Forum adverts like this one are shown to any user who is not logged in. Join us by filling out a tiny 3 field form and you will get your own, free, dakka user account which gives a good range of benefits to you: No adverts like this in the forums anymore. Times and dates in your local timezone. Full tracking of what you have read so you can skip to your first unread post, easily see what has changed since you last logged in, and easily see what is new at a glance. Email notifications for threads you want to watch closely. Being a part of the oldest wargaming community on the net. If you are already a member then feel free to login now.

The sun rises and a blood red sky looms overhead, a gentle wind brings with it the scent of cherry blossoms and the subtle scent of burning wood. The path that leads downwards in gentle curves are surrounded by now yellowish fields of rice and wheat.
In this rural and seemingly peaceful surroundings a lone wanderer walks towards a destination that lies somewhere beyond the emerald green hills, his pace is the one of a man who walks in peace with himself and the world. He wore a dark blue silk kimono and wooden sandals on his dusty feet.

But what signalled for all to see his real status was the two swords that hung on his hip, a long slender blade that was the twin of the other blade he carried. Both swords had been forged long ago in the far north by skilled smiths that had forged the shining blades from the iron pulled from the icy rivers.
He wore his hair loose around his shoulders and a slight grimace of discomfort showed that the traveller was weary of the long road or had run afoul with some unseen obstacle somewhere behind him.
As the man walked he passed farmers and other members of the lower classes that bowed deep in respect or was it fear for this man who grazed their life’s.
As he walked into the town he had seen from afar for most of the day he looked for a place to rid himself of his thirst and hunger, seeing one such place he walked towards the front door and gently pushed it open.
The interior reeked of smoke, beer and sweat. So much for the civilized life he thought and entered the inn.

He stepped over a old dog that lay snoring in front of the counter and looked around for a bartender or innkeeper of sorts, he made a simple gesture and the middle aged man approached while wiping his hands on a rag.

“What can I offer you? Beer, food or a whore for the night” the sweaty man asked and scratched his chin.

The traveller looked at this foul individual and said in a somewhat displeased tone.
“Water and whatever passes for food in this somewhat unwashed establishment. I do hope that is a task you can manage?”
the innkeeper nodded and walked of into what seemed like the kitchen with a series of half heard curses on his lips, let him mutter and growl. Even people like him needs to have an illusion of freedom or a allowance to eke out their days in poverty.

He found a free seat outside and sat down, his gaunt features reflected the sun and he felt tired. Reaching for his prayer bead he tried to shut out the sounds of daily life around him while he seeked comfort and solace in prayer.
The food came alongside the water that was to his surprise ice cold. The serving girl however made him wish for blindness, that was clearly someone who spent to much time eating butter and drinking all the sake.
As he begun to eat he noticed she had not left him alone yet. Feeling irritated with this fat sow he was about to threaten her with a beating if she did not disappear.
But it seemed that was not to be.

Rambling down the street came a large procession of drunk and very loud men, it seemed the heat and the promise of more alcohol had drawn the vermin out of the woodwork.
He felt his guts churn at this wrenched sight, such behaviour was a disgrace to the world and to the very nature of this land.
But he decided to not get involved, let them all drink until they die he thought and resumed eating.

The drunks entered the inn and resumed their drinking. Outside sat the traveller and fumed, he did not intend to sit here and liens to this nonsense any more. Let them die in that foul place he thought and rose from his seat to pay for his meal and drink.
As he rose a scream echoed out from the inn.

By the fury of the Shogun he growled and listen with keen ears, inside a woman was weeping and men yelled and laughed loudly.
He heard the noise of bottles falling to the floor and the tell tale ripping of cloths.
While he stood there contemplating his options he heard the same female voice call out, this time with a clear tone of fear and terror in it.

This sealed the contemplating, June Kawazi drew his gleaming katana and opened the same door he had entered a few hours ago.
Inside he saw two frighted girls in ripped cloths and weeping like it was the end of days surrounded by the same drunks that had passed him not long ago.
The men had clearly more than drinking on their degenerated minds.
The first to die was a short and bald man, he stood there almost giggling when a blossom of red sprayed up from his neck, with a gurgle a gleaming point of steel jutted out from his fat neck. He toppled down and lay silently bleeding on the unwashed floor.
The demise of their fat friend made the rest aware of something new in this place of revelry.
June flicked the blood of his blade and walked forwards blade leading the way. The drunkards drew daggers and clubs, howled threats and came on like a avalanche of unwashed bodies and sweat mixed with fear.

Yes he thought as his sword struck like a streak of silver this would perhaps prove to be a good night after all. He stepped back and blocked a swipe from a blade and punched one drunk hard in the lower regions while preforming a disembowelling cut. Somewhere around him one man lost the control of his bowls and tainted the floor with his bodily waste.

It all ended very fast, seeing their fellow drunkards dying like lambs on the butcher bench made the survivor flee while shouting in fear.

Nice start - is June a samurai or ronin?

Hmm dunno yet, I wanted to test the waters with this first part. But most likly he will be a Samurai

Excellently written. I assume this will be somewhat like 300, taking real events and places but exaggerating them. Of course, this is already better than 300. 300, despite its awesome fight scenes, was pretty gakky.

