Seiji, with an unconscious Liori over his shoulder came charging along the docks towards Nathaniel and Karleen. The dockworkers would recognize the young man as he approached, from his time in the village with his brother and a separate visit as well. Boarding the ship he would take Liori and set her into a comfortable position on the deck and immediately moved to get some of the winter gear out for the members of his team that were already with him. Taking a moment to dress Liori as she lay still out cold, his mind unsure of what was afflicting her, but knowing he had a duty to at least get her back to lightning country.
"Nathaniel. When we get to Raijin bay we need to get Liori to a healer's to rest. Our immediate goal is to get up to the village with our supplies." The Chuunin commanded as he checked the tie-downs keeping their crate of supplies in place.
Steeling himself for the journey ahead, Seiji stared out to sea. His eyes closed as he felt the bitter pangs of cold from the winds cresting down the mountainside. And as the journey finished, he left the others in the care of Nathaniel, as he had stated before.
xxxxx Nathaniel grunted affirmatively at Seiji's orders. He couldn't imagine where the village was after they'd been gone for so long. He let Seiji check the cargo and then remained rather stoic on the boat home. Nathaniel gestured to the port town and led Liori off the boat.
A man in an ornate and intricate coat of plates, with a white linen shirt clambered down from one of the latest ships to enter the Takumi docks. His hands held the leather reigns of a majestic Friesian horse, chuckling gently the man patted the beast upon it's muzzle and lead it down the docking plate and into the actual wooden docks themselves.
The blond would turn to look up to the girl astride his beloved companion, Cervantes, making sure she sat well as they transitioned down. Patting the horse again he let it wander forward to get a bit of wild grain growing where the dock met the land.
"Madame Asami, do you ride well? Have you any immediate destination I may depart you unto, whilst I seek work?" The man asked as his blue eyes looked up to her face.
As he questioned, he wondered just how he would afford room and board for himself and his partner, and, perchance, the young blind woman, should she have no other accommodations.
The sounds of bells, the bustling of city streets, the smell of the port city, all of these told Asami that they had reached their destination. She sat perched upon her companion's horse, both her legs hanging off the left side of it. Her companion would lead them where she assumed was the docks, then would ask if she preferred to be dropped anywhere before he looked for a job or two. "Yes, thank you, Wulfram. Though you needn't be so formal, I am but an entertainer." The songstress paused for a moment. "Perhaps a place to sleep, an inn, if there is one in town. I would like to hone my craft, but would prefer a place where it is safe for me to be alone." Asami looked to be peering into the distance, but could only see the dark abyss her blindness would allow.
"A man needs be formal. It is in the teachings of Maester Lichtenaur. Be you Entertainer, whore, or Noble Woman." Wulfram would respond as he looked amid the streets, hearing the woman's words he would nod silently.
"Young knight, learn to love God and honour noble women, so grows your honour; practice chivalry and learn art which adorns you and will glorify you in battle."
Such the man in his odd clothing rattled off as he looked back to the girl for a moment, remembering she was blind and that she could not see the trace of his eyes. She wasn't much younger than himself, but she was much more innocent, and much more like porcelain than his beaten and tanned hide. He sighed and brushed his hair back from his face at this realization, comparing her features to his own.
Soft skin, rounded features, versus hard skin, rigid and squared features, a pointed chin. Flawless skin, feminine, versus rough and tawny, covered in stubble. Looking around the rest of the people here he saw many similar features to hers among them, and sighed. He really would need a mask to hide himself here.
"The Sailors told me of a place that may work well. I believe it was called Engan? It's supposed to be some kind of Ryu... Ryio... Ryokan? I still haven't got an inclination to the words that you folks like to speak." He mused as he watched the others around him and her.
Leading her to the Engan Ryokan he would read the sign afore it and guide her down from the back of Cervantes.
"Here is your guiding implement, Madame Asami. It was fair to meet you on our travels, perhaps we'll meet again in the days to come? I'll be looking for work among the village." He told her, motioning for a helper from the Ryokan to assist the young lady.
"I will return and check upon you in a day, should you still be in town." He spoke as he handed the remnants of Asami's belongings to the assistant from the Ryokan, then climbed upon Cervantes' back.
Arriving to the River Port once more from releasing his young ward to the Engan, he sought a place of solace, and after no short time of searching he found it. Far at the ends of the docks, a clearing where once a building stood and now only stood rubble. Uneven ground upon which the shamed, no, not shamed but growing, expanding of his honour, a place where such a knight could train in peace. Looking to his companion, his horse Cervantes, he drew his blade upon his dismount and stepped three paces back. Cervantes in turn would canter back two paces, giving the knight room to practice skills.
