Shadow Samurai

[KageKaioh]

Plot

• 
  
  For generations, the Soragawa clan has taken great care in ruling over the people of Yakuz, earning them high esteem in the eyes of the Shogunate, as well as those living in the region. A key part of the Soragawa's successful reign is their loyal army, made up of skilled and fearless warriors. At the top of these ranks are the Daimyo's personal military attendants, his most trusted samurai. Though these samurai come from far and wide, they are the best, and serve their Lord faithfully.
  
  However, the peaceful ruling is in danger, as rumors of a terrible plot to end the Daimyo's life have reached the ear of his most trusted men. Their only goal now is to root out this assassin and protect their lord, no matter what obstacles may fall in their path. However, fate is a cruel mistress like no other; the dastardly plans have wrenched all power from them. Can these men and women of honour bring themselves to do what no samurai should in order to save their Lord?​
  ​

 

[KageKaioh]

Introduction

Like a shadow over the polished wood and fine screen walls, a golden-white form drifted silently. Akin to wisp or cloud, its mass shifted and changed as it glided over the still compound, otherworldly and beautiful. It moved with a purpose, slipping around doors and through minute cracks in the wall until it reached its destination.

Below it now lie the sleeping form of a great warrior, peaceful and unaware as the fog coalesced; twisting and turning as it fell back into its natural form. As silky fur and sinuous muscle stretched and become whole, the fox-like creature stepped forward with a dainty paw, orange eyes staring intently as six tails waved gently. She reached into the sleeping man's mind, the mental link barely enough to stir him.

Dreams did not come easy to Ike Michihiro, but tonight was a different night- In a slow fuzz, like heat wavering on the horizon, a picture began to form. The dream was so vivid and real, nearly too much so; unveiling before his closed eyes, forming in his mind. His body stayed still, letting the Kitsune drift into his thoughts, into his slumbering mind

In this dreamscape, the warrior would be met by a stunning woman in decadent silks. Every detail of her appearance appealing to his every desire as she stood before him, red lips twisted with worry as tears wet her strange eyes.

"Hear me, Samurai- I come to you in a time of need."

Ike blinked as the voice called out, almost echoing in his ears. He looked around, his mind blank on how he got to this location and why he was dressed for war. In his confusion, he could only wonder. He then looked to the weeping woman, concern mixing with the uncertainty written across his features. "What is wrong? Why are you crying?" His voice rang out, alien and distant. He could barely register that it was his own... It felt more like he was watching his own body converse with the woman, and all he could do was listen.


"I am afraid." She said, daintily lifting a finger to wipe away the thin stream below her eye. "There... there is someone after me- I am so afraid!" She choked, coughing demurely before raising her eyes to meet his. Her hand clutched her exquisite silk kimono, which was in perfect disarray; the collar having become misaligned just enough for a tantalizing glimpse of skin. "Please... please help me!"

She ran towards him, tripping into his arms and grasping at his lacquered armor as a river of raven hair fell about her in a carelessly seductive way. "Brave Samurai, I beg of you, protect me from him." She pleaded, locking her amber gaze with his. She pushed her power to fog his mind further, slowly bending him to her will with the deft skill of her kind.

His reactions were slow, like his mind couldn't register that any of this was happening. It was almost like he knew he was in a dream, but it was so real that the thought faded away. His mind focused back onto the crying woman in front of him. The amber eyes, the way she spoke and how it seemed to echo and corrupt... something wasn't right, but he couldn't tell what- her dark magics swaying his better judgement.

"What is wrong? Who is trying to harm you?" He answered, his voice once again sounding strange. Something certainly was not right, he knew it. Though his mind grew foggier, he began to subconsciously struggle against the charm of the woman and the magic she was weaving. It seemed he would not so easily submit to the powers of the Kitsune.

Outside of the dreamscape, the vixen narrowed her eyes slightly as she felt the samurai slipping from her already precarious grip. Her tails flicked in annoyance as she focused her power further. A golden haze started to fill the room as she manipulated his senses further. He would not yield readily, but she would not give up readily either.

Within Ike's mind, the beautiful woman let out a soft sob and pressed her delicate face into his chest. She stayed that way for a few moments, letting her magic seep into his consciousness further before speaking again. Gripping his armour tightly, she turned her head up once more, unblinking eyes staring into his.

"Soragawa Haruyasu..." She said, voice more commanding than before as she sent another powerful wave of manipulating energy into him. "He has done great wrongs, and is no longer fit for his position. You must kill Soragawa Haruyasu."

