A Sanguinary Calm. [P]

[chiatsuki]

Continuance; Samurai Soldier

A flush of wind would caress your silhouette as you made your way past what looked like a small village. Your eyes would transition to a place where the two samurai you followed had chosen to go- you would probably have a hard time deciphering where they were exactly headed seeing as the path was covered in nothing but trees. Although it looked like summertime it'd feel like winter upon your very shoulders as the mighty chilling wind swirled around you- never ending. Upon a hill draped in plush grass a great monument built in stone sits. A kanji for the word 'warrior' sits high above the top of the dojo- you would be able to notice this at first glance. From inside and out its walls would hum in the sound of clashing metal whilst samurai guards sit at bay, watching whomever chooses to enter the samurai dojo. They themselves are only pillars to the initial test. As the two samurai elders walk past the guards they would nod, showing them what loot they pillaged off of the samurai prince. He had gotten too hot headed in his stay within the dojo – it would all result in him being shunned by the entirety of tetsu no kuni. . . whether or not you would make the same mistakes as he did would be hidden beneath a sheet of curiosity as your steps led you to the entrance. One of the samurai guards would approach you as his palm outstretched, signaling for you to stop.

“Why is it that you wish to enter the samurai compound?”

The voice of a much older man would boom out into your ears. The sound of clapping metal would become evident as he made his way to you - his samurai brazen was heavy but through his years he'd become accustomed to its weight. He would await your riposte with an analytical mind.

[That Guy]

Amon still wore the straw hat he had lifted off of a merchant on his way to the compound tilted low and covering his head as well as from the bridge of his nose up. As the guard approached in his sturdy army clanking heavily along the path he posed a question to the swordsman in a booming commanding voice. Amon's hand casually fell to the hilt of his own katana resting their but not gripping the handle as though to draw. This small motion had become a reaction over his traveling and years of training, to have his hand beside his katana seemed to be the only way to ensure he had some control over what would happen next. Without raising his head Amon gave his answer in a serious deep tone to the commanding voice of the samurai.

"I've come to prove myself worthy of joining the ranks of the mighty samurai. I understand that not only have you lost a member, but you've retrieved his weapons and armor so I literally have some shoes to fill. If you believe me to be unworthy of the order, then test me..."

At this point in the swordsman's entrance he reached up with his spare hand pulling the back down and back off of the top of his head down to his back hanging from a thin leather chord that hung from his neck. His afro hair that had been concealed with in the conical straw hat now expanded and flowed into the cold harsh winds. Amon's eyes were as cold and harsh as the winds themselves as he had filled his heart and mind with steel wool in preparation for what tests the samurai may have in store for him. This was going to be his day, and not even the samurai themselves could make him back down from any challenge they offered.

"I welcome it."

[chiatsuki]

Through his sanguinary calm a tension was building, through every vein, as he listened to what Amon had to say. Not many men were foolish enough to challenge a samurai this easily, especially considering the rumor of the legendary samurai compound being a place that no man left from. It simply wasn’t the way of the ronin to fight at will with men whom wanted to test their own strength- and it never has been. As the young Amon placed his hand upon the tip of his hilt the elder Yogozuni would simply decipher the boys’ true motives, calculating his every move as if analyzing an ulterior motive within the presence of this challenger. Eyes of gold would engage the stature of this eager boy whom claimed to be filling the shoes of Igozumi, the prince of the samurai compound. Needless to say – Yogozuni could have easily taken down this boy with but a simple thought, but it was not for him to decide the fate of the young Amon.. that would be placed within the hands of the king. An abrupt chuckle, meant to disturb the young Amon in his ‘speech’, would abruptly manifest into a sniveling cowl created from underneath Yogozuni’s helmet. His eyes watched with serenity to the pureness of the boys aura – his lifeless arms which had henceforth been pockets for his hands would come onto the hilt of his own blade, mirroring the young man before him as he questioned himself of the bloodlust this boy had.