Standing to full height, Wulfram rose his sword high, entering into the first stance of the Kunst de Fechens. Crouching into a slightly lowered stance he maintained his blade at a near forty-five degree angle, his arms bent, both hands upon the hilt, one under the guard, the other upon the pommel. Making a forward flourish he thrust the blade out and with a twist of his wrists the blade returned to an upwards position. [ 1/1 vom Tag Stance Learned ]
From this raised stance his blade came before his face, risen into a vertical guard, one meant to deflect vertical strikes. The blow being warded away would have struck the blade or along the quillons and twisted his blade away into another strike. Copying the same motion he would toss his blade from this transitional stance into one more secure of a positioning. [ 1/1 Kron Transition Learned ]
Lowering his blade into another stance, the Knight Errant crossed one arm across his body, tucked beneath his sword hilt. The other arm tucked back at the elbow, his palm upon the rise of the hilt, thumb over the guard and upon the blade. From this plowing position he would throw forth a piercing blow, a long pointed thrust, leaving him in long point position. [ 1/1 Pflug Stance Learned ]
This longpoint was a transition between stances and the longest point between them at that. It left the body the most open to outside thrusts and wide angled hews from the exterior. Yet, so too did it bring the body to the quickest and most reflexive of stances. A blow thrown against this transition would naturally be thrown low, as the blade would be twitched reflexively to block from any other placement. [ 1/1 Longpoint Transition Learned ]
To overcome a blow thrown low, the safest bet would be to lower the countenance of one's own blade as well. The low guarded stance, often called the Fool's stance, or Alber, floated the tip of the blade inches above the ground. It was the most open of stances, versus other strikes, but so too was it the fastest. Most throws from this position would be upwards bent hews, or undercut thrusts. Defenses from this stance would turn blade downwards, but leave him safe. The end result would be the transitional hengetort. [ 1/1 Albert Stance Learned ]
The Hengeort transition was one wherein the hilt of the blade was raised and the point lowered, crossed slightly of the body. As always, both hands remained upon the hilt. The dominant hand upon the guard, the pomell placed within the offhand. Standing at the point of this transition, Wulfram would then draw his offhand back, his offhand elbow risen above his shoulder, his dominant beneath the blade. His blade thrust forward from his head, as the horn upon an oxen. [ 1/1 Hengetort Transition Learned ]
From this stance, blade jutting forward as a horn upon the ox, Wulfram took a moment of countenance. His blade sang as it cleaved the air, whispering songs of fortitude, of valiant efforts of the future. This stance, the most powerful of defenses rose from, not through strength of arm or speed of the draw, but through will of the body and mind. [ 1/1 Ochs Stance Learned ]
From this final stance, Wulfram would twist his grip on the pommel, raising his blade upwards into the vom Tag stance. His mind's eye remembered the teachings of old and the knights and warriors he saw travelling through his homeland. The book of Lichtenauer, the master cuts, Die Meisterhäue. The first, as he cast it, was the Wrath Hew, or Zornhau, tossed diaganolly across the body of an opponent from their upper openings. [ 1/2 ]
Returning his guard to vom Tag, a fine flourish marking his path, the Knight Errant would make another of the zornhau. His blade singing through the air as he made the repeat strike, the sun in the sky reflecting off of the steel. Though as he carried through the strike this time, he did not let momentum reign, instead ending the strike in a straightforward point, the longort. [ 2/2 Zornhau Learned ]
Removing himself from the stance he would return to the vom Tag guard and with a hand upon his pommel twist the longsword, pivoting it at the guard to deliver a crosswise strike. Thinking to his instruction before he left his homeland for these foreign lands, he recalled the name of this strike being the Krumphau. As the first blow was 'stricken' from this position, it would leave the sword in the hanging point position, with the blade cast in a slight diagonal over his body. [ 1/2 ]
Tightening his arms up once more into the Ochs, instead of the vom Tag, he would strike out with another Krumphau, followed in succession by two more. It was an easy technique to throw, and one that would most often knock aside or wrap around and take the force out of incoming high-angled assaults. The sunglight would reflect his movements of steel and the brief reflection of the brass threading in his surcoat. Cervantes watched on with an interest, and a higher intellect in his eyes. [ 2/2 Krumphau Learned ]
Returning to the Ochs stance, the Errant Knight smirked and began to twist his blade from the horizontal position. Unlike the downward facing Krumphau, the Zwerchau technique remained the blade forward, pressing ever more and more at the opponent. It was a quick, merciless repetitions of strikes, wherein if one was interrupted, it could be easily returned with a flick of the wrist and swatting witht he opposite length of the blade. [ 1/2 ]
