you come with me or go with the Demons, its not my call how you get to Ragnorac."

The five younger fighters looked at each other.

"Well," one started "Darting Kitfox will go with you, Sweeping Falcon's Eye."

"As will Fleeting Stallion." Said another.

"Don't forget me, Leopard's Tears."

"Or us," the last two chorused, a pair of twins "Dancing Cheetah and Raven Call."

Falcon gnashed her teeth as she nodded; glad to have swayed them all, yet impatient at the formalities that were wasting time.

"Good. Get your gear and follow me then."