Writing Code of Blood: A Samurai Tale [M]

[Doublehex]

[center][IMG]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v143/Doublehex/cob_one.jpg[/IMG][/center]

[color=white]In the forgotten realm of Makara, Master Takae Hasamaru drank his sake as he bathed in the moonlight. He was a wandering swordsman, serving no lord or shogun in any country. He did not believe in handing his blade over to any man who gave his own defined form of justice. He was a master of the Jin-Matae Shruu style. It made its wielder a demon of battle, a nay unstoppable force of strength and will, a combination of lightning speed, brute strength, coordination and a stout mind. And so, it was decided long ago that those who followed the style must not use their blade for greed, but for the good of the people. He sipped some of his sake, his pointing finger and thumb acting as the lone support for the ochoko. He did not rush the drink down his throat, as would the common drunk. Rather, he took it in slow, allowing his lips to enjoy the fine drink. Hasamaru rose up, sipping the last of his sake. He slipped the ochoko into his kimono, and walked off. His senses told him that there was a great disturbance on the road tonight. Hasamaru found the result of his tardiness: a trail of bloody corpses. It was very evident to the keen swordsman that this was the work of bandits. It did not have the cunning cuts of the ninja, nor were there the decapitating capabilities of the samurai. Additionally, there was no evidence of the noble minded slices from militia men. Bandits were the last, and most obvious, conclusion. With a sigh, he brushed an autumn leaf off of his shoulder. ?They are afflicted, the times and lives of man.? He sped off into the distance, determined to find the few survivors of the raid who were being pursued by the raiders. This is what those of the Jin-Matae Shruu style lived for; to save lives. Even if they were all taken by the time he arrived, he would avenge their deaths. He found the captives pinned against a wall of oak trees. There was not enough room for the few survivors to squirm through. They were the rats trapped by the cat. Without making a sound, he sprinted into the group of enemies. The untrained bandits didn?t last any longer than a few moments as the Jin-Matate Shruu ripped them to pieces, leaving only shards of flesh as their memorial. The lone bandit in front of him, the only one left unscathed if only because he was out of reach, asked him who he was. Hasamaru told him that there was little point in introducing himself to the dead. The foolish bandit charged at the master swordsman. He was consquentley ripped to pieces in a few swift and elegant strokes. Not even his mother would of have had been able to recognize his corpse. He approached the lone survivor of the raid: an argent haired boy. [center]* * * * *[/center] The young boy?s name was Shinji. Since he was the son of a farmer, he did not have the honor of a last name, but he had a good life for a good many years. They would toil in the rice fields for the Shogun lord Kasae Sakagura in the day, and then he would enjoy food and his father and mother?s company in the night. It was by no means an extravagant life style, but it was one he enjoyed none the less. It was simple, pleasant, and it was good. That life ended when his whole family fell to a disease called leprosy. Shinji did not know of the disease until then, and it would be a lie if he did not say that he was enraged that something he had never harmed would be so cruel as to harm him. Thus was the naive and pure nature of a child. Sakagura sold him to slave traders soon after. After all, he could not take the boy in as his own ? children were very expensive to look after, and that?s not to include the dishonor he would have bestowed on his person for taking in a peasant?s child! And the Gods know that it would be far too time consuming to find a new family for the child. It was for the best, the Shogun had concluded. Once he was sold to the slave traders, a teenage girl names Shizuka took him in. They were both slaves, and they could very easily be separated at any moment. But her embrace felt like that of his mother?s, and he was satisfied. On that night, they were traveling to a new camp, since this one was going to be abandoned. It was too weakly structured and small for the current slaves. Too many were dieing from suffocation! And that would not do at all, the slave masters concluded. So, they bought a new slave home, and hired some guards to take the slaves to the new place. When the bandits attacked, the