Striking against one of the charred supports of the house, Wulfram stepped in and out in a rhythmic motion as he laid strike after strike against the beam. The first strike would come from the 'short' edge of his sword, and as he took a step back from the post he would wind his blade around, striking with the 'long' edge, his knuckles facing the strike. Twisting the blade to his side, he would then deliver another short edge blow, the stance from this returning him to the Ochs Stance. [ 2/2 Zwerchau Learned ]
Shifting through stances back to the base of vom Tag, he would throw a strike from the shoulder, pulling ont he pommel to twist it as it swung across his chest. What began with a long edged blow would wrap around the form with a twisting motion upon the pommel, designed to catch the opponent's sword on the guard, before sliding back around to strike at the opposing shoulder. His steel would strike against the charred ember that remained of the support beam, rocking it as he took a step back and examined it. [ 1/2 ]
Returning to stance he would sigh and throw the first half of the strike, then twisting the blade over to strike the pole with the short edge of the blade. As contact was made he stepped back and drew into the opposite side of the vom Tag and prepared to throw another. His mind returning to home, to the poor town where they had come from, where he witnessed his father beat his sister, where he had hands laid upon himself. To the day it was said they would be sold, and he ran. His thoughts then went back to his sister, Ganymede, to the stranger who saved or abducted her, who leveled a small village in rage. Sighing he continued to train, eyes meeting those of Cervantes once more. [ 2/2 Schielhau Learned ]
Like most of the other Meisterhäue, the final cut was also derived from the vom Tag stance. Admittedly, this was the most open of the strikes, but it left the way for the user to transition down into lower stances. Stepping forward, Wulfram sighed and took a practice swing downward, stopping with the tip of his blade against the support beam. [ 1/2 ]
His eyes filled with resolution as he realized he was working the final of the five mastercuts. Stepping forward once more he thrust his blade down from the vom Tag, colliding at the top of the support column. Though, unlike the other times his blade took purchase and worked its way down, the pommel of his blade coming even with his navel as he stepped back and wrenched the blade free. Those cold eyes stared at the split and now splintering wood, trying to figure whatever happened to this house, and whatsoever happened to Ganymede. [ 2/2 Sheitelhau Learned ]
Shifting through the remants and charred pieces of timer of the house, Wulfram would find a place in which the timbers had burned just right. Clearing some more debris he found a cross shaped timber standing at about even height with himself. Taking a step forward toward sit, he pressed his blade to the crux that would be the arm of the 'man' he envisioned it to be. With the edge acting as the 'crossguard of an opponent's blade he would begin to make gestures towards a specific disarming technique. [ 1/4 ]
Thinking back to Ganymede and their father, the thought of the hell that man had put them through pushed across his mind and he focused more intently upon the training target. Crossing the blade with the edge of the timber, he would make a quick cut around the guard, aimed at slicing down the 'wrist' of his opponent to hinder reflexes in combat. To wound the hand was to slow the enemy's reaction time. To cut their reaction time gave an attacker more time to strike through, larger openings. Larger openings would lead to a dead or disabled enemy. [ 2/4 ]
"There is but a single god. No Kami, no Yahweh, nary a Christ to absolve us of our sins. There is only one god, and His name is Death. And there is only one thing we say to Death: 'Not Today'. Death is not forgivable. Not until such a time as I find my dear Ganymede, meet this man who took her from my virtuous rescue, and discern myself as a true Knight." Wulfram whispered to himself as he withdrew his blade and made another cut, circling underneath the guard of his chosen target. [ 3/4 ]
Twisting his blade around the circumference of the wrist with a flourish, the Knight Errant shifted his grip on the pommel and side stepped to the right of the timbers, pushing the blade along the wrist to make a completely circular cut. Eyes, minutes before filled with mirth and happiness upon meeting a young woman who reminded him of home, were now empty, cold, hollow. Wrenching the blade back he sighed and buried his face in the sleeve of his white shirt. Nothing around him now but ashes, in chaos cursed to roam. A tear crossed over his cheek as he tried to push himself onwards. [ 4/4 Händedrücken Learned ]
"I pray to the sun as the world grows dimmer, the fire fades and I am alone. There will be no solace in this journey, no peace until my mind erodes. Whisper a prayer for the souls I've surrendered, there's no coming back from what I've done. A trail of ashes lay before me in the chaos I am cursed to roam. If I had not run, my sister, sweet Ganymede, would never have been lost. I could have stayed with her, we could have worked this world together. Instead I ran, and you saved me, Cervantes. But who saved Ganymede?" He questioned as he returned from his stance, his eyes closing as he thought to the past.