He listened, his arms hesitantly wrapping around the mysterious female as her words slowly reached his ears. Still, a part of him resisted. It was almost like he was drugged and his mind was taking forever to understand this. His body relaxed, and the woman smiled as she felt her grasp on him starting to strengthen. However, just as she was about to claim complete control, his mind snapped into alertness and he suddenly pulled away from her. His hand instantly flew to the hilt of his blade and he fell into a perfect stance.

"Who are you!" He demanded- he knew now that she was some from of sorcerer, she had to be, to bewitch him so. He would not be persuaded by petty magics to make him abandon his Lord.

The fox gave a low hiss as her control suddenly snapped. Fighting to maintain a presence in his mind, her form shifted once again, shrinking and contorting into something small, fast and many-legged. The yellow-hued centipede swiftly crawled away, climbing up a wall to hide in the wooden beams of the ceiling. There she watched as the Samurai stirred, cursing herself for not being able to bend him to her master's will.

In the dreamscape, the woman fell to the ground with a small gasp, looking as pitiful and defenseless as she could. As the samurai yelled, the scenery crumbled, the fantasy falling away to reality as the last of the golden fog that had filled the room dissipated.

Ike was suddenly pulled from his dream as everything went crashing around him, the vision disappearing in a hiss. His eyes snapped open as he sat up; his heart beat was drumming fast inside of his chest. His palms were sweaty, his eyes straining to see in the dark as he remembered the dream vividly. A sick feeling settled into his stomach. "Something isn't right...I have to warn the others"

It is a brisk spring morning; the hazy, golden light of the sun has cast its rays over the fertile fields, trees and rivers of Yakuz. Already the industrious people of the prefecture have stirred; farmers are tending to the fields and orchards, whist artisans and merchants open their storefronts within the city. In the castle, Soragawa-dono's trusted samurai also start their day like any other, save for one, whose troubled sleep has left him with a restless mind.​

 

[KageKaioh]

Reserved Post, just in case.

This RP is now officially started!​

 

[KageKaioh]

Cool eyes stared, unblinking as the sun slowly rose over the horizon, transfixed on the scarecrow-like straw and wood target that lay one hundred yards away. Steadily, the lean man brought up the great bow in his hands, smoothly drawing back the silk and sinew string. For a few heartbeats, he stood frozen in the early morning haze; then, with a sharp twang, the arrow was loosed. It flew true, deeply embedding itself into the painted eye of the construct, mirroring the previous shot.

Though it was a near-perfect strike, Hiroyuki's expression did not change, no satisfaction showed; he merely set his daikyu into the stand next to him before walking over to collect his arrows. The stillness of the early day was starting to fade, as the hum of the castle and city beyond started to grow. The bird song was accompanied with distant chatter and footsteps as other warriors came toward the training grounds. This brought a twinge of disappointment to the quiet man, as the peaceful hours of dawn were always his favourite. With only the beasts for companions, he did not have to speak- he could just focus on his daily exercises.

Resigning to the idea that the packed earth was soon to be shared, he plucked the last of the arrows from the target and carefully placed them into the standing quiver before taking up his bow once more. Selecting his first missile from the bunch, he ran his fingers over the pristine fletching before nocking and drawing once more, allowing his mind to wander as he continued this repetitive training.

 

[firejay1]

Twang. Thump. Twang. Thump. The sound was soothing, largely regular in its intervals. Yurie, as per usual, had woken up before the sun and eaten first thing. She had been listening to the practice in silence for some time, not bothering to go inside. It wasn't as though she could lean against the wall like some rough man, or sit impertinently in the doorway with her legs crossed smoking a pipe, so instead she had developed the habit of sitting seiza in a secluded corner right outside. As an albino, the samurai knew that she would be immediately recognizable by anyone who saw her, but that didn't mean she couldn't use the skills her family taught to make it less likely for people to notice her. She sat very still and very quietly, as if she had become part of the wall. Her eyes closed and she let the regular sound of an archer reverberate through her ear canals without much fuss, neither for nor against the practicer. She'd just liked the sound. It was an idle way to spend her mornings, listening to whoever had gone in to practice first, but she liked it. It was a peaceful start to a morning.