But this isn't Sparta.

The cart hauling the dead away kicked up dust as it rolled out of the town, inside the inn a lone servant was busy washing the bloodstained floor, while the locals stood crowded outside and discussed the mayhem that had unfolded last evening.
They all agreed on one thing, they where all lucky the Samurai had shown such compassion that he did not order the inn burnt down for offending his noble nature.
But there where those who had witnessed the incident and those few where of a different opinion. None of the men who had raised a hand against the traveller still lived, his almost savage intervention had saved the two daughters of the inn keeper from getting raped but still, slaughtering drunks was somewhat too much for these peaceful folk.
But no one dared raise their disapproval when the local law enforcement was present, saying such things about Samurai or even ronnin was not a wise move.

The man in question was already on the move, June walked with a head filled with thoughts. Much occupied his mind and several things would need addressing before he reached his destination. Overhead the sun baked the land below with its rays and a blue sky heralded another day with warm winds and the gentle rustling in the grass and high hedges.
It was on days like these and those in the fall when the leaves dropped and the promise of snow filled the air that he felt alive, gone where the troubles of this world and only peace reigned.
As he reached a small stream where he removed his sandals to wade across he noted from the figure attempting to hide from sight in the corner of his left eye.
So she still hung on, well she had stamina at least he thought and a unintended smile found his lips.
Not waiting he walked across the river and put his sandals back on, without waiting he walked on with the same confident pace that one could almost imagine a tiger to have.


His somewhat unwanted follower did to cross the stream, but without removing her sandals. She felt her breath go in a almost painful pace, she had fled away from the small town that she had been forced to live in for so long. Even if the Samurai thought her ugly and irritating he could at least show her the way to somewhere else, it was not like anyone would come looking for her. All she got at home was verbal abuse and rude remarks, she had decided that she would not wither away and die in that cesspit of a inn.
She tried to keep a good distance between her and the tall swordsman, just in case his anger should flare up again. No point in provoking a sleeping tiger she thought.

Suddenly she could no longer see him, her hearth sank when she realized he must have taken another path, or simply left her. The girl had never had high dreams but the dreams of a better life had always stuck with her, now her last chance was gone like a straw in a autumn storm.

Notting could have prepared her for the sheer terror she felt in her hearth when a familiar voice came from behind her.

“You know, following people and trying to hide may be perceived as a act of aggression by lesser men. However seeing how you struggle to draw breath when trying to keep up or that you lack even the essentials for travelling I assume you want to accompany me?”

The sound of sandals on the dusty road came closer and he walked up in front of her. He stood tall and gripped the pommel of his katana with one while the other held a fan.
Not waiting for a reply he continued.
“I normally travel alone, and with good reason as you will discover if you insist to tag along. But if you wish to do so know this, you will need to keep up and to be able not to keep babbling at all times. I prefer silence but I have been known to enjoy a conversation at times.”

After this somewhat unconventional introduction between travelling companions she managed to reply in a low and almost trembling voice.
“ I wanted to thank you for what you did, I know a noble man like you have no obligation towards a simple serving girl like me but thank you! I cant pay you more than a few yen unless you wish me to sell my hair to further increase the reward.”

Breathing and steeling her self she finished her introduction to the man.

“ I don’t mind silence, just as long as its a good silence that is. My name is Ashane Chokosabe and I will be honoured to share your road Samurai” she said and bowed for him.

June felt once again for the second time this day a smile on his lips, perhaps he needed some company. And that did indeed seem to be somewhat bright and with a will of its own. And beside, who knew if a few weeks on the road could do her some good anyhow.
For payment he would ask, disposing of such vermin was something he looked upon as a part of his duty to both Shogun and ancestors in the heavens above.
His answer to her was now clear in his mind as he brushed a strain of hair away from his face and adjusted his belt.

“Very well, if you wish to accompany me do so. And no payment is required, not yen or any other form of payment. And keep your hair long, it dose you justice that way Ashana. My name is June Kawazi.”

with those words the two began to walk, Samurai and saviour of serving girls first and the former serving girl walked behind and gazed at the man in front of her.

Being a history fanatic, the main criticisms I can provide are mainly historical. However, as Lone Lictor said, it is certainly ok to disregard them for artistic license.

A lone Samurai would be considered very suspicious. He wouldn't be trusted by anyone. Where is his Lord? Which clan does he serve?

This story would work better if he was a Ronin, a masterless samurai. He'd be shunned, but he wouldn't have any obligations to anyone. This is the type of samurai made famous by the films of Akira Kurosawa.

Also, katana's should never, ever, be used to stab or block. They are slashing weapons, and break very easily.

Other than that, the style works, though some proofreading would be good, I caught quite a few spelling mistakes, but that's understandable.

Thanks for the feedback, dose anyone know the name of the currency used in Japan at that time. And regarding his clan and status all will be reveald soon, but I am grateful for pointing out what you did

I'm assuming this is before the Meiji restoration.

From 1376 on they used the Japanese Mon. A very complicated system.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_mon_(currency)

Interlude

Dawn broke and brought rain and a howling wind that chased away the memories of sunshine. The onset of this somewhat unwanted weather awoke a traveller sleeping beneath a warm dark blue kimono.
Ashana yawned and rubber her eyes and looked around, so the sun had given way to rain and here she lay under a kimono and slept like a child. Although said thing did not belong to her and that left just one option.
She go to her feet and looked around for her travelling companion or more like simply heading in the same direction type of companion was the more correct term for the odd duo.