The next technique was one of more, martial, progression. It was a countering technique for such times as an opponent was pressing in against your own guard. By sliding your own blade back so that the core of the blade was against the weak of your opponents, one could make a circular motion. In this motion the stance would shift until such a point as you were able to direct the point of your blade towards your opponent's face or other relevant openings. [ 1/4 ]
Each time he took his blade into the motion he felt a firm tug of the blade to aim for the face, despite years of practice that it should most likely be pressed at torso or lower body attacks when the blade was thrown free. Wulfram growled as he realized his error and returned to the beginning point of the stance. Perhaps it was the twist of the pommel that was causing him to misguide the swordpoint to his opponent's visage. [ 2/4 ]
A third attempt, circling and winding the b*****d sword through until he ended with the blade in a lower inclination. From this stance he would end in a thrust, aiming to maim any opponent he would have hit with such a strike. A thrust through the knee would incapacitate, at the very least. Shifting back he would take one more attempt at the shadow, this time his goal to set on the gut. [ 3/4 ]
The final practice he found himself with a firmer control of the hilt and pommel. Guiding his blade back to what would be the weak, had he a real opponent, the Knight Errant surged. His blade swung wide, guiding the supposed opponent's to go wider. Then as he approached he closed the two pace distance between him and his imagined adversary, throwing the point of his blade for the conjoining point of armor and cloth, seeking to drive it through. [ 4/4 Winden Learned ]
To come next was the technique known as Nachreissen, or after-travelling, wherein during an opponent's strike or reaction, you broke their tempo. A well placed thrust or a well timed hew could take any enemy off guard, and while they made their plans to strike in advance, you break them of that thought process. Dropping his guard low to Alber stance, he would watch the shadows that rocked with the time of a nearby sign swaying in the coastal breeze. [ 1/4 ]
As the shadow rocked back and prepared to strike forward he thrust his blade upwards, meeting the shadow, just a moment too late. It had already begun its foreward swing, which could have been a movement to deflect his own interference. Sighing, the young man returned to the Alber stance once more, his guard hanging just an inch or two above the debris strewn floor. Taking a step back with the stance as he enterd it. [ 2/4 ]
Again, the winds carried the shadows back and forth, his own actions mirroring them, entering defensive strikes and guards. A counter hew, a thrust in defense, a sidestep to dodge a greatsword blow. It was about timing the enemy and the tempo of their blows, and there it came. The winds shifted, the sign took longer in a windup. [ 3/4 ]
As it did so, the young swordsman struck. Entering the shifted tempo of his opponent, he would manage to pierce the shadow of the sign with the shadow of his blade, moments before it had begun to rock forward again. As the sign began to move forward, however, he slid back on his heels, the dirt kicking up gently as he did so. His eyes following the tempo anew as the winds too shifted. To this end, every fight was as if cast in a blowing storm. Motions made and counteracted in the blusters of the storm, ever moving, ever flowing. [ 4/4 Nachreissen Learned ]
Stepping back and entering the Ochs stance, the Knight Errant began to return to the moment, not the search, but bettering of himself. He took track of the beams around him and inched closer to one that was being propped up by another. Looking around momentarily he had realized he had gathered a bit of a crowd, but such a matter would not stop a man as Cavalier as he. He was Wulfram Dierk Armistead! First Knight of his Name! [ 1/4 ]
Seizing forward with the might of several oxen, he brought his blade to bear, stepping back as he struck, he aimed the blow clear and true for the beam that served as immitation of an opponent's blade. Yet, curiously, it did not fall. His eyes sought answers, searching the timbers, searching the crux upon which it rested, searching the ground upon which it was imparted. Yet still, nothing seemed to explain why the damned thing did not fall. [ 2/4 ]
Taking stance once more he dodged back and forth, avoiding various shadows that danced around him until all that was left as the clouds parted was the damnable weapon of his adversary. Closing the range for a moment he waited for the assault to come from on low, and as it did he struck downwards once more, stepping back and utilizing his extended range. As he did so, this time, it faltered, breaking free of the crux and clambering to the ground amid debris and broken glass. [ 3/4 ]
"Yes, it has fallen as such. I have disarmed my adversary, did you see such, Cervantes?" The man, seeming eccentric to the passing crowd, asked.