“I see…… and you are willing to put your life on the line just to prove yourself worthy?”

[That Guy]

Amon simply ignored the man's grunt without pause and continued his opening speech uninterrupted. From what he had seen of the exile and what this guard was trying to do of his childish attempt to interrupt Amon, these warriors had boisterous egos. He would not play into their childish games and their attempts to belittle him, he was here to prove he was strong enough to join them. He didn't blink or show any reaction at all to the samurai mirroring him as he too placed his own hand upon the hilt of his sword. No need to be anxious of the warrior merely resting his hand upon the hilt of his sword after all.

- “I see…… and you are willing to put your life on the line just to prove yourself worthy?” -

Amon stared back at the swordsman emotionless with a placid face, he had survived scarier things than this in the catacombs beneath konohagakure no sato. The struggle for his life down in that hellish dungeon was the true stuff nightmares were made of, the man before him was just that. A man with a sword standing before him, a mighty samurai and to be feared and respected most assuredly but a man could be beaten. More than that though, Amon had no qualms with putting his life on the line for others. Becoming a samurai would give him the title, strength, and training to save more lives than he ever could on his own. After considering the question for a moment in silence he gave a somber nod to the samurai.

[chiatsuki]

Yogozuni would turn his back to the young Amon- but not before gesturing him to follow with a slight wave of his hand after seeing the boy nod in agreement with his sentence. You will know soon what it means to put ones life on the line.. He would say to himself as he passed his footsteps brought him onto the entrance of the dojo. Yogozuni’s head would turn to make sure you had followed him- his hands would press upon a wooden like door- it would snap open at an instant, revealing men in white dojo clothing. Blood tainted the floors and the smell of rotten flesh would soon enter your nostrils. His arm would raise, pointing dead on within the center of the dojo as you stepped to his side.

“You must speak with the samurai king. He will decide whether or not you are worthy in joining the order of the ronin. . .”

With that, Yogozuni would turn, tapping you slightly on the shoulder for comfort as he made his way back to his post. Before your eyes dead bodies could be seen being shuffled out of the way of the arena floor. A pale faced skinny boy could be seen, huffing, within the center of the dojo battlefield. To that boys diagonal right, upon a wooden throne, a giant man could be seen sitting… glaring at you from the very moment you appeared. His hand would raise within the air- halting whatever fight had been going on between the young men within the center of his view.

“What is the nature of your arrival, young man?”

He would say from a good twenty meters away.

[That Guy]

Following after the samurai Amon soon found himself lead into the dojo. Inside the mess of training the men in white clothes was lousy with blood tainted ground and rotten pungence in the very air he breathed. Amon resisted the urge to reach for his tobacco pouch to roll a cigarette to mask the odor, but it would've been disrespectful at such a serious moment. As Amon strode abreast of the samurai that had lead him into this den of wolves the samurai would gesture straight ahead.

- “You must speak with the samurai king. He will decide whether or not you are worthy in joining the order of the ronin. . .” -

The man was a giant upon a wooden throne glaring dangerously at Amon who looked back with a cold determined stare. The samurai who lead Amon turned back giving him a pat on the shoulder and leaving the way he had come in. Not very reassuring that the guard who had come off as cold was now sympathizing for Amon in his situation. The fighting and training within the room came a sudden stop as the man held his hand up. Corpses were removed from what Amon assumed was their arena and he king spoke aloud to Amon.

- "What is the nature of your arrival, young man?" -

Amon held the hilt of his katana a little tighter in reaction to this far more dangerous scenario he was now in but still he had come for a reason. He lowered himself onto his knees and bowing low to the ground before the king of the greatest soldiers in the world for a moment he then raised his head to face the king and answered.

"Sir. I have trained my entire life learning kenjutsu and my own bushido all in preparation for this day. At long last the day has come for me to prove myself strong enough to join your order... or die trying."

[adero]

+25 TG
+18 Soh

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