Looking out onto the field that bordered the forest edge she saw him, he had disregarded the kimono he had worn the day before and was dressed in a simple grey one, but there was noting simple about the way he carried himself, holding his priced sword in both hands he seemed to ebb and flow back and forth as he practice in some manner unknown and deeply alien to her. His hair tied into a top knot and his face resembling a slab of stone he seemed to radiate controlled anger and skills honed over many years.
But what made her almost feel sorry for the man was that he seemed to be missing a ear and a long gruesome scar was visible above the neckline of his training cloth.

Suddenly he seemed to notice that he was no longer alone and stopped, sheathing his blade and releasing his hair and thus hiding his scars and deformity he simply looked first at the grey sky and then at her. His eyes seemed to drill holes in her and expose the vulnerable parts she had long ago learned to keep hidden.

It was he who first broke the silence that reigned between them in this tense moment of time.
“So you are awake, if I woke you I did not intend to do so. And before you ask or think the question but do not ask it, yes I am missing a part of me, however it is just an ear and noting I have not learned to compensate for.”

He walked towards her slowly while arranging his kimono and tying his belt hard around his waist, stopping beside her and giving her a look that almost made her swoon he continued to their camp site and packed the few things he had with him. As he looked around he saw noting that was forgotten and he rejoined his female companion.
“Lets rejoin the road shall we? I have no desire to stand about in the rain all day unless you feel a need to get soaking wet that is.” he said and crossed the field and stepped onto the road and waited.


Ashana felt her pulse gallop onwards like a herd of stampeding horses, this man who at one moment could treat her like a woman and then simply seem to forget she was near him almost drove her mad with desire. But there was something about him that made her hair stand on edge, it was very clear that he was no stranger to violence or the use of weapons. Nor a stranger to women for that mater it seemed.
She needed to keep this conversation going she decided and almost ran to catch up to him, he handed her a simple but effective umbrella and walked onwards when she did so.
“ So June, when did you become a Samurai? I can imagine it must have been very hard.” she said and almost immediately regretted it

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned around, his eyes seemed to blaze with murderous rage and his knuckles became white as they squeezed the hilt of his katana. His whole behaviour radiated with the promise of violence.
She covered and waited for the blow or kick that would signal her death. But noting came, he did not touch a hair on her head. Instead he let out a deep breath and seemed to fight some inner voice, when he answered her it was noting like what she expected.
“I thank you for the vote of confidence but I am no Samurai, or any longer that is. I am the last living member of my clan, my lord and kin died at the hands of someone who has for too long eluded me. The men that died back in your former home town was once in his service. I took an oath that I would not rest until the mongrel who took everything from me lies dead at my feet.”

He extended a sinewy and calloused hand and pulled her up while looking like a man who felt deeply ashamed to allow his feelings to run wild.
“ I am heading to one of the few places I can get hold of what I need to enact my revenge. For far too long it has been awaiting my return but now the days are soon at an end. So to answer your fair if somewhat painful question I am a ronnin, master less and shunned by all but a few it seems.”

Finishing his in reality half told tale looked at the frighted girl who held the umbrella like it was her only means of salvation. Perhaps a softer tone would be more fitting after this he thought and began to walk but this time in a much more slower pace.

Ashana stood there and felt her hearth daring to begin beating again, it was clear that there was more to this man than what she already had pulled from him. He was definitely a mystery to solve indeed. But her mind reeled still from the near death incident not many moments ago.

Very nicely written. It'll be very enjoyable to see that Samurai kick some ass.

This is the sort of thing I can get behind.Elements of Kurosawa, elements of Lone Wolf And Cub.

I'm impressed by how your descriptive style makes it instantly clear we're not in WH territory anymore. Nice work.

June cursed himself for letting his temper flare up like that, he knew it was a sign of weakness to allow your feelings to run wild. But he was still after all these years not fully healed emotionally nor did he expected to ever achieve true peace of mind and soul. Too much blood and too much anger had turned his mind from a peaceful oasis into a inferno of emotions and thoughts of hatred and violence, in many ways he sometimes thought he resembled a man who had lost sight of the light in the end of tunnel and would forever stumble around in a gloomy world until death claimed him.

Shaking these images out of his head he looked down on the muddy road, it was clear that where coming closer to a large town of sorts. Horse dung and deep cartwheel tracks decorated the weary road.
Stepping around a deep puddle he waited for the girl who over the days they had spent together had grown on him, no longer did he see a fat and clumsy girl but a timid yet determined young woman intent on making a better life for herself come hell or high water.
He felt a slow but steady trickle of rain water run down his neck and a slowly blossoming pain in his left shoulder set in.
Heaven knew he needed to get some warmth in him, and to sleep under a roof for a change, when his companion reached his side he gestured that she should lead on and set the pace. Even if he would have preferred to keep a brisk pace and reach the town before nightfall.
But he knew he needed to allow her to set the pace, and let her feel like she was not a simple hanger on.