Turning to look back as the crowd began to disperse, he came unto a realization. In this land he was not one of many. It seemed the warriors that walked these streets did so in such a manner where they were still able to mingle and be confused for townsfolk, were it not for the sabers tucked into their belts. And yet, what weird sabers they wrought. No guard fixture, such a slight curve. Sighing to himself at the thought of foreign cultures, he chuckled. [ 4/4 Überlaufen Learned ]
Approaching the first timbers he had squared off against, the man would begin to test himself versus it once more. Striking with general hews and thrusts, his eyes tracing the large split in its center, and upon one of his hews being displaced by a shift of the wood, he would apply himself to it thusly, cresting his blade back across the surface in much the same manner as he had initially. [ 1/4 ]
This would repeat once more, intentionally. He found it to be a sort of game, tossing blows and waiting for that one that made the wood redouble and parry his strikes. These trades between him and the post were grand, as it gave him a sense of an actual opponent, attempting to deflect his blows. [ 2/4 ]
As the post shifted and moved, he would continue to time and again redouble his efforts. Searching his mind in the time of his travels he tried his damnedest to recall what this technique was called, and as he let his forgetfulness avail, his mind would redouble upon him. It was known as Duplieren, to Double. To meet broken force with the same, as not to give up the advantage of the type of blow that was deflected. [ 3/4 ]
Cervantes seemed pleased at the forward habits of his partner, and neighed slightly as the man took to shifting the way he stood and trying such once more. Utter devotion to configuring the timing and reactions to such a deflection seemed to have become this man's mission. And as he claimed to have reached it, so too did the horse let his human enjoy it. [ 4/4 Duplieren Learned ]
The last thing Wulfram had to achieve was the proper Hangen Stance. Not the Hengetort transitional phase, but the Hangen that could follow in one of four positions following Hengetort or Kron Transitions. First, the Knight would take himself into the vom Tag Stance, throwing a stout blow that returned himself to the Kron Transition. His face turned into a resolute smile as he looked over the field before him and saw that the passer-bys had left. [ 1/4 ]
Traditionally Kron would allow the Knight to turn quickly over to vom Tag, or to lower into the Pflug stance, but with the latest addition to his repetoir of stances, he would be able to enter the Hangen from either the Kron or Hengetort transition. Though, as it was an improvised stance, he would garner no benefits from strikes leading into it. But, for an emergency, it would be a good pinch between styles. [ 2/4 ]
From this stance he would then throw a short bout of stout blows. Each designed simply to test the waters of his stances until he returned to the Hengetort transition. From here he would raise his hilt just slightly, not so that the hilt was equal with his face, but so that it created a diagonal line across his midsection to ward off blows or allow him to strike forward. [ 3/4 ]
The ward was not the most effective, but it allowed Wulfram to enter and exit between two of the most useful stances in his repetoir withing much of a hassle. Unlike the traditional teachings of four, he did not have to work through three transitions or take the time to physically adjust a full stance away and detract from his reaction times in combat. Sweat soaked his brow and he began to grow tired as he mastered the end of the First Teachings of the Kunst de Fechens, and thought a moment more of his homeland, of his beloved sister Ganymede 'Nym' Armistead, he thought of the white haired man who rumor told had kidnapped her from their home village once she had returned. And he thought of the progress he had made within the world. Sighing, he let it all fade into nothingness for a moment. [ 4/4 Hangen Learned ]
A growl signaled the air as he stopped to let the world fade, his stomach growled, and his faithful partner neighed, as he too felt the human had hunger. Chuckling he moved his hand down his side and began to unfasten the first belts that secured his coat of plates, utterly removing it and setting it astride the horse as he clambered atop it. If he were to eat tonight, he would need to work.
Thinking back to his time in Europa, there were so few traits the man had picked up. After being rescued by Cervantes, the long journeys they had taken along the roadways and the many villages and knights they had dodged, he knew only what was taught to him. Thinking it over, he came back to his time among the city of Lammershagen. Wherein he was entreated to an education, and applied himself into the city guard. And there were so few trades he knew in his life, because of this, but he came to one thing, as always. The guards maintained their own armor, all were proficient as at least basic smiths. So the the local armorer they would travel. Perhaps there he would find decent work, perhaps a livable wage. And with such a wage he could afford food. Such as he hoped.
Asami remained quiet as Wulfram gave a counterargument and took her to a place to stay for the night. Asami would be helped down from his horse, and given farewell along with her cane. Giving someone her things, he would tell her he would come back in about a day. "I see. Farewell on your travels, Wulfram. I look forward to seeing you again." As the assistant opened the door, Asami's ears twitched, and she bowed in Wulframs direction before turning on the ball of her foot, grinding her waraji in the dirt path of the street. Walking forwards, she remembered how tough it was to walk alone, in a place she did not know the area of by heart. Entering the inn, she would ask for help to a room. One of the assistants would oblige and gently take her by the arm her room.