Her own weapons she laid next to her, closer to the wall. The sounds of feet approaching, however, forced her to open her eyes. It was time for her morning training as well, but she wouldn't be doing it in the archery range. Floating upwards relatively gracefully, she reattached her short swords to a sash around her waist, and took up her large yellow fans, one in each hand. She was wearing clothes a bit lighter than the usual kimono, in the fashion of her clan, which made it easier for women to move about. Gliding into one of the courtyards, she closed her pink eyes, getting rid of the distraction of painfully fuzzy shapes. She let out one long, quiet, slow breath, keeping perfectly still, both fans still closed but held in front of her. For a long moment, she simply stood there, drinking in the distant sounds of others getting up to practice and birds singing, clearing her mind. Then, she snapped open her fans, at the same time snapping open her eyes. In a great swish of motion, she began swinging her fans. Above her, to each side, swaying to a rhythm the rest of her body seemed to know, though no one else could hear. The fans sang through the air viciously, reducing her ability to hear - it was a trade-off she'd been willing to take. In seemingly one motion, one fan swept upwards open as if to knock aside a strike, and the other flashed below it, ready to deliver a blow to the side. Even when she dodged imaginary enemies, it was done with flair and style. She knew well that it was harder to maintain this in a genuine battle, but this would have to suffice for now, until someone else came to spar with her.

The white-haired girl continued dancing in this manner - a dance that defied everything everyone else had decided for her the minute she was born, a dance that was her armor, not just her technique - waiting for the time to come when she would have to use it for something beyond herself.

((Erhm... I hope this is okay.))

 

[VerbalAbuse]

Kikuichi Kirihime

The day began earlier than the townsfolk's. She had to wash before praying to the shrine, to show her best self - unspoiled and un tainted - to the spirits she revered, and Amaterasu in particular. Afterwards, she went back to her home and applied the day's makeup. In the traditional styles, she had learned how to present herself properly as a woman of profession. While her work was not common for women, Soragawa-dono had a soothing number of women samurai. Some were more vocal or well-known than others, such as herself and the albino, yet still the commonfolk of Yakuz knew better than even some men samurai than to challenge the ability of their lord's women samurai. Kirihime's own brother, Nagato, was one such man who had paid for his mistake. The two had been estranged since then, as he never spoke to her, and out of respect for Clan, she rarely spoke to him. The two sparred often, however, still with no words being exchanged. Kirihime would best him a few times, he would bow, and he would go to train elsewhere. His drive was comparable to hers, to say the least - and at best, he had the potential to best her later. She would not stand for that.

Before today's training, Kirihime went to the town market to look at fashion and art. She was a collector of paintings and beautiful kimono. Today, she had found a tailor who had made a few kimono she felt both she and her eldest brother, Jin, would enjoy. She purchased sets for the both of them, as well as a less robust one for Nagato, and hired the man to work alongside four others as Kikuichi clan private tailors. Her servants took the kimono to their destinations and she decided to look at the local swordsmith's recent works. The town's smith was by no means a master like Hoseki's Kobayakawa Toshiro or Shinzo's Mifune Hideki, but he made a good blade every once in awhile. Suffice it to say, Shirowari, Kirihime's odachi, was not a local piece, although her naginata was made by him. The two exchanged pleasantries as she browsed his pieces. Finding nothing she felt the need to purchase, she praised the smith on his recent works and encouraged him to further improve his craft before leaving.

And finally, the rest of the morning was devoted to training, which she did until lunch and, if there was one, council, and then afterwards, she would continue training until late in the evening, where she would take another bath before dinner, and then her family introduced her to suitors she didn't like. For an unmarried woman, she was getting on in years. 24 and still, no husband. She had expected the day to go as any other day, but perhaps things would not go as planned. Either way, her training had to commence. She could not be bested by Nagato, even if it meant giving him back his honor. He should fight for it, and she had a reputation to keep as The Burning Maiden Kikuichi.

 

[Daws Combine]

Light. Blinding, unsatisfying light. Don't close your eyes again. It'll only make it harder to adjust, making the light more of a pain. And pain is not any better the second time around. Kaze slowly sat up, cursing himself for not stretching before bed, last night. His lower back was on fire, and the rest of his back wasn't too much better. Curse Makoto and his incessant blind spot blows. Kaze wasn't made to deal with pain like this, in the morning. Note to self: Stop training with Makoto. This pain would get worse before it got better, so there was no point staying in bed. Might as well get a sword in hand and fight this one out. Once bathed and dressed, the young Samurai attached his matched swords to his belt before grabbing his Kaiken. He slowly slipped the blade from it's sheath and looked it over. Not a scratch on it. Just how Father always kept it.... No time to be sentimental. The kaiken went in the sheath hidden under his breastplate. Now for food. Kaze stepped out into the courtyard, breathing in the morning air. This place always smelled like Lilies. Kaze hated Lilies....