They walked in silence for a long time, each of them simply keeping their eyes on the road, and on the fields that surrounded it.
As June took yet another step he bumped into Ashana and was about to ask her why in the name of the heavens she had stopped right in front of him, when he realized they where not alone out in the rain.
“June... I think we are about to be robbed” the girl said in a low trembling voice as she slipped behind June and seeked shelter behind his back.

He saw a band of men barring the way and several more coming out from behind a cops of trees, they all carried spears, swords and a few had bows in their hands. This did indeed look somewhat grim he thought.
As he stood there sheltering Ashana with his weary body he felt something stir in his chest, a urge to protect and stand in defence for those who could not defend themselves. His mind drifted back to a age when he watched in awe as his older brothers sparred and how the old instructor had trained him in the use of the weapons that signalled the worth of a Samurai. The day when he earned his own armour and the day it all came crashing down in a torrent of fire and blood. That day he had lost all and almost joined his dead kin, but faith wanted something else from him.

Snapping back to the present day he saw the leader of the bandits step fourth, or what passed as a leader at least.
“Oi ronnin! You seem to have not payeed the highway toll that we require for the use of this road. And one more thing....all women must be searched for illegal goods!” the brute said and laughed at his own horrid sense of humour.

June heard men move up from behind and prepare to lay hands on Ashana. Realizing he had no time to loose he told her in a low but ice cold voice.
“do not look, keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them, now run and hide!”


loosening his sword and planting his feet well apart he tied his hair up with a single move, fastening the belt around his waist he awaited their next move.

It came fast, two men armed with short blades came rushing at him while a third and a fourth ran after Ashana, when the two men was close enough June exploded into action. With a move practised and preformed countless times he had his sword ready to greet them in the blink of an eye, the katana with its shimmering blue edge flashed out and caught one man in the neck severing his artery and spraying blood into the air.
His fellow bandit saw the next blow and ducked and came up like a snake striking a mouse intending to gut this bastard of a ronnin.

June sidestepped the move and delivered a swirling kick to the head, dropping the man down on the muddy road.
But by then the rest of highway men had surrounded him, circling like a pack of wolfs they came at him hard and fast.
Dodging a jab from a sword and jerking back his head to avoid a arrow that wiped by he spun around and slashed in a sharp downward angle and severed the arm of someone intending to knife him in the side.

Blood coloured the mud crimson red and the sound steel on steel rang out in the air as men fought and died. He lost himself in the almost addictive rush of combat as he took the life of a scrawny spear armed teenager and ran one man trough with his own sword.
Suddenly the press of attackers eased and he stood alone amidst a collection of lost limbs and dying and dead men.

Ashana ran through the fields as if all the evils in the world was on her heels, behind her she heard the two bandits shout at her, promising all manners of unpleasant forms of punishment upon her curvy body.

Suddenly a loud thud was heard and one of the bandits cried out in pain and dropped to the ground, the other turned to see what had struck his fellow robber and received the same faith. He saw his friend lying face down in the dirt with a long slender bamboo arrow buried in his neck. He saw a similar arrow embedded in his left foot just below the knee, but what his blood freeze was the sight that greeted his eyes.
Walking across the fields came the same ronnin they had stopped just moments ago, in one hand he carried a katana and over his shoulder hung a bow he realized as one of the bows belonging to another bandit.

He tried to get up but his strength had left him and he resorted to crawling like a small child.

June saw the distant figures running across the fields and aimed his newly acquired bow, letting out a deep breath and calming his nerves he quickly let two arrows speed towards the two figures nearest to him.
Archery was the thing he had always mastered without any need for much practice. And it was easily seen when both his targets dropped down.

“live as vermin, die as vermin” he muttered to the wind as he set about walking towards his prey in a slow and steady pace.

Nicely written. The only advice I have is to include more little details in the combat, like " the katana with its shimmering blue edge flashed out and caught one man in the neck." Those little details are what make it vivid.

Will do for the next instalment, I think I need to ramp up the gore factor perhaps?

I do not think so. Not so much gore but try to be a bit more detailed. I think.

Anyway, very nice overall Really enjoyed it.

Will do my best to achive that zen mix of detail and gore then. Glad you liked it

Cower in a trench people, for Trondheim is getting zen.

The bandit moaned in pain as he tried to escape when he saw that infernal ronnin coming towards him. But as he managed to put a few meters between himself and the girl he felt a sandal clad foot squeezing down on his wounded foot.
He screamed in pain as the arrow rubbed against the bone and sent pain flaring up his through his body. This broke the already downed man who started to weep and beg for mercy as he was flipped around and lay with his face towards the sky.

June watched the bandit squirm in pain and felt a hint of satisfaction. Few things made him more displeased than bandits and other forms for criminal lowlifes, no mater how hard ones life was becoming a charlatan and robber was not the answer! Better to kill one self then and save oneself from the disgrace.
His mind snapped back to the task at hand, turning to see how Ashana had fared after her brush with these vermin.

“Did these men touch you or cause you harm?” he asked with something similar to concern in his voice.

She felt afraid but yet somehow safe, this mix of feelings that welled up in her made her head spin but she had at least managed to avoid any serious harm beside being tired and in need of a bath.
Looking at her saviour she could never have imagined herself being saved by such a a man just a few weeks ago. He radiated fury and something that was clearly not something he showed often.

