Kettu the Skin-Changer

archer-of-durin:

The behemoth and Kíli slammed into each other, the Dwarf’s sword parrying the filth-ridden claws the wished to rake his flesh from bone; the Goblin snarled and snapped its jaws at the bowman’s face sending rivulets of slobber all over the poor Dwarf as he fought to keep the villain at bay. The massive weight of the giant was beginning to take its toll, forcing the archer towards the floor. The youth’s heart started to pound wildly in his chest, if the Goblin pinned him there would be no surviving the attacks to come for the Dwarf’s exposed face and throat would be vulnerable.

Closer and closer to the floor the behemoth pushed, the poor prince fought to heave the creature back but to no avail. The Goblin’s lips peeled back across its crooked teeth, spilling fetid breath onto the prince as the creature tasted sweet victory on the tip of its tongue. A pang of pain shot through Kíli’s arm as the behemoth forced his arm at an odd angle, the Dwarf let out a cry, his elbow buckling under the weight.

A flash of red shot across the open air, slamming into the Goblin and knocking the fiend away. Kíli dropped to the floor, no longer having anything keeping him balanced in his unusual position. The bowman cringed as his arm popped from being abused in its strange position. Groaning the Dwarf turned back to the Goblin to see a large fox thrashing the fiend’s features. Instinctively, Kíli threw back his head to look at the spot Kettu had been moments before; only the corpses could be seen, not a single sign of the woman as far as Kíli could see and although one would assumed she had fled, the Dwarf’s heart told him otherwise.

His surprised gaze turned back to fight happening before him; Kettu had stated she was no fighter and yet there she was, in another form, savagely fighting back the large creature. Not wasting another second, the Dwarf pulled himself to back on two legs using his sword to keep from toppling over.

When the Goblin finally got the fox off and away, it was far too late for it to counter the oncoming slash of Dwarven steel; the blade sliced right through the soft belly, spilling out a waterfall of guts and gore. The creature squealed and clutched at its innards, stupidly trying to stuff them back in.  The fight was over then, the panicky creature was too busy dying and trying to stuff itself to give the fox and Dwarf any further thought.

Grinning and panting, Kíli turned now to the whimpering whelp behind the boulder; it yelped when it saw the bowman’s eyes focus on it and scurried off in hopes of escape. The Dwarf charged after the squealing Goblin, longer legs quickly gaining ground on the futile creature; the bowman launched himself into the air and pounced on the shrieking fiend.

“Let go! Let go!” it screamed, as if Kíli would obey.

“Not until you answer my questions!” the Durin barked back. He peered over his shoulder, worried now if the fox was hurt. He turned back to the squirming creature, putting more pressure on the thing’s brittle bones. “I want to know what business you have with the belongings on my lady red.”

**

Seeing that Kili had the last of the goblins under control, and was questioning it, Kettu turned and bound over to the little sparkle she had spotted earlier. Nosing around in a dead goblin’s hand, she picked up her stolen pendant in her mouth, taking a few moments to clumsily toss the string around her neck before letting to, allowing it to hang, glinting against her fur. 

She paused once to test her weight once more on a forepaw, feeling it was sore, but nothing more than a little sprain, or perhaps a bruised bone. It wouldn’t cause her any trouble. Lifting it to her mouth, she gave it a quick nibbling to be sure. It did little more than ache. Setting it on the ground again, she hoped her dwarven companion was just as well as she. Of course, she would have liked to call out and ask him such, but at the present time, her vocal range was not capable of that sort of speech. And she doubted he would understand her vulpine vocabulary.

That done, she trotted over to Kili’s side, turning her gaze on the goblin, and snarling with more malice and viciousness than she felt capable of, as though she blamed the whole ordeal on that particular goblin. Though really she just wanted something to vent on.

Briefly her ears swiveled in every direction possible for them, listening for unusual sounds. Instead she could hear some chattering of birds and squirrels, all of them feeling braver now that the fighting had seemingly come to an end. Mentally the fox woman scoffed at the varied complaints she heard, loving her animal friends, but always vexed by their narrow mindedness. They only cared what affected their own little world. Though much could be said about many of the “speaking” races of Middle-Earth. 

The little goblin looked ready to die from sheer terror at the dwarf. “Nothin’, nothin’! Not ‘gainst her! Just business! Business! Only wanted the little necklace. Just that!” It licked it’s lips nervously, eyeing the aforementioned piece of jewelry on the fox. “Wanted it for it’s spell… The skin changer knows that. She does. Didn’t tell you, huh? Not trustin’ you, is she? Ha! Little witch!”