After a filling meal, Kaze made his way to the nearest shrine. This is when the swords came off. He didn't like wearing them on Holy ground. He knelt down and dipped his head. He spoke softly, practically whispering to himself. An unorthodox prayer for his Father. It was quick, dirty, and unrefined. But that's the way Kaze did things, and that's the way his father would have liked it. After re-attaching his swords, the Samurai went into the woods, stopping in a clearing about three hours from civilization. This is where he normally trained. It was a location kept secret to all but three people, two of which were dead. The third one being his brother. He didn't talk about his brother. First, conditioning. There was a waterfall about ten minutes away, but Kaze settled for something a little less strenuous, given that his back wasn't in.... Pristine condition.

Training was pure hell. Conditioning, balance, power, technique. Over and over and over until the Samurai couldn't feel any part of any of his limbs. That was usually where he stopped, but Kaze took it a little farther, today. By the time he got back to his home, his hands had finally stopped bleeding. A shame, really. A few minutes longer would have been best. Just to let Kaze know that he had truly trained at his best. Oh, well. He bandaged his hands up and decided to go see if there was a council, today. If there was, it would be bad for him to miss it. If not, then at least he might see some beautiful women, on his way. He strapped on his swords and began to make his way to the palace, the small of Lilies following in Kaze's wake.

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

The road was bustling with movement as the rising sun illuminated the city. People were busy living their lives, not worried or scared as there was a real sense of security and safety in the area. This was likely due to a small group of three armed men walking down the middle of the road. Among them was Ryuunosuke, at the head of the morning patrol. Since his promotion, he had stepped up the presence of the Daimyo's police force throughout areas that he had authority in. This wasn't just meant to deter crime. Rather, these foot patrols were meant to help improve the relation between the people and the police. The people had a face to talk to and not a bureaucracy thus there was a sense of trust. In fact, some of the residents even took the time to thank them during their patrols and make small talk.

Thus, one could literally feel the sense of safety in this area. The police wasn't some all-mighty army that projected their strength from horseback and clad cold, iron armor. No, peace was not maintained through fear in this area and Ryuunosuke would make sure that it wouldn't until the day that he died. The patrol continued and along the way some people even offered them small snacks for the road. Ryuunosuke declined their kind offers. He had more than enough in life and it was not becoming of any human to take from those who had less. Yes, Ryuunosuke had avoided breakfast and was hungry. But, it was a part of the job. People ran faster on empty stomachs rather than full ones, so in the event that something happened during the patrol it would be better to be hungry.

Ryuunosuke then noticed a person, a man. He wasn't doing anything strange or illegal, but Ryuunosuke had never seen him in the city before. He was likely a traveller. Thus, Ryuunosuke approached him and said "Excuse me, are you from this city? If not, have you registered your visit at one of the local magistrate offices?" The man gave a small bow and replied "I'm afraid not, sir. I have been trying to find my way around the city, but can't seem to find the nearest office." Ryuunosuke gave the man directions and sent him on his way. The man didn't seem like he was hiding anything or was worried from the short interaction they had. It was a skill that Ryuunosuke had to learn and develop all these years as his job as a police officer. The patrol then continued their mundane patrol through the morning.

 

[KageKaioh]

As the other samurai trickled into the expanse of packed earth that made up the general training grounds, Hiro did his best to ignore them, only pausing his practice to give shallow bows in greeting as they passed. Most mornings he would feign a small smile or simply give a verbal response, but today something unnameable was bothering him. He felt tense, as if someone's eyes were upon him. He had hoped the repetitive motions of kyudo would help him to alleviate the feeling, but so far it only made it worse. Shaking his head slightly, he raised the great bow once more, nocking and drawing the shaft back as he slighted down its length. Breathing slow, he held that position until his arm burned, the muscles threatening to quake should he stress them further. Finally, with a sudden twitch of his thin fingers, the arrow loosed, driving its head deep into the red circle that represented the heart of his target.

It was then that he heard an all-to-familiar snap of a heavy fan in the distance. The walls around the archery range prevented Hiro from seeing the origin of the sound, but he knew exactly where it was coming from. The thought of the young albino practicing almost brought a smile to his lips. Many found themselves drawn towards the sight when she trained outside, men and women alike entranced by the beautiful martial dance. Setting his daikyu back into its stand, he took a moment to stretch his shoulders before leaving the range, carefully skirting some of the younger warriors that had begun using it.