few guards were overwhelmed. Almost instantly, the slave troupe was being slaughtered left and right. Taking his hand, Shizuka took him away from the main road, to the forest, in hope that they could somehow survive the massacre. Perhaps if they survived, they could find a new life somewhere? Maybe they could wander to one of the nearby cities! Surely, a woman of Shizuka?s ingenuity would have been able to find some work easily enough. Alas, fate had chosen to be cruel that night. The bandits killed Shizuka. As those were slaughtered around her, Shinji raised a wayward sword. He wanted to protect Shizuka! She was like a mother to him. She deserved to live! Before he charged towards the approaching bandits, and eventually to his deaths, Shizuka pulled him away shielding his eyes from the bloodshed. ?Don?t look Shinji!?, she had warned him. He heard someone?s last cries as a dagger went through her throat, and Shizuka, in response, fell to the ground. He could not see this massacre! He couldn?t. ?Shinji! Shinji, listen to me. You are just a child. You have not been able to choose your life.? The boy could feel tear drops on his face. ?You must find a way to survive?to find a meaning in this world, unlike those who have died here tonight.? Suddenly, the weight of Shizuka?s body was relived of him. He watched, in horror, as the girl who only wanted to protect him was killed ruthlessly. Her last words were: ?Live.? The murdering bandit approached Shinji, raising his katana, ready to slice the innocent child in two. That was when the wandering swordsman saved his life. [center]* * * * *[/center] Hasamaru wiped the blood off of his blade. Unless you were caught in a large conflict, it was a disgrace to those whose lives you had just taken to allow their blood to stain your sword. ?I suppose it was fate that led me in this direction tonight.? The boy was unmoved. ?I have avenged their deaths. None of the bandits still breath on this night.? He raised his index finger. ?I have a word of advice for you ? do not be vengeful towards these men. It will not bring back your loved ones.? With a sigh, Hasamaru turned away, heading towards the road. ?It no longer surprises me, the smell of blood. It is as common as White Plums. What a horrible time the Heavens chose to bring me into the world. It is enough that I bury them, I suppose.? The next day, Hasamaru found himself on the semi-paved path to a shrine of Nervana. He planned to pray for the spirits of the lives the bandits had stolen the previous night. As he walked, he thought of how that even though his blade was guided by the teachings of the Jin-Matae Shruu, he could not sometimes even save a single life. On the small plain that preceded the abandoned shrine, he found something he was not expecting: a gathering of graves. In the center of them all was the silver haired boy from the night before. He approached the child. ?You made graves for both the bandits and your loved ones?? He came to this conduction because there were far too many graves for it to just be for the trope the child was traveling with. ?They weren?t my family. I was a slave, like them. In the end, there were just bodies..? Hasamaru nodded in agreement. He then saw that there was a recently placed stone in front of the child. ?What is this?? ?Shizuka-san. We knew each other for only a short time, and yet, she died to protect me. I wanted the best grave of all for her, but the best I could find for her was this grave. I don?t even have flowers for her.? Hasamaru smiled as he pulled out his tokkuri and spilled some of his sake on the woman?s grave stone. ?It is a shame for Shizuka-san to have entered Nirvana without tasting sake. This is my tribute to her.? ?Thank you?, the boy said weakly ?Child, your fingers are stained with the effort of this ordeal. Your spirit will never forget the effort of carrying their bodies on your shoulders. But now, a greater ordeal is ahead of you. You must carry their lives for as long as you live, for they died to protect you. You must be of strong heart, mind and will to move on in your life. Your arms must be strong so that you can live on, and protect others, so that their deaths would have meaning.? ?Protect??? ?What is your name boy?? ?Shinji.? ?Shinji? That is far too delicate a name for a swordsman! From now on, your name is Murasama. Toshiro Murasama.? ?Toshiro?Murasama?? ?My boy, I am going to teach you my forte, so that you may protect others in this world, and so that your Shizuka-san?s death will have meaning!? And so, that was the birth of Toshiro Murasama.[/color]

