Stories told by both word of mouth and books passed down in history tell of a sword, a legendary weapon said to have slain even the most formidable of beasts and even the strongest of warriors. That was all until the blades last owner hid it away before he drew his last breath.
The sword was said to have been lost for decades, until rumors of its location started to surface. Many warriors went to the top of one of the six ancient mountains that made up the Cresent Ridge, and none ever returned.
A woman in elegant robes sat atop a pile of bleach white bones, raven hair cascading down her shoulders and down her back. Her skin was pale and dotted with scales, sharp claws and pointed horns to top it off. Her red eyes, which had cat-like pupils, were closed, resting her chin on the butt of her hand, a sword dull blade covered in rust propped up against her side.
Sanada Genjiro Yukimura was next in line as the leader of the Takeda clan, and even though he was a capible young man of age seventeen, he was still a long way from being ready to lead. He was still naive, and had much more to experience, regardless of his prowess as a warrior.
The sword was said to have been lost for decades, until rumors of its location started to surface. Many warriors went to the top of one of the six ancient mountains that made up the Cresent Ridge, and none ever returned.
A woman in elegant robes sat atop a pile of bleach white bones, raven hair cascading down her shoulders and down her back. Her skin was pale and dotted with scales, sharp claws and pointed horns to top it off. Her red eyes, which had cat-like pupils, were closed, resting her chin on the butt of her hand, a sword dull blade covered in rust propped up against her side.
Sanada Genjiro Yukimura was next in line as the leader of the Takeda clan, and even though he was a capible young man of age seventeen, he was still a long way from being ready to lead. He was still naive, and had much more to experience, regardless of his prowess as a warrior.