“They tried but they did not lay a hand on me, although they certainly wanted to. They shouted all sorts of horrid things at me before you stopped them.” she said and looked at the dead and the wounded bandit with revulsion in her eyes.
Her moment of silent refection was shattered when the voice of June brought her back to the world.

“I said what do you wish to do with the one that still lives?" I don’t particulary wish to drag him along seeing how he reeks of gak and fear.” June said and kicked the man hard in the ribs.

She looked down at the man and almost visibly squirmed before her gore stained companion who pressed his sword against the bandit.

“I don’t know, I don’t have a habit of disposing of wounded bandits or whirling sword fights on muddy highways” she said in a hushed voice and began to walk away before she needed to see what would come next.

“As you say then” June replied and with a casual flick of his sword arm he raised the blade and looked down.
“Close your eyes, it makes it easier” he said and with a powerful swipe he brought the blade down, it hit the man just below the base of his skull and with a wet sound it separated head from torso in one clean cut. A jet of blood gushed into the air and the severed head rolled by his feet with eyes gaping in fear and disbelief.

He cleaned the blood of the blade with a rag torn from the now headless bandit. He looked at the body and was not surprised to see a symbol sown into the dirty kimono, so he was getting closer to his prey now it seemed.
Sending such rabble against was either a signal of despair or of a more devious plan. Both could be the case when that serpent was involved, best to avoid the most likely traps and strike like a hawk from up high when the chance presented itself.


Looking towards Ashana he saw her standing bent forwards and vomiting, clearly the young woman was not a big fan of bloodshed or combat it seemed.
But then again few people really enjoyed taking lives, except for those without any honour or those left without any other choice when it came to dealing with treason and devilry.
He walked over and extended a hand to her and pulled her up, she looked pale and reeked of vomit.
Deciding that silence about some things where the better part of valour he handed her a small flask and told her to drink it all.

She did so without thinking and immediately regretted it, the fiery heat of strong sake bunt her mouth and made her cheek blush with heat.
At that moment she lost all self control and slapped June with such force that he almost lost his footing.
“GET YOUR HANDS OF ME!” she screamed and seemed to tremble with fear and disgust, she felt so afraid that she could almost pass out. She knew he had saved her and only did the most practical thing but still. It made her young mind reel with revulsion and something else.

He saw the blow coming and did not a thing to avoid it, he knew he had shocked her and probably provided her with some of the worst sights she had ever seen in her life. Violence and death often affected those not accustomed to it in such ways was his costly and hard bought experience from years passed.
“ It is over now, I promise you will never have to see these kind of things again as long as you travel with me.” he said and took her trembling hands in his own bloodstained hands and brushed her hair back.
“ I understand how your mind must feel, and how you most likely think of me as some blood crazed beast. But know this, what they had in stall for you was far worse than what you saw today.”

To this she did not respond, she just clutched his hands and seemed lost in some inner struggle. He picked her up without any effort and began to walk towards the town that could be barely seen in the distance, when he walked past the place where the main party of bandits had meet their fate he shielded her eyes with one hand and hoped she did not see the carnage that was displayed on the road.

After several hours walking without any stops he passed the edge of town, he kept a straight course for the nearest inn. Some of the townsfolk stared at this unlikely duo, a bloodstained ronnin and a young woman held in his strong arms.
But none barred their path, for the eyes of the man radiated a promise of death to anyone who dared do such foolish things.

He put Ashana gently down outside the inn and entered the main hall. There he rented a room for two and ordered session in the baths for his companion.
She had few memories of the journey to town, not of being treated to a warm bath by the gentle hands of a geisha. All she remembered was the face of June as the former Samurai stood watch outside the bath and when he made sure she got to bed safely.
June sat in the common hall of the inn and sipped a cup of tea when he saw a man he recognized all to well. Feeling a notion similar to satisfaction he rose from his seat in the shadows and approached the man who sat beside a plump geisha and chatted vividly about his plans for her that night.

“Evening Tatsuo” he said and flashed a smile that was more fitting for a tiger than a man.
The man looked up and his face went pale with fear. There stood the demon that had hounded his lord for so long, right here in this town!
“Mind if you take a message to your scoundrel lord? Tell him his days are ending and that a rising sun will extinguish his troubled mind”

Overall pretty nicely written.

"I understand how your mind must feel" should be "I understand how you must feel."

Gore level's pitched about right. Story's moving along nicely. Looking forward to the next installment!

Another fine read by Trondheim, like it could be any less than good. Keep it going.

The man named Tatsuo was deep in his drink and was enjoying himself to a high degree with one of the new geisha’s until this wraith appeared. H felt his blood freeze and a cold sweat run down his neck. He had never been a brave man or a skilled swordsman, instead he had hid behind money and power gained by its own power as a lubricant of minds and hearths.
He had served his lord for almost thirty years now, and in all those long years he had witnessed many foul acts of murder and the ravages of war tear apart the land.
But yet he had never imagined his cowardly acts would eventually catch up to him and place him at sword point of someone who was in a another league of deadliness.