[Aurons Ghost]

Very nice work. Towards the end I find this tale to be quite beautiful.

A small nit though, in the section where you introduce Shizuka,
[QUOTE]Once he was sold to the slave traders, a teenage girl names Shizuka took her in.[/QUOTE]
you seem to mix up the him and her, or at least that was how I read it.

Anyway, as I said, very nice (and kudos on the pic too)

[Doublehex]

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[color=white][i]Ten years later?[/i] Gendo Asakama sipped on sake as he listened to his advisor, Odo Kaisae. ?We are in need of another kakori, Gendo. With no Emperor, and the order of the Shogun dissipated, we got more rising enemies than I would like.? The clan lord nodded as he listened to the tune of the geisha playing a shamisen. ?I take it you have a suggestion, my old friend?? Odo grinned. ?Yes. There is a man who comes to train in a poor training ground every day. His abilities dishonor those around him everyday.? He raised his finger, indicating an important point. ?I tell you the truth, on my honor, you will be surprised when you first lay eyes on this man. Your eyes will be as large as a woman?s nipples.? ?Oh thank you Odo?, Gendo smirked. ?Now I have to see him.? Odo just smirked. ?When you see him, you will want more than just to observe, my Clan Lord.? [center]* * * * *[/center] ?Men! Men! Perform a men you slobbering dogs! Men!? The drill instructor?s command to perform a head strike echoed across the training ground. Gendo and Odo just walked past the training soldiers until they reached a small hill overlooking the grounds. They guided themselves to under a tree where the oncoming storm would not ?Where is this man??, Gendo asked? Odo pointed to a man clad in a argent kimono, reading to strike a dummy with his blade. ?Him? That is the one?? Odo nodded. ?But he is only sixteen, eighteen at the most! Is this a bad attempt at a joke, Odo?? The advisor grinned. ?Watch.? At that instant, the boy sliced the dummy in two. Gendo?s eyes went as wide as a woman?s nipples. Odo just chuckled. ?You look surprised, my lord.? Gendo turned to face him. ?That child?he must become one of our kakori. What is his name?? ?Toshiro Murasama.? [center]* * * * *[/center] ?Would I be correct in saying you are Toshiro Murasama?? The young boy was in the garden of Gendo Asakama, leader of one of the three clans that strived for power following the fall of the Emperor and the near annihilation of the Shogun. Toshiro nodded. ?I will be straight to the point, Toshiro-san. You have told my associates that you wish to use your skills as a tool for the people. I wish to borrow that tool for the same reason. I need those who will be willing to kill for the new era.? ?And will that era be?? ?An era full of equality for all of the four classes.? ?The other clans seem to be saying the exact same thing.? Gendo nodded in agreement. ?That is true. They all say that they want the same thing, that they all want freedom and justice for all the classes. However, have the acts they have committed just justifiable to their commitment? The Kaisa Clan acts more like a Syndicate than an actual competitor for leadership, and the Xasair kills both civilians and our militia in their attacks.? ?And yet, you have committed a little of both.? Gendo raised his eyebrow. ?You would trust the word of an alcohol clouded mind in the taverns?? Toshiro chuckled. ?My master always told me that sometimes the shadow holds more of the truth than the sun.? The Clan Master grinned. ?Your master must of have been very wise to have said such a thing, for it is all true.? He sighed. ?Yes, I have bribed to advance the conflict in my favor, and yes, sometimes my soldiers got out of hand in the street battles with the Kaisa and Xasair. But what makes you think the other Clans are any better? They are both opposite extremes on the scale, while mine acts in the middle, as a medium.? ?Then maybe I shouldn?t join any of the Clans at all.? ?And then maybe you will find that you might as well throw your katana into the sea. Joining none of the Clans will mean you will not make a difference in the conflict.? Toshiro sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, the Clan Master was correct. Join one Clan, or don?t make a difference at all. ?What is your decision, Toshiro-san?? ?I will join as your kakori.? ?Then come, and let us feed the fish, and talk of our plans for you and the future of the people.? Toshiro followed without hesitation.[/color]

[Aurons Ghost]

Very nice. Knowing very little about the culture it's based on, I still find it quite intriguing.

[Kre]

I find this a really nice story. One thing I do like about it is that the first chapter is a lot like Samurai X. It's very detailed and another reason I like it is because I'm into that kind of stuff. Any way overall you story is nicely done. But I do have to agree on when you introduced Shizuka.

[Guest Gun Preacher]

gun preacher gives two thumps up for this story!!very nice i like the whole samurai vibe and that its like samurai x cant wait to read more 5 cool points for the pic.