Sake, Swords and Destiny (Private)
Nov 16, 2022 0:55:21 GMT -5
Post by Katsuro Yamamoto on Nov 16, 2022 0:55:21 GMT -5
Akira Tokoyama.
A name associated with reverence in the Crescent Isle, the Tokoyama family producing fabled warriors that ascended the ranks of the Starlight Militia. Her father was no exception. Yet, she was the disgrace, this Akira. A wild soul who could not be tamed, she had exiled herself from her own House in search of adventure. Though, even the legendary mustangs of King's Valley could be broken. This was the task Katsuro was assigned.
To bring her home at any cost.
He had heard dark rumors at court of a demonic possession, how it bound itself to Akira to a mutual benefit rather than control. Heresay, perhaps, or so the ninja thought to himself. It was of little matter in any case. Thus with a scroll in hand, by order of the Tokoyama family itself he set off into the night. From beyond the paper walls and elaborate joinery of the family's castle and into the cherry blossom gardens of the estate. Leaping over the stone wall and finding cover in the shadows as his tabi boots gracefully buried into the grass on the other side. His gear was light. Dampened with silk cloth and woven fabric of darkest shade, he continued into Starlight City.
Her local fame and family ties would make it difficult to escape a seasoned spy, no less one born to the Iron Lotus Clan. He listened to the whispers of drunkards, the gossip of Kubuki preformers and the chatter of traveling merchants. Always at bay, just within earshot.
Approximately two days later, a sailor spoke of a beautiful woman matching her description on a wharf in a small village just outside of Starlight City. A mere hours travel and little more. Katsuro made haste regardless, as fast as his feet could carry him.
As the sun was setting on the Crescent Isle, he spotted a large ship being boarded with a number of supplies. Lowering himself behind a number of fishing nets, he approached the docks slowly on its flank. A number of crates seemed to be marked with the stamp of a royal family, the ink smeared and hard to recognize. Barrels of rice were hoisted into the air with ropes and rolled upwards onto the ship's main deck and into the cargo hold. She was attempting to flee. The Demon Brand would be wise to conceal herself, so his eyes darted across the mass of sailors and merchants, looking for those who seemed willfully dull. He found nothing from his point, he needed to get closer. The sun reflected across the rolling waves as he leaped down, planting his feet into knee high water. Utilizing the dock above to mask his movements along with its racket, he rushed forward towards the keel of the ship. His gloved hands gripped firmly the barnacle encrusted wood and began to scale towards the rear of the hulking vessel.
Dexterously yet timely, he found himself at the window in the captain's quarters. Gazing through the glass at a pair alone. A Tanuki, the raccoon folk of the Isle and a woman with fiery hair. He watched their words carefully and to his advantage as he pulled the window open slowly, allowing the voices to mask the subtle creak of iron hinges. His veiled form then entered the cabin, finding a large shadow opportune to shield him from sight.
A name associated with reverence in the Crescent Isle, the Tokoyama family producing fabled warriors that ascended the ranks of the Starlight Militia. Her father was no exception. Yet, she was the disgrace, this Akira. A wild soul who could not be tamed, she had exiled herself from her own House in search of adventure. Though, even the legendary mustangs of King's Valley could be broken. This was the task Katsuro was assigned.
To bring her home at any cost.
He had heard dark rumors at court of a demonic possession, how it bound itself to Akira to a mutual benefit rather than control. Heresay, perhaps, or so the ninja thought to himself. It was of little matter in any case. Thus with a scroll in hand, by order of the Tokoyama family itself he set off into the night. From beyond the paper walls and elaborate joinery of the family's castle and into the cherry blossom gardens of the estate. Leaping over the stone wall and finding cover in the shadows as his tabi boots gracefully buried into the grass on the other side. His gear was light. Dampened with silk cloth and woven fabric of darkest shade, he continued into Starlight City.
Her local fame and family ties would make it difficult to escape a seasoned spy, no less one born to the Iron Lotus Clan. He listened to the whispers of drunkards, the gossip of Kubuki preformers and the chatter of traveling merchants. Always at bay, just within earshot.
Approximately two days later, a sailor spoke of a beautiful woman matching her description on a wharf in a small village just outside of Starlight City. A mere hours travel and little more. Katsuro made haste regardless, as fast as his feet could carry him.
As the sun was setting on the Crescent Isle, he spotted a large ship being boarded with a number of supplies. Lowering himself behind a number of fishing nets, he approached the docks slowly on its flank. A number of crates seemed to be marked with the stamp of a royal family, the ink smeared and hard to recognize. Barrels of rice were hoisted into the air with ropes and rolled upwards onto the ship's main deck and into the cargo hold. She was attempting to flee. The Demon Brand would be wise to conceal herself, so his eyes darted across the mass of sailors and merchants, looking for those who seemed willfully dull. He found nothing from his point, he needed to get closer. The sun reflected across the rolling waves as he leaped down, planting his feet into knee high water. Utilizing the dock above to mask his movements along with its racket, he rushed forward towards the keel of the ship. His gloved hands gripped firmly the barnacle encrusted wood and began to scale towards the rear of the hulking vessel.
Dexterously yet timely, he found himself at the window in the captain's quarters. Gazing through the glass at a pair alone. A Tanuki, the raccoon folk of the Isle and a woman with fiery hair. He watched their words carefully and to his advantage as he pulled the window open slowly, allowing the voices to mask the subtle creak of iron hinges. His veiled form then entered the cabin, finding a large shadow opportune to shield him from sight.