This land smelled different, it had a crisper scent then the warm blanket of flowers she was used to smelling. It cut at her nose, and Zorja shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. IT was quite the change from the hotter weather of the Land of Tea, and she felt almost as if she'd freeze if she stayed here for too long! But she had business here, and she would see too it before she retreated back to warmer weather. Soon, her boat arrive to the port, and Zo carefully stepped off the floating contraption, watching her step as she did so. After paying the ferry, the woman took a look around. Honestly, the village was in better shape than she imagined. For some reasno when it came to other countries she was always prepared to be disappointed, everything at home was so rich and cultural that most places paled in comparison; but there was something different here. Zorja rubbed her hands together, then set off to her first destination; upon arriving she had seen an inn along the shore. Surely, if she was to find any information, it would most likely be there.
▰ Raigyo emotive moves are more effective on the opposing gender, due to natural tendencies ▰ Due to the way the Dojutsu uses chakra networks and tenketsu, one can remove themselves from the jutsu effects in the same fashion as Genjutsu ▰ The Dojutsu usage is not able to be picked up by other Dojutsu ▰ All Ninjutsu are capable of being used with the eyes only, for fifty percent more chakra ▰ Use of the medium, 'flowers' or 'petals', is necessary to create the desired emotive results. Destruction of these greatly diminishes the Raigyo's abilities ▰ Heart of the Merchant Princess: Zorja gains 1.5x the amount of ryo for any mission or job completed ▰ Lover of the Lotus: When using her preferred medium of Lotus flowers, petal jutsu gains a slight increase to speed
✿￤ Other Additives
▰ Painting Pictures: The user is able to perform on their insturment like they are performing hand seals, making brilliant ninjutsu appear. This ability comes at the cost of not being able to perform genjutsu through performance or instrument. Can perform B rank ninjutsu and lower at gennin, A rank at Chunnin, and S rank at Jounin. At Konin, all ninjutsu cost 5 less chakra to perform if performed through an instrument or performance. at Sannin, ninjutsu cost 10 less chakra if performed through instrument or performance. ▰ Blood Knight: Your bloodline techniques possess greater power, allowing them to overwhelm techniques of the same rank, and preventing them from succumbing to elemental weaknesses of techniques the same rank. Can cast bloodline techniques through one-handed seals.
✿￤ Jutsu Used / Learned
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Posted: Mon Aug 22, 2016 5:36 pm
Wulfram Dierk Armistead:
The dark haired knight smirked as he thought of the months spent repairing the barracks to the slight glory he had achieved, the few friends he had made, Lady Asami, Shigeru, that odd Bunji fellow. Tossing the tack of Cervantes' saddle over the large beast, smirking as he did so and the horse retorted with a small kick, the buckles rattling, the leather stretching, and the fabric pulling. Wulfram tugged it all tight and began setting the rest of the aperature into place. Hooking the cart into the appropriate placements, he brushed his hands carefully over the horse's frame a few times to quiet him, to soothe his large friend.
"Shhh, shhh. It's alright boy. We're going home soon. If Ganymede is still out there after all this time, she's doing far better than me. Hell, I bet she's just as rough and tumble as I've been, and without the help of a majestic stallion like yourself to get there." He chuckled to himself as he pat the equine on the back of the neck and moved to begin lifting crates of fabric and lumber into the back of the cart.
"Don't know why the ******** we came to this place, aside from her. Shouldn't have bothered setting roots when I didn't find her immediately. Ah, by the hells, it coul' be worse, couldn't it buddy." He said as he loaded up the last few crates.
The last item to go into the cart was an anvil, a two-hundrend and ten pound monstrosity, london patterned, quite the rare find in these lands, that he had managed to get his hands on. Patting it as he set the rear gate on the cart, he would then climb into the front of the cart and with a slight pull of the straps, send his horse into a march towards the docks.
Masahiro Hama Hatake:
The Sealing Sword Saint made his way through the old district of Takumi, hands wandering over old sculptures and across the facades of buildings he had known from his younger years as he traversed the memories of years long passed. The smile on his face remained and he let himself begin to sing as he thought of the situation at hand, and just what it all meant as he continued forward with where he planned. Back to Europe, back to where it all began, and hopefully where it all ended. Where the beast inside of his soul took root. His left hand rose and set over his heart and he felt the stirring of his inner demons as he felt the madness in his soul and mind flourish up. His chakra flared and white lightning danced around his frame for a few moments, until it came to settle. He travelled light, but where he was going, it would be harder to fit in if he had nothing to blend it.
Raising his right hand he coursed chakra through his gauntlets and with a bright flash of white light across his body a suit of steel armor, ala Tadesca pattern, materialized across his frame. Pulling the helmet into his hand, he tucked his plait of hair into the armor, and then pulled on his fabric coif and the helmet. Changing heading straight for the docks, he continued to sing.
"Wrap me in a bolt of lightning Send me on my way still smiling. Maybe that's the way I should go, Straight into the mouth of the unknown."
He began, his eyes scanning the area around him as he hit the port authority and declared what he had upon himself, removing his weaponry for inspection, before continuing on with his song.