He laughed wickedly when Kettu snarled and stepped closer to him, already figuring himself for dead. “Little witch, and a wizard’s whor—” 

The goblin was cut off by a bite to the face, and it shrieked, regretting making up that last insult. Maybe cowardice had it’s perks. He should have run faster.

(Source: misskitkettu)

archer-of-durin asked: [EEEEEEEEEEP!!! You're feeling better <3? How is everything?]

[Yes I am! Muchly so. Amazing how much a little good old fashioned gardening can do! Things are good, but strangely busy. Lol. I’m killing plants! (I wish I had a greenthumb like Kettu…) But it’s keeping me busy pretending I can grow things. Totally helped with my down-feeling and listlessness. Which in turn helps a lot with how well I feel in general. :D  ]

archer-of-durin:

The behemoth and Kíli were staring each other down, both sizing up their foe for they were aware of respective advantages. The Goblin had size and strength, the prince had agility and skills. So whose advantages were the greater, that would be the deciding factor in their battle and how it would play out was to be decided in a matter of heartbeats.

“Kíli!”

That brought the Dwarf’s focus away from his opponent for a split second giving the Goblin yet another gain. Before the bowman could recognize Kettu’s purpose, the beast lunged at him claws raking. The Durin barely had time to lift his sword in parry, he grunted as the behemoth’s  weight forced the defender backwards. The cretin behind the boulder squealed with delight, jumping up and down and clapping his mangled mitts.

Kettu called out once more, “Do you live?”

“Not for long he will!” the craven coward bleated, cheering wildly. 

The Dwarf growled, trying to push the Goblin back but its weight was overwhelming, pressing the poor prince to the ground. Grinding his teeth with the effort, the bowman held off the beast whilst finding his center of gravity. Once Kíli was sure of his stability, he kicked out striking the Goblin the crotch. It shrieked and launched backwards, claws clutching the wounded area. 

That was the wonderful thing about Dwarven craft, from boots to architecture, it was hardy and as tough as its makers and from the sounds the creature was making you’d think Kíli’s kick knocked something of great value loose.

With his opponent incapacitated, the prince slashed out with a hungry blade. He spotted the woman’s dire, seemingly trapped beneath the now dead Man. “Alive and well, friend Kettu. Can I continue to say the same of you?” the archer shouted before charging at the bouncing Goblin, teeth bared in a confident snarl.

The beast had recovered some though its yellowed eyes were still watery. It lashed out, claws raking for the Dwarf’s face, it could make out Kíli’s shape but with no depth perception or ability to make out detail those efforts fell in vain. With a swing of steel, the Goblin screamed and blood sprouted like a flower from the severed nub that now took the place of what was once a hand.

Blood loss and one hand short would surely make fighting a bit more difficult but it gave the Goblin more resolve to see his defacer dead. Roaring in a mixture of anger and agony, the beast made an oath to himself and cursed the Dwarf. If the behemoth was to fall this day, then the bowman would die as well.

*

“I’m unhurt!” Kettu called out reassuringly. With a little wriggling and yanking of hair got sight of Kili again. “Take him down, dear dwarf!” She shouted with much encouragement and confidence.  Clinging to the  Looking around again, she spotted something familiar and sparkling in the hands of a corpse near where Kili and the goblin fought. A trump card!

Ducking her head down, she reached up for the sword, gripping the hilt tightly with both hands. From there she was able to pull her legs up, freeing her skirt from the dead man’s boot, and put her feet against his body. She huffed out an irritated breath before taking a deep one, and pushing as hard as she could. 

It started to work. First the man’s arm slipped from the blade and swung limply down, then he started to buckle at the waist. His chin came down and caught Kettu on the head, and knocked her feet down again. She collapsed, quite ungracefully with the corpse, only dangling by the thick strand of fire red curls pinned by the sword. That was uncomfortable, but she was quiet. Now she could see everything, and her eyes were riveted on Kili, her expression worried.

Glancing down, she saw her dagger was no longer in arms reach, and she couldn’t pull the sword out. Biting her lip for a moment she gave a small shrug in response to a private thought.

After a moment, her form began to shrink, and her joints making popping sounds as they shifted and changed. Her hands curled before reforming into paws, as did her feet. Her back arched and her spine extended quickly into a tail, fur blossoming along it’s length. All over her body, her skin began to itch maddeningly, as fur rippled across it. Sharp teeth and fangs exploded into her mouth while her jaws extended into muzzle.

