Setting: East Gallery and Hallway, will likely move through the house.
Time: Night 003; after the ghosts begin to multiply.
Summary: Nataku has taken up a post defending the third floor bedrooms from the onslaught in hopes of creating a safe place for people, unaware that the hauntings upstairs have resumed, too.
Warnings: Violence. Lots of violence. My attempts at writing Nataku in all his war god glory. There be fighting in this thread, yo!
He was moving on auto-pilot in a dance he was all too familiar with. Sword blazing behind him as he moved in a manner almost too graceful for one such as he. Power seemed to almost shine from him.
He was the War Prince, the Assassin of the Gods, the Killing Puppet--this was what he was made for. This adrenaline in his veins, the singing of his blade as it went through his opponents' flesh. In this state of mind it was all he could focus on: the battle. The adrenaline. Food did not matter to him and these opponents fell so easily to him that he wasn't fatigued in the slightest. The only difference between his opponents now and the ones he had before coming here was that he was doing this to protect people, to protect anyone who sought refuge in the bedrooms and attic beyond him. It was a difference that made his blade seem lighter, seemed to sharpen his focus.
For the first time in his life, he felt the urge to protect and it was glorious.