Tainted Bushido
10-20-08, 10:20 PM
Closed to Zantetsuken
On the coast of Corone south of Radasanth but north of Akashima was a small island. Most people never gave it thought, though a few vessels would stop by it as a means of stretching your legs before you got cabin fever, the island was a picturesque tropical paradise, and was intended to be the hide away of perhaps one of the worlds greatest swordsman. In recent weeks however, ships had come in abundance, dropping off supplies and continuing on, occasionally dropping off people. What had once been the solitary confinement of a warrior had become a small city overnight. Tents stretched through the island as people prepared for the day this man would choose his successor.
Kai Atari, the Saint of Swords, lived upon this Island.
The Saint of Swords was a title that was given to this man, never demanded. He was what the land of Akashima had called a Kensai, or Sword Saint. A being who had trained with the sword for so long, that they were one with any blade they carried. A deadly profession, the Kensai would often try their varying techniques upon each other, if only to engage in friendly debate upon the better technique. Up until a month ago, they had been a myth, the sort of fairytale that one would assume was never real, but a goal to strive for.
That was, until the various Kensai long assumed dead had come out of hiding, and gathered forth those determined by Kai Atari. A few of these Kensai would join in the selection process, watching and observing. A few would partake, trying to vie for a title that had eluded them, for while they were all Sword Saints, there could be only one Saint of Swords. Even more had merely gathered the flock, shepherds that had known all along that the title would never be theirs, and had accepted this fact. The truth however, was that there were very few peers to Kai Atari, and to be selected as his heir, would be a boon not soon forgotten.
Taka, a Ronin who had long since been left for dead by his people, was one of these people. Trained by a Ronin who had recently left retirement, the monk Hoturi had taken Taka under his wing. It was not an unappreciated gesture, however, there was much to be learned here. Taka after all had been practicing his kata's diligently upon the deck of the Kobune under Hoturi's tutelage, only to find that he still had not mastered them. If anything he was only able to mimic the techniques taught to him, and not actually acquire them.
As he sat in his room Taka looked upon his arms and sighed. Tendrils of inky blackness blotted his skin, a sign of the blight upon his soul. It wasn't until recently, when Taka had served once more under his former Lord Jubei Hantei that he had learned of the cancer upon his very soul. He was tainted from exposure to Oni's blood, forever doomed to one day succumb to the unholy powers within him, and slip into insanity, before attempting to destroy the world about him.
His hand clenched into a fist as he gritted his teeth, holding onto the bandage in his hand as he began the process of tightly wrapping the bandages up his arms. Threading the bandages between his fingers he soon began to wrap carefully about the palm before working around the wrist and down his arms to well under where the Haori jacket of his kimono could cover. Having finished with one arm he began work on the other, recalling a friend's betrayal.
Sanzo had betrayed him forcing him to face the demon that had tainted his soul. This much he knew, and he could only hope Sanzo had paid for his treachery. As he continued to wrap the bandages, hiding his taint he sighed before he finally pulled on the gloves that would soon be covered by the armored fore plates of his kote. As he looked upon the small stand that held his twin blades he sighed, muttering a prayer to the Kami that looked over him. His hair had become long, flowing over his shoulders as he had taken to not cutting, it mainly at Hoturi's behest. The swordsman had not steered him wrong before, and he was not going to question him now.
As he carefully pulled the Haori over his chest he carefully tucked himself into the Kimono before he tied the obi. Soon his Katana and Wakizashi were placed on the proper place. Hoturi had said no violence was to ensue on the Island until the Saint of Swords willed it, and in proper Akashiman tradition had tucked his weapons under his right arm. The gesture would seem odd to most, until they realized he was a right handed person, and it was meant as a measure of respect.
Soon he exited his place on the ship, after packing up the few belongings to his person. As he stepped up onto the deck he heard Hoturi's boisterous laugh as the man came from in front of him and greeted Taka, "So good to see you up. You'd sleep the day away, given half a chance."
Taka smiled as he replied, "Merely assuring survival for today. While the sailors don't mind my Taint, I doubt other samurai would. Merely being cautious my friend."
More boisterous laughter left the former monk's lips before he said, "Of course Ronin, just don't feel too sullen. This is a good day Taka, a very good day to be alive! The feast when we get there will be excellent. Don't let your gloom overshadow the day you met the Saint of Swords himself!"
Soon Taka was caught off guard as while the Kobune ship crested a wave, the large monk had slapped his shoulder playfully. Touch on its own was rather uncustomary in Akashima, and coupled with the rather unbalanced way the ship had become; Taka nearly fell over the side before he gripped onto the railing and managed to keep himself from catapulting over the edge. More laughter was heard as the Ronin grumbled about murder attempts and sighed steadying his rapidly beating heart. The sun was beating down upon the ship as it finally crested the last of the waves and reached a small cove, where suddenly Taka understood why it had been a retreat from the world.
The water was crystal clear, leaving nothing hidden as fish swam through it. The occasional turtle swam amongst the schools snapping its jaws around a tasty treat before lazily swimming back towards the shores. The clear white sand left little to desire as the boat finally pulled ashore at the makeshift docks. Sailors quickly worked at tethering the ship before they were lead off the ship. Taka looked about the area with a critical eye before Hoturi spoke, a reverence in his voice, "Welcome to Sospita Island, home of Heroes, great and small."