"I left the spare key on the table Never really thought I'd be able to say I merely visit on the weekends I lost my whole life and a dear friend."
The guard looked up to him and began to hum the tune alongside him, the pair of them nodding in time as Masahiro held the helmet in his hand. Once they finished the inspection
"I finally put it all together, But nothing really lasts forever I had to make a choice that was not mine, I had to say goodbye for the last time."
He carried on along his way to the ship, sidling up beside another knight, who rode on a cart drawn by a horse. The man looked down to him with a smirk and patted the seat beside him.
Wulfram and Masahiro:
Masahiro clambered into the seat next to the stranger, his armor not hindering him much as he did so. The stranger offered him a cloak to cover the steel with as he sat beside him, and the pair sat in discussion for a while of the matters to come and the journey.
It would truly be a long road and boat ride to come. But the days were ones they could count together on the seas.
[ [ I bid you, adieu. Masahiro and Wulfram have exited the Shinobi Nations. ] ]
Making his way to the docks, Yasu quickly located the dockmaster. Once he had found the mans office he gave the door a quick rap before pushing it open. Giving a polite smile to the man he explained the situation and circumstances of the villages order. Though he also informed him that there was no special need for these ships right this moment and that they had all the time they would need to ensure stable production measures. Pulling out the scroll the hokage had given him he rolled it open and lightly pressed his palm against it. As he did so several bundled stacks of Ryo appeared. Thirty thousand ryo to be exact. Payment for the ships and crew needed to man them. While he waited for the man to finish up the contract he admired the numerous models of ships that adorned the mans office. Much to his great regret he knew next to nothing about naval construction or warfare. Though he was soon returned to the moment when the man handed him the contract back. With a nod he took it and signed his place sealing the deal. Thanking the man he turned and headed back into the city. He really needed a drink.
[exit]
Posted: Mon Mar 20, 2017 10:45 am
In a clearing in the trees a short walk downstream of the commotion of the docks crouched a red-haired young man completely motionlessly. He had covered himself in a suit of twigs and leaves and was staring out at the area with piercing blue eyes, which were the only things that would give his position away. The rest of the clearing and some of the area around it was covered in slightly disturbed leaves--disturbed enough that it was clear something had been there recently, but not enough that it looked like something was still there. At certain points invisible to all but the sharpest eyes traps were hidden, lying in wait for whatever creature the hunter was pursuing.
Chunin l B - Rank l Wanderer l Chakra - 655/655 l Stamina - 640/640
"I am the sword in the Darkness...
Day 13
I reached the port without much of a hassle. Wayland said it was two hundred meters down river, that was where I would find Alexei. He had also mentioned something about traps. If he was serious about not getting caught, these traps might have been made of metal, for the most part. I placed my hands in the ram seal and pushed it against my chest and moved forward. There was no metal near my yet, and there was none for about five minutes. Once I felt metal near me, I released chakra and turned all the Iron, Steel, and stone that was not on me, or any other person into Iron Sand, or rock dust that was magnetized by my chakra. Once the sand was created and was settled, I let it crawl through the ground, sweeping every inch of the area around me to trigger any trap I had not deactivated by turning some components into Iron Sand, as a precaution. As my sand moved about, I cleared my throat. “Alexei.” I called out the man’s name loudly. As I did, I unwrapped my hands from the seal. “I was told you’re hunting a mythical creature. Maybe I can be of some help.” I crossed my arms and stood, waiting for a response from the man, if he was even here to begin wish. I wasn’t even sure he was here, all I saw was grass.
Ryo: 3395 AC: 9530
OOC:
Technique Used:
Passives:
Vitality: Bukijutsu techniques refund cost equivalent to two ranks lower (E-C refund 5, B refunds 10, A refunds 20 and S refunds 40) if the user has trained in the weapon's respective formless style bracket. Army of One: Through training, Axel has learned to self Korabo his elements in complex and spiritual bukijutsu techniques at one rank lower cost. Formless: Medium Sized Sword [Katana] B Rank Formless: Longbow D Rank Way of the Warrior [Discipline Benefi]t: Your serene mind allows you to detect genjutsu you are trapped within that are two or more ranks below your own status rank, and your tempered body allows you to wear thick armor that a ninja would otherwise be dragged to their knees by. Weapon Master [Discipline Benefit]: Their depth and devotion to the weapon arts allows their skill to increase with every rank allowing their weapons to cut through defensive bukijutsu techniques of the same rank. Specialization Bonus: - 5 Chakra and -10 stamina for Buki Techs Mori Strength Bonus: +.2 In Strength Total Bow Draw Strength: 60lbs Satetsu Bonus: Moderate reduction in lightning damage Insight Rain: The user will practice extending themselves into the atmosphere, in a sense. After much dedication, the user develops the ability to sense hostile intent in the immediate area. As to where, however, they cannot be sure. Skill - Multitasking: While the first two stages of the style revolve around the very basics of how to use a bow, the third stage incorporates the use multiple arrows into a more stylish way of battling. Mastery allows the user to simultaneously fire multiple arrows with any technique that does not specifically state otherwise, and allows the Arrow Creation technique to create up to three arrows at once with no increase in cost. Lack of Conviction: Due to breaking the Bushido code [Respect], while actively utilizing this style, their attacks will lack conviction. ( Every attack hits as if it were one rank lower, and complex attacks consume [25] additional chakra.