And still she shrunk, until nothing more than a somewhat large red fox darted it’s way out from under the skirt of the discarded dress. It seemed a normal fox, if a little larger and heavier built, as though it was a compromise between the fox and the human. 

Ears pitched forward, Kettu growled low and menacing. There was no natural place in her view of her world for these foul creatures. Even quicker and fiercer now, she knew she was no match for this goblin. But she also knew she had to try her best.

As fast as her four legs would carry her, the woman-turned-fox raced toward the goblin, leaping up from the grasses, towards it’s face. Her teeth gnashed and she felt skin tear beneath them, the sickening taste of blood in her mouth. Horrible foul blood, tainted and dark. 

Twisting her body she avoided most of the creature’s instinctive reaction to swipe at her, even with an arm bearing a stumpy wrist. She did yelp, mostly in surprise, and lost her footing at the landing, but she tumbled to the ground relatively unhurt. Bruises were easy to deal with later. She rose and growled as intimidating as she could muster, her green gold eyes glaring (as much as a fox can glare) at the goblin.

In all honesty, though, she currently wanted to go heave behind a bush somewhere. This was all far beyond her comfort and skill. 

(Source: misskitkettu)

archer-of-durin:

The foreboding thrum of a bowstring ricocheted through the air; for a moment the Goblin archer was confused, he had not fired, he was sure of it for his arrow was still notched. That’s when the being felt the trickling warmth sliding down from his mid throat to down his bare chest. The creature dropped his rotted bow and clutched the wound; from the corner of yellowed eyes, the Goblin spotted his doombringer. The creature would have hissed and cursed, wishing for all ill to fall upon the young Dwarf grinning triumphantly as the youth approached from hidden thicket but the foul thing only had thoughts for the arrow protruding from the windpipe. Before the Goblin to growl out an utterance of protest at his fate, the creature fell back onto the moist earth, never to rise again.

Kíli’s grinning didn’t last long after his opponent came to rest; sinister cries rang out from Kettu’s direction, signaling that she had been discovered. The Dwarf cared not for the words, though what his mind did manage to piece together only fueled his passion, and dropped his bow. The weapon would do him no good, what his employer needed was a diversion to bring the attention from her to him. The reckless bowman deemed himself fit enough for such peril and thusly pulled his sword from its sheath.

Before the remaining Goblins became aware of their fellow’s end, the furious Durin charged from the verdance, waving his blade before him with both hands a-grasped upon the hilt. The smallest of the trio fell back, squealing in agony as if it had already been stricken; the braver Goblins went to meet Kíli, their own weapons at the ready with eager wagging. Goblins were taller than Dwarves though not by some grand scale but still, the gained height gave the creatures a confidence they lacked when battling against bigger races such as Men or Elves.  

Swinging their weapons with little tact, the Goblins advanced on Kíli who deftly retaliated by either a dodge, parry, or threatening swing of his own. By this way the archer was able to keep his opponents at bay, the fact that they were getting violently frustrated with themselves and each other was a sure enough bonus. The one with too many teeth balked as he jumped back, Kíli’s sword just barely missing his belly. A toothy scowl overtook the distorted face as the creature howled angrily.

From behind, the littlest Goblin jumped up and down anxiously, pointing at Kíli. “Get it! Get it! Smash its head, rip out his liver, cut out his eyes! Don’t leave him alive!”

The little beast knew his doom would come if his fellow’s failed so knobby legs constantly edged back away from the fight, slinking to various hiding spots; the hope was to escape if the woman and her Dwarven companion came out the victors but between the pair of behemoths and a cruel hearted git, the daft little Goblin believed his life secured. 

The ring of steel against steel rang out as Many Teeth and the Durin prince dueled; given the fact that Kíli had to be offensive with one Goblin, but defensive at the same time given the giant creature that haunted their battle, he was holding his own rather well. Always had Dwarves battled Goblins for both races claimed home within the mountains dark; now it seemed instinctual within them both how to fight the other. 

Many Teeth feigned a slash aimed at the midsection and Kíli, growing confident, fell for it; as the Dwarf moved to parry the cut, the Goblin jabbed at the bowman’s throat. The dark haired youth grunted as he fell back to avoid the tactic and slammed into the torso of the behemoth. The giant brought down his own weapon and if the Dwarf hadn’t thrown himself to the side it would have been a perfect cut down the middle.