Swallowing hard and just barely managing to lift his eyes to meet the gaze of the ronnin he answered in a trembling voice filled with fear.
“Why yes, I would be more than glad to deliver whatever message you have for him ronnin.”
This clearly amused the man who he knew was named June,staring at the shimmering steel blade levelled at him he struggled to keep control of his bladder and what remained of his rapidly shrinking dignity.

The geisha bolted for safety as soon as the clearly insane ronnin sent her a look at indicated she should disappear fast unless she wanted to be caught up in this potentially bloody affair. Her sandals slapped against the floor and her kimono fluttered in the breeze outside as she ran to safety.
But even with a point of steel levelled at him his greedy mind did not stop turning. Hoping to gain a chance at escape he decided to try and bribe the fool who by threatening him had marked himself for death.
“You know ronnin, I imagine you would like to be able to regain a item that belonged to your now dead and gone clan? Lower the blade and I will tell you where to find it.” he said and tried to smile a friendly smile although his fat face made the gesture seem obscene.

“Do not try to worm yourself away Tatsuo. What you offer I know where to find, when I desire to reclaim it I will come for it! Now run back to your boss before I gut you like a pig! he snarled and kicked the man hard in the groin before delivering a hard slap to his face and after dragging him to the door hurling him out like a sack of rice.
The patrons who still had dared to remain in the inn looked on in a mix of terror and amusement as the ronnin gave the foul cur a brutal beating. One thing they all agreed on was that the town was likely to get very, very lively in the days to come.
Picking up a folder containing neatly created messages June smiled in satisfaction and returned to his room with a devious plan forming in his mind. Tatsuo would indeed have more trouble than he expected when his lord discovered his clumsy servant had dropped the accounting sheaths and the maps that showed where his storage houses was located in the lower quarters of the town.

Upon returning he closed the door and let out a sigh, by the heavens he felt tired. When his eyes adapted to the dim light he saw the sleeping form of Ashana, she looked so peaceful as she layed there clad in noting but a thin silk shirt that concealed her curves who rose and fell in tact with her breath.
He felt his blood begin to warm up, by the eternal lords of the sky. The girl was having an effect on him had not felt in years, he smiled as he sat down in the shadows and was contend to simply watch her sleep in peace, and it did not hurt that the thin silk band that held her shirt was slowly coming undone.
He grinned a wolfish grin and concluded that sometimes life smiled even at him.



At the same time his fingers ran alongside the scar that jutted out from beneath his kimono, it was a gruesome sight when he was undressed and gave him the look of a thing almost not human. He still felt the pain that the blow had caused him and the time spent crawling back to his old self. His missing ear also stemmed from that fateful day when he was given a brutal and almost deadly demonstration on how effective the heavy two handed sword from the north was when wielded by a master in its use.


She felt his gaze rest upon her almost naked form as he entered the room, she smiled to her self, let him look. Perhaps that was he needed, she felt sorry for the man but yet she felt a series of strange feelings tingle trough her thighs and her stomach when she saw him training. Oh how she longed for his strong hands to wrap around her and hold her while whispering soft words in her ears.
Minutes passed and she decided she no longer could lay there in anguish, she softly rose from her madras and walked softly over to him. She bent down and took his calloused hands in her soft and feminine hands. She felt him wanting to break free at first but then he returned the firm grip and pulled her down towards him, a soft whisper escaped her lips before words no longer was required.
“ Make me feel alive and hold me in your arms until the sun rises Samurai”

he woke to find her bending down towards him and taking his hands in hers. At that moment he felt peace and a sense of quiet in his normally troubled mind. Her hands squeezed his and a reflex almost made him break free but he resisted and returned the favour.
Her red lips whispered soft words into his ear before they no longer needed to speak to understand each other.

Dawn found June and Ashana walking side by side down the street that lead towards the waterfront where the map he had “liberated” from the coward last night indicated he would find what he had come down to this seedy part of town for.
In her eyes June seemed to have undergone a change of mood, smiling she thought to herself that perhaps last night was just what the Samurai as she insisted on calling him needed to come alive again.
He had purchased new cloths for them both and a length of very strong rope, that last purchase made no sense to her but she imagined he had a very good reason for it.

He looked at the map and saw the small storage house they where looking for lying some fifty meters from them, several guards could be seen walking up and down in front of it. But this seemed not to mater for June. He had a hidden asset that would make the guards seem like drunken oafs when they realized their mistake and the reclamation that had taken place from under their nose.
What was essential to this was that the storage house had very solid walls. And the few people who dwelled around here knew better than to investigate strange noises coming from it.

He handed Ashana a good amount of coin and told her to meet him back at the inn soon, this would not take long he assured her. She hesitated but reluctantly agreed to do so.
He walked up to the first guard and handed him one of the documents he had gotten his hands on, the man seemed somewhat suspicious but signalled to the others to let the stranger in. beside they agreed on, who would be daft enough to rob one of the storage houses belonging to their lord.

Another very good chapter , I await the final showdown with an-tis-ipation.

Very nice man!