A short walk brought him to the ring Yurie was training in. Already a few others had stopped to enjoy the spectacle, remaining respectfully silent as she stuck and dodged her invisible foes. Hiroyuki leaned against one of the few shade-providing trees nearby, stormy gaze following every movement like a predator, noting every nuance and gauging her progress. Though he was not a teacher in the Daimyo's army, he always kept an eye on the abilities of those he worked alongside. Many assumed it was just one of his habits, but there was a good reason the cautious man did so. Callous as it may be, he liked to know if there was a weak link, be it in the individual or the unit as a whole. Thus, he quietly scrutinized those around him, both masters and beginners alike.

 

[firejay1]

Fuzzy. Fuzzy. Everything was fuzzy. It was always fuzzy. Still, she could tell people were gathering, dark splotches against the white background. If she concentrated, she could make out faces, but there wasn't time for that. That would require her to stop her imaginary battle. Swinging her right fan in a dizzying disk above her head, to provide a distraction as she slid her left foot backwards to dodge an imaginary stab, she spun on the left heel and sent her left fan slicing into the fictional opponent. She could never assign a face to these apparitions, but she always made sure to assign them a certain height and weight. Her lips tightened in dissatisfaction, as her left went a bit higher than she had intended. While it wouldn't necessarily matter where she slashed, his imaginary momentum would have let his body move forward just enough to make her strike not as deep. She should have just swept back slightly and slashed down directly with her left, keeping her right low down to block any potential side strikes. She had to be better. That was how she always thought. She had to fight not just her opponent, but her own body. She was Yurie, the Suda clan's shame and its pride. The pale one, the half-blind, the placeless. Born during a storming night, she was her father's little Susanoo-no-ko, the Storm God's Child. She should do that name justice.

Ah, but she couldn't forget her audience, could she? When they gathered so specifically to watch her like this, she had to put on a bit of a show. It was her way of thanking them for acknowledging her. Sliding her body smoothly to one side, she swung both fans at her side at the same time, then slashed them in a quick X-shape in front of her body. It was a vicious movement, and in a real fight she would only use that if she knew she had a head-on shot and intended to finish it, but it was a very intimidating move. It had one drawback. It left her completely open, but she'd developed moves to counteract this. She just had to get this right. This was the hardest part, since she had her hands occupied. It had taken her quite some time to get right, and even now she had trouble with it. She flipped backwards over her head swinging her fans to add to her momentum, and landed again on her feet, back to a member of the crowd. Swinging her body down low as she forced her body into a quick spin, her arms close to her body, but her fans parallel to the ground, so her whole body became a funny sort of disk. She barely missed the person there, which had been her intention to begin with, then stood again and turned the big yellow weapons so that they were flat to her body in a defensive positions instead. And giving a jumping two-step inner spin, her fans following her movement as it brought her deeper into the courtyard again.

She continued to play with her audience in this manner, taking steps forward and mock slashing or ducking, then dancing away and fighting with herself again. Finally, she rolled forward and landed crouching, her fans flat on the floor. Yurie closed them sharply, and stood calmly, bowing to the person in front of her. People took this as their cue to leave, and began to do so. She tried not to show it, but she was tired. Her breathing was a little ragged, a bead of sweat traveling down the side of her face. Closing her eyes, she tucked her fans into her sash along with her short swords. The albino never let her composure slip. It hadn't been that long, after all. Slipping under the shade of one of the trees, she sat down, seiza again, and kept her eyes closed as a sort of reprieve for her vision. Let others use the courtyard for now.

 

[Daws Combine]

Kaze spotted the gathering crowd and frowned, stopping in his tracks. That was interesting. This sort of crowd didn't gather for any old festivity. Something truly fun was going on. The samurai peeked over the heads of the crowd, spotting Yurie training with her fan's. Kaze's frown widened, putting a hand on his hip. He disliked such impractical weapons, and he disliked this public show. Training in the open provided too many opportunities to learn for not only you, but those who wished to challenge you. This woman was just handing Kaze all the information he needed to take her down. Of course, he wouldn't do this. That would be.... problematic.

Kaze surveyed the crowd, looking for any faces he might find to be worthy of trouble. If she insisted on training in public, he insisted on making sure she wasn't tipping her hand to anyone who would take advantage. He spotted Hiroyuki and sighed. Was he here to pick up tricks from Yuri, or was he a common spectator? Kaze couldn't tell. He decided that finding out would be a good investment of his time. Don't want too many ill intentions, within the crowd.

"You would benefit more from a spar, Hiroyuki-san." Kaze approached his fellow samurai with a smile, holding up a hand in greeting. He picked up a small shaft of wheat from the ground and put it between his teeth, chewing on the end lightly. "Are you here to learn the young girl's secrets, or make sure they stay so?"