Categories > Original > Fantasy > Ryumake-Tetsu
On The Edge Of A Sword
0 reviewsThe war between the Jun-Sai-Mok clan and the Arashi-No-Tachi (Wind of swords) clans are at war. Sho Takechi is a young shinobie burdened with the task of delivering a peace treaty to the enemy Gen...
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"Blood is the rain
Bones pave our road to victory
The flesh of the fallen shall feed the foul
Our swords and spears, a battle we make
Death, honorable, good, just, and true
We know nothing more than to die
In death, we seek glory."
-Jun-Sai-Mok Battle Hymn
Sho Takechi leapt out of the woodline, landing gracefully amongst the dead and dying foot soldiers of General Makada. His Lord was in need of assistance, his shrill cry from his 'Fife of the winds' called him into service. He left his outpost, high up in the treetops, surveying and watching the battle unfolding before him.
The Jun-Sai-Mok, or the Mok, were ravaging through the Oni forest, in hopes to make an alliance with the ogre clans. The Oni were under servitude of the Arashi-No-Tachi, or Arashi, as work horses and heavy mobile forces. The Oni were large, strong, and short tempered, but obeyed the Arashi's whims and wills, their great lord and emporer had been slain long ago by the great Arashi warrior crowned emporer Mitsusake Kobei. His rule and reign was strict but fair, his first task had been to wrangle up the scattered empire of the Oni, to make a pact with them. The Oni safeguard the outskirts of the empire, the Arashi cure their sick and dying of the devastating plague. An uneasy alliance, bigotry and prejudice seathed and boiled under the surface.
The Mok only wished to make a proposition with the Oni, free them of servitude if they fought on their side. A tempting offer, an offer that the Arashi hoped to divert.
The Arashi Shinobi were dispatched to reconoitter and report all enemy movements in the area. They were ordered not to take any action unless threatened, or the loss of innocent life. The Shinobi obeyed orders without fail or question.
Sho made his way up the steep cliffs, leaping from rocky ledge to rocky ledge, his right hand always tightly gripped on the hilt of his sword, ready for an instant slash or thrust. He wore all black, which was customary for the Shinobi.
He was born for this, trained for this, he was ready for this.
War was his mother, battle his father.
His sword his brother.
His life and blood, the empires.
He narrowed his eyes as he approached one of the small encampments of the occupation forces here in Oni country. Bodies were strewn about like cherry blossoms, their blood saturating the ground into soggy crimson mud. His breathing steadied, sweat trickled down his cheek.
He picked up the pace of his sprint, taking two last long steps like a gazelle leaping from the brush. He quicly withdrew his sword, an under arm hold, customary for quick and close kills in tight quarters.
He leapt through the air, bringing his blade down on an enemy soldier, who was busy disembowling a dying foe.
The blade cut clean, the enemies body splitting perfectly down the middle, from right shoulder to right buttock, blood spraying wildly.
Sho withdrew his blade, whipping around just in time to cleave another soldiers face clean off, the man clutching his wound in agony and fear. Sho knew he wasn't a threat anymore, so he left him to writhe in his anguish.
Sho sprinted to the command tent, the sound of battle clanging from within the silken walls.
He leapt into the air again, performing a somersault while in mid air, to bring his blade singing down on the canopy of the tent, slicing thin slit for him to enter.
He landed perfectly, a small crouch position, from which he spun on his left knee, dismembering a nearby foe, twisting his sword arm with a flourish, he decapitated another. He dodged a thrust from a spear, feinting to the left, then right, then spinning quickly on his heel, he performed a backhanded wide arc with his sword, splitting the man in two from the neck over to his left arm pit.
Sho quickly and forcfully swiped his blade to his right, flinging the blood off and onto the dirt.
He quickly sheathed his sword, to have an unclean and unsheathed weapon in the presence of a lord was dishonorable and rude.
He knelt down on one knee, bowing graciously.
"Sho Takechi of the Arashi-No-Tachi, reporting as ordered my lord."
Bones pave our road to victory
The flesh of the fallen shall feed the foul
Our swords and spears, a battle we make
Death, honorable, good, just, and true
We know nothing more than to die
In death, we seek glory."
-Jun-Sai-Mok Battle Hymn
Sho Takechi leapt out of the woodline, landing gracefully amongst the dead and dying foot soldiers of General Makada. His Lord was in need of assistance, his shrill cry from his 'Fife of the winds' called him into service. He left his outpost, high up in the treetops, surveying and watching the battle unfolding before him.
The Jun-Sai-Mok, or the Mok, were ravaging through the Oni forest, in hopes to make an alliance with the ogre clans. The Oni were under servitude of the Arashi-No-Tachi, or Arashi, as work horses and heavy mobile forces. The Oni were large, strong, and short tempered, but obeyed the Arashi's whims and wills, their great lord and emporer had been slain long ago by the great Arashi warrior crowned emporer Mitsusake Kobei. His rule and reign was strict but fair, his first task had been to wrangle up the scattered empire of the Oni, to make a pact with them. The Oni safeguard the outskirts of the empire, the Arashi cure their sick and dying of the devastating plague. An uneasy alliance, bigotry and prejudice seathed and boiled under the surface.
The Mok only wished to make a proposition with the Oni, free them of servitude if they fought on their side. A tempting offer, an offer that the Arashi hoped to divert.
The Arashi Shinobi were dispatched to reconoitter and report all enemy movements in the area. They were ordered not to take any action unless threatened, or the loss of innocent life. The Shinobi obeyed orders without fail or question.
Sho made his way up the steep cliffs, leaping from rocky ledge to rocky ledge, his right hand always tightly gripped on the hilt of his sword, ready for an instant slash or thrust. He wore all black, which was customary for the Shinobi.
He was born for this, trained for this, he was ready for this.
War was his mother, battle his father.
His sword his brother.
His life and blood, the empires.
He narrowed his eyes as he approached one of the small encampments of the occupation forces here in Oni country. Bodies were strewn about like cherry blossoms, their blood saturating the ground into soggy crimson mud. His breathing steadied, sweat trickled down his cheek.
He picked up the pace of his sprint, taking two last long steps like a gazelle leaping from the brush. He quicly withdrew his sword, an under arm hold, customary for quick and close kills in tight quarters.
He leapt through the air, bringing his blade down on an enemy soldier, who was busy disembowling a dying foe.
The blade cut clean, the enemies body splitting perfectly down the middle, from right shoulder to right buttock, blood spraying wildly.
Sho withdrew his blade, whipping around just in time to cleave another soldiers face clean off, the man clutching his wound in agony and fear. Sho knew he wasn't a threat anymore, so he left him to writhe in his anguish.
Sho sprinted to the command tent, the sound of battle clanging from within the silken walls.
He leapt into the air again, performing a somersault while in mid air, to bring his blade singing down on the canopy of the tent, slicing thin slit for him to enter.
He landed perfectly, a small crouch position, from which he spun on his left knee, dismembering a nearby foe, twisting his sword arm with a flourish, he decapitated another. He dodged a thrust from a spear, feinting to the left, then right, then spinning quickly on his heel, he performed a backhanded wide arc with his sword, splitting the man in two from the neck over to his left arm pit.
Sho quickly and forcfully swiped his blade to his right, flinging the blood off and onto the dirt.
He quickly sheathed his sword, to have an unclean and unsheathed weapon in the presence of a lord was dishonorable and rude.
He knelt down on one knee, bowing graciously.
"Sho Takechi of the Arashi-No-Tachi, reporting as ordered my lord."
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