June closed the heavy wooded door behind him and let out a deep breath of relief, he had not expected this to work and had expected having to kill or dispose of all the guards one way or the other.
Never let a chance to confuse your opponent slip by was one of his life mottoes and as he walked down the dimly lit hall he knew he was getting closer to what he had been searching for a long time. Soon it would be set free from this dusty and cramped prison and set to serve the one who it had been intended to serve all along. But he knew the time for celebration was not yet, life often had a nasty habit of throwing surprises his way.
As he came to the end of the hall he saw his price, standing tall on its display racket it seemed to not aged a single day since he last saw it.
The black and crimson red scales glittered and the helmet with the fearsome facial mask still displayed that hideous grin he remembered so well.

But what made a single tear trickle down his cheek was the sword who sat in its ornate scabbard. Walking over with almost uneasy steps he picked it up and felt its weight in his hands.
As if talking to a long lost family member he spoke softly to it.
“Rest now father, soon you and our clan will be granted their revenge, for too long has your blade rested. With your permission sent down from the heavens I will wield it as you once did, I pray that my death will find me drenched in the blood of our foes and our feud settled before I see you all again.”


kneeling down he bowed his head in a show of respect and sorrow, this would be his long overdue show of solemn respect and longing for his family. Pulling out a pair of small lanterns from deep pockets he light them and shed tears as he whispered silent words to the spirits that rested in the high heavens.
As he once again stood tall he felt the gaze of his forefathers rest on him, with trembling hands he began to dress himself in the suit of armour one piece at a time, he hoped no one would discover him because it would take a long time to do it by himself but time mattered not now. Only death and bloodshed remained for him to full fill.


Meanwhile Ashana was feeling very, very nervous. As she had left the waterfront district she was sure she was followed by several men who looked rather unfriendly. She tried to remember what June had told her should something like this happen, he had told her to head for the inn named Tsunami that lay near the edge of town. There she would be safe no mater what happened to him, with her pulse pounding in her veins she somehow managed to walk somewhat normal.

The men drew however ever closer and soon she could hear their shuffling steps behind her. Just as she rounded a corner strong hands gripped her from behind and pulled her into a damp alleyway.
She cried out but a rag was showed into her mouth and her plea for help was cut of.
A hard slap to the face sent her reeling and it felt like her chin was on fire.

“Well then, what do we have here? A feisty little ronnin lover eh! You are in a world of hurt now girly.” said a fat and short man who seemed to either have fallen down a flight of stairs or been on the receiving end of a brutal beating.



Ordering his servants to tie the girl up Tatsuo smiled. Who said you needed a sword to get revenge for being made look a fool in public, yes the vixen would be a great pleasure to break in he mused as he was about to head back home.
And his lord would perhaps spare him another flogging like the one he had gotten for letting himself be robbed in such a simple manner. He was very sure of had he not been so good with the fine art of bribery and political game he would have been hacked apart or boiled alive for his shortcomings that night.

Yes she would do as a minor offering of respect and gratefulness towards his lord. However the cards of fate would see this grim and callous plan crumble when the coward left his minions to handle the girl.
As the men prepared to cart her away to a grim fate the shadows seemed to come alive, silently living forms seemingly clad in dark cloths drew cold steel and garrotte wires was tensed before the hunters struck at their unknowing prey.
When the first blow came the men knew not what hit them nor did they have time to strike back. They all died gurgling blood or choking on the last few breaths of air they would ever draw.
The bound girl was carried to safety by gentle hands even as she starred at them in horror and the bloody mess they left behind in that dark and damp alley.

A black and crimson red warrior slid his face mask on and gripped the spear he had taken from the weapon rack standing near the door that would lead out into the waiting world. So this is how it feels to wear the armour of my ancestors after all these years he mused.
It was strange to feel something akin to the faint feeling resembling pre battle nerves after all these years spent living by the sword and dreaming of this day.
But he cleared his mind and with a firm grip he let the doors open and stepped out into the waiting day.

The first to die was a young man who had just been given the task of standing guard, he heard the doors slam open and fumbled for his blade and was about to call to his fellow guards when a cold steel spear point ripped through his young body and and doused the ground with his lifeblood.
The young man gurgled in pain and shock as a terrifying figure loomed over him with a bloody spear in hand. Then darkness claimed him and leaving a young wife and a small boy without a husband and a father.

June strode forth like a grim reaper, the guards came rushing at him but was ill prepared and in a somewhat shocked state. This was something few of them was willing to fight, a Samurai who seemed to dance rings around them and leave their comrades in bloody ruin when the spear struck or a armoured fist broke bone with hammer like blows.
Deciding that dying for a lousy pay and meagre rewards for bravery the survivors dropped their swords and ran like scared children.
Their foe did not celebrate this, because he knew this was only street rabble and not real warriors who did not fear fighting someone who wore a suit of armour.
Yes the day was far from over and with a roar the thunder that had loomed on the horizon signalled a return of the rain.

Oh yeah here comes the rain, que kick ass fight scene. nice chapter, I'l look forward to the next one.

Can't decide if June reminds me more of Clint Eastwood or Toshiro Mifune. This looks like it's going to be epic.

Perhaps he is the long lost child of those two?

“Die you bastard!” howled the sell sword and jabbed at the Samurai that had just disembowelled his brother before ramming his spear into the chest of another man. He hacked at swung like a mad man at the foul fiend who sidestepped and dodged his blade with what seemed like skills honed over many long years.
Just as he was about to strike at a opening in his opponent guard he noticed something, his sword arm no longer seemed to respond. Looking at it he saw only a bleeding stump before a swipe of a katana with a shimmering blue edge took his head clean of.
His killer stepped over his dead body and looked around to see if any more vermin lurked about ready to pounce on him.

