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[Locke Cole]

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Locke punched the man again. Blood did not pour out of his mouth this time... Perhaps that was because he didn't have much left. The majority of it was all over the floor of the abandoned house Locke had chosen for his 'interrogation'.

"Now, one more time..," Locke said, his eyes glowing a bright red. "Who sent you, and what style of fighting was that!?" Locke rarely invoked enough anger to set off his faint drow lineage into a frenzy, but his anger was boiling over, and he could no longer control the trait in his eyes. The man had laughed at the pain at first, but had now grown silent when he saw how hopeless his situation was.

The main was tied very skillfully to the back of a stone chair. He sat against its back on the floor, in a puddle of blood splattered in random directions from Locke punching his face.

Locke was on one knee in front of him, in order to line up his punches as good as possible. Locke was about to swing, when he froze instantly. Suddenly Locke melded with the shadows, as the other stealther warrior lunged at him from behind. Locke pounced at the mans ankles, tripping him flat on his face, his weapons nearly missing his tied-up comrades leg.

Quicker than his attacker could react, Locke drove his double bladed staff directly into the attackers spine. Locke stared fiercely at the man that was tied up. His eyes returning to normal, Locke said, "Now, tell me, or the other end of this staff will be in you."

The man who had endured hours of punching... began to weep. "S...sensei..." he said, staring at the dead man in front of him. The man looked up to Locke, still crying. "One that c...could... kill my sensei... my teacher... is worthy... but I ask of you one thing in exchange for this information..." Locke stood up. "Send me to my bitter end so I can be with my father," the man said, glancing down at his dead comrade. "And... the clean death of a warrior, even though one such as me may not deserve it."

Locke untied him. The man pulled out a silvery book of ninjitsu, and tossed it in front of Locke. He leaned forward on his knees slightly. With expert aim, Locke stabbed the man in the same fashon as the first.

"I believe it is time for a little... updating," Locke said. He quickly looked at the odd style of weapons the men carried that nearly killed him, then glanced to his own staff. His weaponry was meant for speed, combined with the lethal power of his Magery, but not as powerful or unique as what those men carried. "Sorry Dymm... But its not like you have anything for me right now anyways. I'll be back," he said, as if Dymm Crowley himself was the blade he carried. Plunging the blade deep into the wooden floor of the house, he quickly picked up samples of his attackers' weapons, and small smoke bombs, as well as the silver book. He melded with the shadows, to go on his 'vacation' of retraining.
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