On the coast of Corone south of Radasanth but north of Akashima was a small island. Most people never gave it thought, though a few vessels would stop by it as a means of stretching your legs before you got cabin fever, the island was a picturesque tropical paradise, and was intended to be the hide away of perhaps one of the worlds greatest swordsman. In recent weeks however, ships had come in abundance, dropping off supplies and continuing on, occasionally dropping off people. What had once been the solitary confinement of a warrior had become a small city overnight. Tents stretched through the island as people prepared for the day this man would choose his successor.
Kai Atari, the Saint of Swords, lived upon this Island.
The Saint of Swords was a title that was given to this man, never demanded. He was what the land of Akashima had called a Kensai, or Sword Saint. A being who had trained with the sword for so long, that they were one with any blade they carried. A deadly profession, the Kensai would often try their varying techniques upon each other, if only to engage in friendly debate upon the better technique. Up until a month ago, they had been a myth, the sort of fairytale that one would assume was never real, but a goal to strive for.
That was, until the various Kensai long assumed dead had come out of hiding, and gathered forth those determined by Kai Atari. A few of these Kensai would join in the selection process, watching and observing. A few would partake, trying to vie for a title that had eluded them, for while they were all Sword Saints, there could be only one Saint of Swords. Even more had merely gathered the flock, shepherds that had known all along that the title would never be theirs, and had accepted this fact. The truth however, was that there were very few peers to Kai Atari, and to be selected as his heir, would be a boon not soon forgotten.
Taka, a Ronin who had long since been left for dead by his people, was one of these people. Trained by a Ronin who had recently left retirement, the monk Hoturi had taken Taka under his wing. It was not an unappreciated gesture, however, there was much to be learned here. Taka after all had been practicing his kata's diligently upon the deck of the Kobune under Hoturi's tutelage, only to find that he still had not mastered them. If anything he was only able to mimic the techniques taught to him, and not actually acquire them.
As he sat in his room Taka looked upon his arms and sighed. Tendrils of inky blackness blotted his skin, a sign of the blight upon his soul. It wasn't until recently, when Taka had served once more under his former Lord Jubei Hantei that he had learned of the cancer upon his very soul. He was tainted from exposure to Oni's blood, forever doomed to one day succumb to the unholy powers within him, and slip into insanity, before attempting to destroy the world about him.
His hand clenched into a fist as he gritted his teeth, holding onto the bandage in his hand as he began the process of tightly wrapping the bandages up his arms. Threading the bandages between his fingers he soon began to wrap carefully about the palm before working around the wrist and down his arms to well under where the Haori jacket of his kimono could cover. Having finished with one arm he began work on the other, recalling a friend's betrayal.
Sanzo had betrayed him forcing him to face the demon that had tainted his soul. This much he knew, and he could only hope Sanzo had paid for his treachery. As he continued to wrap the bandages, hiding his taint he sighed before he finally pulled on the gloves that would soon be covered by the armored fore plates of his kote. As he looked upon the small stand that held his twin blades he sighed, muttering a prayer to the Kami that looked over him. His hair had become long, flowing over his shoulders as he had taken to not cutting, it mainly at Hoturi's behest. The swordsman had not steered him wrong before, and he was not going to question him now.
As he carefully pulled the Haori over his chest he carefully tucked himself into the Kimono before he tied the obi. Soon his Katana and Wakizashi were placed on the proper place. Hoturi had said no violence was to ensue on the Island until the Saint of Swords willed it, and in proper Akashiman tradition had tucked his weapons under his right arm. The gesture would seem odd to most, until they realized he was a right handed person, and it was meant as a measure of respect.
Soon he exited his place on the ship, after packing up the few belongings to his person. As he stepped up onto the deck he heard Hoturi's boisterous laugh as the man came from in front of him and greeted Taka, "So good to see you up. You'd sleep the day away, given half a chance."
Taka smiled as he replied, "Merely assuring survival for today. While the sailors don't mind my Taint, I doubt other samurai would. Merely being cautious my friend."
More boisterous laughter left the former monk's lips before he said, "Of course Ronin, just don't feel too sullen. This is a good day Taka, a very good day to be alive! The feast when we get there will be excellent. Don't let your gloom overshadow the day you met the Saint of Swords himself!"
Soon Taka was caught off guard as while the Kobune ship crested a wave, the large monk had slapped his shoulder playfully. Touch on its own was rather uncustomary in Akashima, and coupled with the rather unbalanced way the ship had become; Taka nearly fell over the side before he gripped onto the railing and managed to keep himself from catapulting over the edge. More laughter was heard as the Ronin grumbled about murder attempts and sighed steadying his rapidly beating heart. The sun was beating down upon the ship as it finally crested the last of the waves and reached a small cove, where suddenly Taka understood why it had been a retreat from the world.
The water was crystal clear, leaving nothing hidden as fish swam through it. The occasional turtle swam amongst the schools snapping its jaws around a tasty treat before lazily swimming back towards the shores. The clear white sand left little to desire as the boat finally pulled ashore at the makeshift docks. Sailors quickly worked at tethering the ship before they were lead off the ship. Taka looked about the area with a critical eye before Hoturi spoke, a reverence in his voice, "Welcome to Sospita Island, home of Heroes, great and small."