...I am the shield that guards the realm of men."
Ergo War
Posted: Fri Mar 24, 2017 9:37 am
As a few pieces of metal--about eight kunai's worth--turned to dust, several traps in the area were sprung. Fortunately, this amounted to nothing more than a few branches swinging up harmlessly, completely missing all persons in the area.
"Stop right where you are," Alexei's smooth tenor voice echoed out of seemingly nowhere. "Don't come a single step closer or you'll trigger something nasty."
Axel's iron sand wouldn't detect anything out of the ordinary in the area, but it also didn't sound like the disembodied voice was lying. Interestingly, if Axel were to try tracing back the origin of the voice, he would find a clearly artificial robin in a nearby tree, a dummy animal set up to make the area seem safe.
"You're all the same, just waltzing out here with no regard for personal safety or good hunting practice," the voice complained bitterly. "Do you have any idea how long it took to set up those traps just right? It takes a while to hide everything just right. 'Help'? What do you know of trapping or the Lunar Rabbit, huh? Just go. I'm doing just fine on my own and I won't have this ruined by someone I don't know."
((Edit: Text color came out a bit lighter than thought.))
Chunin l B - Rank l Wanderer l Chakra - 655/655 l Stamina - 640/640
"I am the sword in the Darkness...
Day 13
I crossed my arms as I heard the voice speaking, and then scoffed. Did he think that I would be afraid of a little trap? Well, I was, seeing as I didn’t move, instead, I drew all the Iron Sand toward me, and then made it hit the ground hard to trigger any trap that was in front of me. If nothing was triggered I moved through the space my sand had hit. “I know a thing or two about them, I grew up around these parts.” I lied to him, it was the only way to get him to come out. “But I won’t tell you anything unless its face to face. I need to know what you look like to get my share, that is of course if you’re going to sell it. If its just for sport, that’s all together fine by me.” Eventually my jumping ball of iron sand stopped in front of the river. I stopped close behind it, shifting my eyes from one side to the other, always weary of my surroundings, trying to find Alexei.
Ryo: 3395 AC: 9530
OOC: If Axel does step on a trap, disregard everything in my post after he steps on it.
Technique Used:
Passives:
Vitality: Bukijutsu techniques refund cost equivalent to two ranks lower (E-C refund 5, B refunds 10, A refunds 20 and S refunds 40) if the user has trained in the weapon's respective formless style bracket. Army of One: Through training, Axel has learned to self Korabo his elements in complex and spiritual bukijutsu techniques at one rank lower cost. Formless: Medium Sized Sword [Katana] B Rank Formless: Longbow D Rank Way of the Warrior [Discipline Benefi]t: Your serene mind allows you to detect genjutsu you are trapped within that are two or more ranks below your own status rank, and your tempered body allows you to wear thick armor that a ninja would otherwise be dragged to their knees by. Weapon Master [Discipline Benefit]: Their depth and devotion to the weapon arts allows their skill to increase with every rank allowing their weapons to cut through defensive bukijutsu techniques of the same rank. Specialization Bonus: - 5 Chakra and -10 stamina for Buki Techs Mori Strength Bonus: +.2 In Strength Total Bow Draw Strength: 60lbs Satetsu Bonus: Moderate reduction in lightning damage Insight Rain: The user will practice extending themselves into the atmosphere, in a sense. After much dedication, the user develops the ability to sense hostile intent in the immediate area. As to where, however, they cannot be sure. Skill - Multitasking: While the first two stages of the style revolve around the very basics of how to use a bow, the third stage incorporates the use multiple arrows into a more stylish way of battling. Mastery allows the user to simultaneously fire multiple arrows with any technique that does not specifically state otherwise, and allows the Arrow Creation technique to create up to three arrows at once with no increase in cost. Lack of Conviction: Due to breaking the Bushido code [Respect], while actively utilizing this style, their attacks will lack conviction. ( Every attack hits as if it were one rank lower, and complex attacks consume [25] additional chakra.
