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"Perhaps you're right. After all, we have no reason not to try getting along with others," stated Kenji. He thought about it for a moment, doubling back to the crimson-eyed stranger's earlier words before chuckling. [/color=96bce7]"Of course, using such a derogatory term for these foreigners won't win us many friends."[/color]

Shrugging, the merc turned back to the procession. Seemed like they were beginning to wrap things up. He continued talking, and though he wasn't facing the stranger, it was clear who he was speaking to. "My father was slain while I was out wandering the land. I never got to attend his burial... I'm sure it's a common story, but seeing others have the privilege of seeing their loved ones off can make me a little envious sometimes." He leaned against the tree to his right, continuing. "I say 'loved one', but in truth, I respected my father more than I loved him. He was a strict disciplinarian. Caring, sure, but far less so than my mother.


Another chuckle followed before Kenji glanced over at his gradual acquaintance. "Have you had someone close pass on? If that is too personal for a stranger, you don't have to answer."

Welcome to the site. I currently only play Miyamoto Kenji, though I may create another character eventually. Hope you have a good time here along with the rest of us. :3

I've got net going on my computer upstairs, so I'm officially back in action.

Fusing:

Iron Katana: This blade seems well made. It cuts clean. +3 Str
with
Iron Katana: This blade seems well made. It cuts clean. +3 Str

To Create:

Masterwork Iron Katana: Reforged and refined by a master smith, this is a truly splendid sword in craft, appearance, and cutting power. +6 Str

¥3,724 - 800 = ¥2,924 yen remaining

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Item Name: Yawarakai-Te
Materials: Iron, Steel, Cloth, Mystic Pendant
Stats: +4 Str when attacking, +1 Spr
Description: Its name translating into "Tender Hands," this splendid steel katana, with its refined iron handguard and hilt wrapped in silken cloth cord, was created by a descendant of Masamune, inspired by a legend of his ancestor and Muramasa. Muramasa forged a sword that cut everything in its path, even the very wind, being heralded as an evil weapon. In response, Masamune crafted a sword that did not cut that which was innocent or undeserving, only harming those whom deserved to be. This blade, curiously lightweight and durable, is intended as the latter.
Power: Drawing on the good virtues and willpower of the wielder, this holy sword deals additional light damage with each strike dependent on the wielder's Spirit stat.

¥2,924 - 2,200 = ¥ 724 yen remaining

Math:
1,000 = +5 Stats
+1,000 = Power
+40 = Iron
+40 = Cloth
+60 = Steel
+60 = Mystic Pendant

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Buying:

Wanderer's Hakama: A comfortable pair of hakama trousers, but they seem a little long. +1 Con 80 Yen
Wanderer's Robe: This robe seems slightly long, but at least it looks good. +1 Con 80 Yen
Wanderer's Sandals: Straw sandals that actually fit your feet, surprisingly. +1 Dex 80 Yen
Wanderer's Hat: This straw hat makes you look mysterious. +1 Str 80 Yen
Wanderer's Gloves: These help your grip! +1 Str 80 Yen

¥724 - 400 = ¥324 yen remaining

"I'm on contract with the Mogami," Kenji explained. He stopped for a few moments as a barmaid came by with a jug of sake and two cups, one for each warrior. The merc smiled and thanked her, then gestured for Takehiro to pour for himself first, as he was the gracious host in this scenario. With that, he continued on, "I am to meld with the Oda ranks and fight the oncoming Imagawa. I'm sure it's some extension of goodwill on the part of Mogami Yoshimori... What a gift it is, too, sending one man." He offered a wry grin to compliment his sarcasm, pouring his own drink after Takehiro, or pouring first if his new acquaintance declined the earlier gesture.

Kenji's smile shifted to a more polite, friendly one as he settled back in his seat with the drink in hand. "Forgive me, I've yet to introduce myself whereas you already had. My name is Miyamoto Kenji."

In the dead of night, a certain shugyosha in dark, lightweight clothing lurked in the shadows, hunched down behind a great stone not too far ahead of a encampment. The banners bore the Akita mon and colors, flying silently in the darkness. He peered around it once again, having counted off an hour of time. Sure enough, he could see the guards starting to turn inward, about to head in. This left a question to answer.

Why was Kenji out in the middle of the night, watching a military camp?

Simple. A couple days after his last job retrieving an old medallion, Rusu Yukikaze, governor of Kenji's town, posed another task to him. The Akita had been sighted past the northern borders of Mogami territory, apparently arraying camp for some purpose or another. Readying an invasion, most likely, or perhaps conducting their own training exercises. Hard to tell without being inside. Regardless, a few days after they were spotted, a courier bearing the Satake mon came up through the northernmost Mogami village, heading for the camp, or so said the villagers. When the information reached the daimyo, Yukikaze was contacted and ordered to investigate. The governor thus decided that the best course of action would be to penetrate the camp and look for whatever the courier had been carrying. Thus, he arranged for Kenji to be the man to sneak in, and if the courier had indeed been carrying documents from the Satake to the Akita, he was to replace them with a prepared set of forged documents as a measure to prevent the two from having any kind of good relations. Such would bode poorly for the Mogami, after all, if either clan decided to expand in Dewa.

That, in summary, was why Kenji took the role of ninja instead of swordsman for tonight, much like he had for the stealth test arranged by the Mogami lord.

Moving along, Kenji had been staking out the camp for three hours, manuevering between hiding spots and observing as many angles as possible, all in order to discern the number of guards in the camp, their patrol routines, and most importantly, when they switched shifts. He had learned that there were around twenty men within, and that the patrols changed every hour, on the hour. If there were but twenty soldiers, this camp was more likely a scouting camp more than a base for a coming invasion. Either way, the Satake courier was slated to be within, and Kenji had the duty of acquiring whatever he held.

