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DudeMeister
Star
- Joined
- Apr 29, 2013
The distant howling of wolves only interrupted Kojiro's drinking for a moment before he added more wood to the fire, the sticks cracking as the warm orange flames claimed them. Settled in a clearing of the forest, the wanderer uncorked the large ceramic jar of sake and drank a mouthful, cackling uncontrollably at a thought that only a drunk like him could find humorous. The commotion he stirred mingled in with the natural sounds of the woods, the occasional hoot of an owl before it unfolded it's wings, the chirping of the local insects, the faint creaking of tree branches at the gentle spring breeze. These sounds were an afterthought to the vagabond as he felt his head spinning from the copious amounts of booze he consumed. His torso was clad in a travel worn kimono of dark blue, his trousers equally unkept. He wore the split toed socks known as tabi beneath a pair of straw sandals. Leaning against the trunk of a tree was a katana of modest construction, yet he seemed for to inebriated to use it should the need arise.
The warm glow illuminated his face, showing his black hair to be worn in a ponytail behind his head. His skin was somewhat pale and a visible scar spanned diagonally across his face. Further testament to his violent past was the tattooing on his chest, visible through the slightly opened lapel of the kimono he wore. The likeness of a coiled dragon spanned down both of his arms which seemed to come alive at the play of defined muscle visible along his chest and forearms. A product of his past service to a gambling syndicate, they were a testament to his dangerous abilities while sober. Even then, he was nowhere near as dangerous as he was in his past life...
It was a few hours into his drunken slumber when his former comrades emerged from their cover. Kojiro had left the service of their boss Saito about four months ago, but not before taking a purse containing 5 ryo. The sum was many months salary for any thug working under him and having such a sum stolen from him was unacceptable. There were four men looking to claim the reward for delivering Saito his head, one of them drawing a murderous dagger from his kimono while they approached the sleeping man. The hitch in the plan came when the dagger wielder realized that his arm had been shortened at the wrist, the sickening realization coming with blinding pain and the swift blur of a blade.
"You know, I figured Saito would send better men after me...it's kinda disrespectful" Kojiro said boisterously, his movements unpredictable and shaking from all the drinking.
Enraged at their comrade being cut down moments ago, the others drew their swords and came at the lone vagrant. A vertical slash from Kojiro missed it's main target, passing the top of the head but managing to cut deeply into the man's sword arm. Gritting in pain as his arm was consumed by crimson, the man faltered back as the other two advanced cautiously. Knowing better than to charge in haphazardly, he retreated quietly into the woods. Using the darkness to his advantage, his blurry vision adjusted to the absence of light as his quarry stumbled through the trees. Kojiro was no samurai after all...he considered running off moments ago, but the fact that there was still some sake left in the jar at his campsite deterred him from being a coward. Hearing one of his assailant's stumble against a tree, he quickly closed the distance. The gambler didn't see Kojiro until the blade entered his throat and his heart pumped the last moments of his life before he fell to the ground. The chaos that ensued drove another bandit to strike diagonally at Kojiro's collar. The blade managed to cut into the fabric of his kimono and leave a shallow wound across his torso. Kojiro mused at how years ago the man wouldn't even have touched him. Nevertheless he gritted his teeth through the pain and slashed horizontally across his lower abdomen.
Making his way back to the camp, the last man backed away in fear. Bloodied up from dealing with the other three, Kojiro charged in. His slash took the man in the back as he was trying to run away. As he laid there dying, Kojiro wiped his blade on the man's back.
"If you're expecting me to give you a clean death, don't. You just lie there and think about what you've done with the time you have left" Kojiro said as he sheathed his sword.
--------
The woods were enveloped by an eerie fog, a deathly silence broken by the drunkard's footsteps. Laughing boisterously as he drunkenly sang a melody he recalled from his childhood, he took a long drink from the jar before throwing it aside without much care. Rumors spoke that yokai and other such demons resided in these woods, but Kojiro felt little need to give it much thought.
The warm glow illuminated his face, showing his black hair to be worn in a ponytail behind his head. His skin was somewhat pale and a visible scar spanned diagonally across his face. Further testament to his violent past was the tattooing on his chest, visible through the slightly opened lapel of the kimono he wore. The likeness of a coiled dragon spanned down both of his arms which seemed to come alive at the play of defined muscle visible along his chest and forearms. A product of his past service to a gambling syndicate, they were a testament to his dangerous abilities while sober. Even then, he was nowhere near as dangerous as he was in his past life...
It was a few hours into his drunken slumber when his former comrades emerged from their cover. Kojiro had left the service of their boss Saito about four months ago, but not before taking a purse containing 5 ryo. The sum was many months salary for any thug working under him and having such a sum stolen from him was unacceptable. There were four men looking to claim the reward for delivering Saito his head, one of them drawing a murderous dagger from his kimono while they approached the sleeping man. The hitch in the plan came when the dagger wielder realized that his arm had been shortened at the wrist, the sickening realization coming with blinding pain and the swift blur of a blade.
"You know, I figured Saito would send better men after me...it's kinda disrespectful" Kojiro said boisterously, his movements unpredictable and shaking from all the drinking.
Enraged at their comrade being cut down moments ago, the others drew their swords and came at the lone vagrant. A vertical slash from Kojiro missed it's main target, passing the top of the head but managing to cut deeply into the man's sword arm. Gritting in pain as his arm was consumed by crimson, the man faltered back as the other two advanced cautiously. Knowing better than to charge in haphazardly, he retreated quietly into the woods. Using the darkness to his advantage, his blurry vision adjusted to the absence of light as his quarry stumbled through the trees. Kojiro was no samurai after all...he considered running off moments ago, but the fact that there was still some sake left in the jar at his campsite deterred him from being a coward. Hearing one of his assailant's stumble against a tree, he quickly closed the distance. The gambler didn't see Kojiro until the blade entered his throat and his heart pumped the last moments of his life before he fell to the ground. The chaos that ensued drove another bandit to strike diagonally at Kojiro's collar. The blade managed to cut into the fabric of his kimono and leave a shallow wound across his torso. Kojiro mused at how years ago the man wouldn't even have touched him. Nevertheless he gritted his teeth through the pain and slashed horizontally across his lower abdomen.
Making his way back to the camp, the last man backed away in fear. Bloodied up from dealing with the other three, Kojiro charged in. His slash took the man in the back as he was trying to run away. As he laid there dying, Kojiro wiped his blade on the man's back.
"If you're expecting me to give you a clean death, don't. You just lie there and think about what you've done with the time you have left" Kojiro said as he sheathed his sword.
--------
The woods were enveloped by an eerie fog, a deathly silence broken by the drunkard's footsteps. Laughing boisterously as he drunkenly sang a melody he recalled from his childhood, he took a long drink from the jar before throwing it aside without much care. Rumors spoke that yokai and other such demons resided in these woods, but Kojiro felt little need to give it much thought.