Seeing none he allowed himself to draw a deep breath and to clean his sword once again, removing the blood and other less pleasant remains on it. The spirit of the weapon needed to be payeed such respect even in the midst of combat he told himself.
On the muddy street lay ten dead men and one who still lived. The young boy was petrified with fear and shock, he had raised his weapon nor tried to rise when the first men died and the crimson red demon hacked them apart or impaled them on his long spear.
Now his terrified eyes saw the very same creature walk over to him and stop at an arms length from him.
“On your feet boy!” a cold voice from beyond the grave told him. He first resisted but found himself getting up even as his legs treated to give out and send him sprawling in the blood drenched mud.


June looked at the obviously terrified boy who rose when told to do so. His mind had entered that state it always did when he took the life’s of others, a cold void filled with noting else than the skills he had and the focus on the task at hand.
Asking the boy to where his cowardly master hid he was not surprised when the boy said he normally could be found in his mansion in the centre of town behind ornate doors and well guarded.
Having got confirmation on what he already knew he cast one last look at the boy before raising his sword and in one fell cut ending the life of yet another soul.
Let them fear my coming and let the red sky signal their deaths he though as he continued his march that until this point had left a trail of broken bodies and widows behind him.

The mansion was in a state of chaos, all around guards and retainers raced to secure the compound before the mad dog could gain entry, their lord was in a terrible mood and had promised death to all if they failed in their duties on this day.
The man in question who was the price the former Samurai June hunted sat in his chambers and brooded, many empty bottles of sake lay all around and he was beginning to become very drunk.
As he sat there it dawned on him how miserable it felt to be on the receiving end of terror. But his mind influenced by decades of time spent doing just that to others brushed those pitiful thoughts aside.
“GET ME MY ARMOUR AND SWORD!” he screamed and hurled a bottle at the wall while attempting to get on his feet.

By the Shogun t would take more than a simple stubborn ronnin to bring about his demise he swore and propelled by unsteady feet and alcohol he stood swaying and waited to be dressed.

At the same time a lone Samurai left the compound, he had been given the task of stopping the dog before he could reach the gates of the mansion or die trying.
The man had hair that was fast becoming grey with age and he wore a suit of jade green armour. He was a seasoned fighter and had many, many years behind him but this task left a sour taste in his mouth he mused as he walked calmly towards his destiny.
The rain pounded the cobblestones on the main town square, June entered the square and cast his gaze upon the waiting mob. Some fifty sell swords and retainers blocked his way. This would be a hard fight indeed.
But he felt no fear as he stood there and awaited their first move. It came when what seemed to be their leader drew his sword and yelled a command to his minions.
Most of them was armed with long spears and the rest was armed with blades, gripping his own spear he gazed at them as they came rushing towards him.

Raising his spear and pulling his arm back he hurled the long slender spear in a fluid motion, the projectile raced onwards to its target, with a wet thud it nailed one of the men in the front square in the chest. Drawing the sword that had belonged to his father he calmly greeted the first man to come within sword reach with a brutal slash to the face.
The man screamed in pain as the blade ruined his face and took his left eye, stumbling backwards he collided with another man and both fell down hard.
Then all became a swirling mayhem, spear tips flashed and swords glimmered.
June barely avoided a spear jab and sidestepped a sword that was aimed at his neck. He felt his blood pound in his veins and his body was tense as a bowstring, this was not a fight he enjoyed. Having sent several of the men to the afterlife he was still heavily outnumbered but he kept on killing them. But he too had been marked by the fight, bleeding from a cut to his left cheek and feeling the pain in his left hand after he blocked a powerful blow from a spear.

As the lone ronnin fought for his life the Samurai clad in jade green armour was standing still on a bridge near the central town square. He no longer felt any need to serve a man who had never shown the honour a lord should have. Hiding behind others and spending the days drinking and counting money was not the way for a Samurai to live he thought.
As he was about to leave the bridge and go meet his fate he saw a sight that made his ageing mind boil with anger.

A lone woman sat and held by the still form of her husband as several sell swords was busy looting the cart the couple must have been hauling. From the look of things they where not local and hence must not have known about the decree that all who was not under arms should keep to their homes until the following day.
It dawned on the old warrior what sort of a man his lord truly was, and that he could no longer claim to be a honourable man by serving him.

He unsheathed his katana and approached the sell swords. One of them looked up and his face went pale, he managed to scream a warning to his companions before a brutal strike cut deep into his body and a geyser of blood gushed out into the air, as he dropped down screaming in pain as a powerful kick shattered his teeth and broke his jaw.

The men fanned out in a half circle and looked at their attacker, decided it would not be worth dying two of them ran while the other three came on blades leading the way.

It all ended very fast. None of them could match the sheer amount of skill and experience of the old warrior, they died there on the cobblestones with cold steel kissing their bodies and fear in their hearths.
The ronnin who stood up against tyranny and injustice would not stand alone, no honourable Samurai stood by their fellow warriors until the end