So as the patrols began to change, the two men close to Kenji's hidey-hole making to enter camp, the mercenary deigned to slip out from his rock and tail them inside from a distance. When the patrols switched, it was an excellent time for one to make their entrance, for no one was truly watching for intruders. Not in a twenty-man encampment, at least. He made it in, and immediately dove into a tent. His risk paid off, as no one was inside this one. Quietly, he stooped down and listened for the watch to finish changing over and for activity within the camp to normalize. This came to pass in a mere few minutes.

Kenji slinked out of the tent, crouched low, and moved around, using other tents and deep patches of darkness - those areas away from the lit paper lanterns that were set up every so often - as cover to advance. A close call came when he stepped on a twig and snapped it, prompting him not to freeze, but to instead dive behind another tent. He observed from this spot as an Akita soldier meandered over and glanced down at the broken wood, visibly pondering for a moment, then scanning the area. By the time he looked up, Kenji took the chance to move from his perch and continue along, before the soldier could end up checking his cover spot.

In due time, the shugyosha spotted the courier wearing Satake garb and froze in the night, watching, waiting. The man walked into another nondescript tent, then departed a minute later and took his leave. Checking on his parcel, most likely. Now in the clear, Kenji looked both ways for any coming patrolmen, then seeing none were on the way, darted across the small clearing and slowed down to slip into the tent. Upon entry, he spotted the Satake mon sealing a scroll that layed on a small table, next to a knife, writing brush, and a letter that was probably something personal for the courier. Kenji left this item alone and zeroed in on the scroll, picking it up and slipping it away into his robe, pulling out an almost-identical missive and placing it in the same spot, taking a couple extra moments to make sure it was in the exact position as its real counterpart.

With his mission all but complete, Kenji made a quiet exit from the tent and advanced to another empty one, taking refuge inside and waiting patiently for the patrol to shift at the end of the hour. When it started, he stole out and breezed through the empty southern entrance, jogging in the night to make his escape. All that remained was returning to Yukikaze back in town, then get a good night's sleep.

Doing stealthy things was exceptionally, thrilling, he noted. No wonder ninjas existed.

"Huh?" Kenji was caught by surprise. First the man goes wild on the nefarious performers, then offers him a drink and food? A curious fellow indeed. It was worth seeing where this rabbit hole went, so he decided to dive in, offering a brief smile and nod. "Certainly, if you're offering. I could use a round after this scrap."

Kenji half-glanced toward the stranger as he heard him speak. He didn't need to ponder the question for long, turning toward him to answer. "I've got a good idea of Christianity. I made a couple friends in the past who were from their land. Good folk, interesting people."

He paused to turn and point toward the procession before continuing, "If you're asking about that, it's their version of a funeral. There are some curious parallels between their way of sending off their dead, and our way of sending ours. It makes you realize that we're all the same. Different blood, different countries of origin, different beliefs, but we still treat the deceased with the same level of respect."

Kenji reflexively bashed the man in the forehead with the back of his fist as he barrelled over, sending his body twirling off to one side. It seemed like this crowd was truly getting insane, but there didn't seem to be any blood yet, so that was good. Just an old-fashioned brawl between guys.

And then he felt someone bump him and reach into his haori.

The mercenary was no great fan of theft, whether of his own belongings or of another's. He knew this wasn't some drunkard who happened to have his hand slip inside; he was about to be pickpocketed. Kenji turned with the man, his coinpurse very timely being pulled away from the pickpocket's hand with his motion, and proceeded to hammer the man's temple with a heavy strike. As he began to follow with another attack, he recognized the man's face as being one of the performers, which prompted Kenji to put two and two together: the bastards had used this as one big diversion to make off with peoples' money!

He would not stand for this. Not for petty theft.

Kenji snatched the man's robe and yanked him into a straight punch that rammed into his nose, quite possibly breaking it. The performer yelped in obvious pain and went limp in his grip before the merc threw him roughly to the ground, then cupped a hand to his mouth while slipping the other into his robe to guard his coinpurse, yelling for any coherent brawlers to hear, "The stage performers are picking your pockets!"

The shugyosha lowered his swords as he heard the words of who may very well be the woman he sought, breathing out the fires of battle and the rage that was boiling in his veins. It was a violent fight, but he truly wanted to punish these kidnappers, who by this point he viewed as vile excuses for men. After a couple moments, he sheathed his stained blades - they would need such a cleaning later - and turned to the woman of Keiko's likeness, dropping onto his knees before her to make himself look smaller, and offering a friendly, genuine smile. "My name is Miyamoto Kenji. I've come to find Toda Keiko-san, and the rest of the ladies whom were taken. Kaede-san can vouch for my intent."

At this point in the venture, Kenji had no desire to waste time mincing words with these twisted bastards who called themselves human. He bounced back quickly from the less than stellar sternum kick, stepping back in and swinging both katanas one after the other; with the first, he hoped to bash aside his initial adversary's weapon, and with the second, he meant to cut through his jaw. Assuming he were successful, Kenji advanced further into the room and decided to divide and conquer: the nearest two men would each receive a swift horizon slash intended to cleave their ribs before, success or no, the mercenary pulled both swords back into a defensive stance, gauging the situation.

The instant that Kaede looked to Kenji following the frightful scream, he took up his swords again. "Hide behind the wall next to the door, defend these girls. If someone comes through that isn't me or a townswoman, that hook goes through their skull." Without waiting for the confirmation, or any form of response, he turned on his heel and ran back into the brothel-sized room and looked briefly to both closed doors. The shugyosha had very little time and couldn't afford to hesitate in his path. Committing to the feeling rising in his gut, he darted toward the door on his left (to the womens' door's right) and attempted to charge through it, ready to kill anyone inside.