Kíli had not even a second to be thankful he was whole for Many Teeth lunged at him, weapon held aloft. With a savage roar, the downed bowman thrusted his sword upwards as a rebuttal. The cruel-faced Goblin was too late to stop his descent when he saw the Dwarven blade; Kíli’s lips curled back in a ferocious grimace as the weight of the impaled Goblin drove him to stay on the ground. Many Teeth looked down at the blamed for a moment in disbelief till the sudden ripping of his flesh caused blood and guts to spill forth, sending the being into darkness.

As the bowman was splashed with Goblin innards, the little creature yelped and drew himself behind a rock. “Get it! Get it! Smash its head into the rocks, shatter its bone, peel off its skin while it still breathes! Revenge, revenge!” the twisted thing cried out, all easy to say since it was huddled behind a boulder rather than facing the Goblin-foe.

“Argh!” the archer shoved the side and retrieved his blade. The youth spun to face his next opponent, an excited smile parting his lips; the Dwarf twirled his blade in a playful manner, exuding confidence well earned, before lifting it up and pointing the tip towards the greatest Goblin.

“Apologies, friends, I seem to have intruded upon your meal.”

***

The man turned to look over his shoulder at the goblins he had come to meet. This was not at all as he had planned things. “FOOLS!” He bellowed, “KILL TH’ DWARF!” His voice sounded frustrated, for how could a pack of goblins not take down a single dwarf? “Must I do ever’thing myself?” Before he finished speaking, his hand drew out a time worn dagger, the length of his forearm. “Imbeciles!” He didn’t turn to fight, instead he gave a shout, and a gasp as a sharp pain exploded in his chest, lacing across his torso.

Looking down, he snarled, seeing Kettu’s much smaller dagger sunk deep into his chest. From the feel of it, it was quite near his heart, but it beat still and he drew breath still. “You little-!” Slamming his dagger into the tree, he mentally cursed when it missed Kettu’s head, instead pinning some of her hair to the tree. It did make her scream in terror, which drew a sick grin onto his face, and he watched his own blood trickle down onto hers.

Kettu struggled again, but she had lost the grip on her dagger hilt. Hopefully it had done it’s job. The small woman struggled and tried to shove against him, to little avail. She did get her head around him, and saw a quick glimpse of Kili, assuring herself that he was alive and fighting. 

Feeling a hand grip her hair she gasped and looked up at the tall man. He was fading, a slow sort of death, and she felt ill seeing it. The grip he held her hair in never loosened, even as he slumped against the tree, his head hitting it, and his arm hooked over his dagger, supporting him. She whimpered as the fresh corpse pinned her against the tree. 

Blinking her eyes against blood that was not her own, she struggled to peer out again, though she had very little wiggle room. Her hands scrabbled against the body, trying to find purchase. Instead she got her fingers tangled in the strings of a coin pouch. There was a very brief pause and she looked up towards the sky. He wouldn’t need it, after all, not anymore. A quick tug relieved the body of his coin, and she continued her attempts to push him off of her. Then she noticed he was standing on the hem of her dress too, quite solidly.

Well this was pathetic. She couldn’t see beyond horrifying man face, and she couldn’t tell if Kili was still alright.

“Kili!” She called out in a wavering voice. “Do you live?!”

(Source: misskitkettu)

tbh i saw a roleplay advice post with over four hundred notes. i didn’t even know that four hundred people roleplayed. i’m just terribly curious to see how many people are actively roleplaying at this current moment in time. 

(Source: selenatoldrp, via coats-sneakers-and-time-travel)

lovesickpitch:

sexiipup94:

(Source: queen-of-rotten-teeth, via bofurthekind)

xion-and-road:

sasukeroadtoninja:

* raises hand

(Source: biteoverbarkxx, via bofurthekind)

quitepossiblyillegal:

To add: 

This is sign language. Sign language, though some think it is simple, is intricate and complex. 

The symbols being used here are tentatively thought to mean ‘journey’ ‘lock break/break in/burglar” 

This was developed for use in loud forges. Remember the part where all those hammers are ringing in the very beginning? It’s loud as balls. Or when working in a mine, say shoring up the walls when you honestly feel like loud acoustics can damage the structural integrity of your mine. [Trust me, it’s just as possible as a avalanche.] Or say that you don’t know if this new mine has orcs in it, so you can’t be loud. You would use this. While there are different dialects, all dwarves know this. 

Bifur is not stupid guys. Thorin would not set out to reclaim his home and add someone who he thought wasn’t smart enough to do what needed to be done just to appease the Ur Family, who aren’t even dwarves of Erebor, they came from Moria. Bifur would not be allowed to come if he was mentally handicapped to the degree that he is being portrayed in the fandom. 

(via archer-of-durin)