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 Post subject: Saito Yoshimitsu
PostPosted: Thu Jul 07, 2011 11:25 pm 
Caenyr Citizen
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Joined: Thu Aug 23, 2007 10:31 pm
Posts: 55
Location: East Coast USA, GMT-4
Gamespy ID: Calamitus_WoC
Character Name: Saito Yoshimitsu
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 32
Class: Justicar
Alignment: LN
Deity: Tyllar

Bio

The air changed subtly, he could smell the green and brown of the land that approached even from his bunk below deck. Voices shouted above and feet pounded over his head as he rolled out of bed and grabbed his few possessions. If a mirror had been available, he would have used it to examine himself. He wanted to make a good impression. As it was, a hand passed over his head found his ebon hair tightly pulled into a queue and tied into the topknot with no stray hairs, typical for his class. A quick glance down showed his silk kimono was clean and unwrinkled. It wasn’t of the best quality but as his father was oft to quote “Don't think your swords and clothing should be as good as those of other people. Be content as long as they don't look awful. Once you start acquiring what you don't have and become even poorer, you'll become a laughingstock.” His swords were in their accustomed place, under his obi on the left. White tabi and sandals completed his outfit. He climbed on deck disregarding the sailors rushing about, a small area remaining clear around him as he made his way to the rail. A long silk wrapped bundle was strapped to his back containing a straw raincoat, some preserved food, and his father’s sword, a blade passed down for five generations made by the famous sword smith Muramasa. Chail’s harbor quickly grew larger and soon the gangplank was lowered allowing cargo and passengers, he was the only one, to reach the dock.

***
The room was dim, only lit by a dozen candles and perfumed by incense burning in a shallow bowl. Tyllar’s owl and sword were prominently displayed on a hanging silk while various smaller silks depicted the names of several generations of ancestors that had gone before. Yoshi fidgeted on his knees, head bowed, as his father spoke quietly. “To truly master your sword, you must first master yourself. A bridled tongue will save your life more often than an unsheathed sword.” The child struggled to remain still and comprehend the meaning of the words at the same time. It was very difficult, but he steeled himself against the urge to wiggle and keeping his head bowed in respect, he snuck a glance at his father beside him. A small smile crossed his father’s face briefly and Yoshi quickly looked back down. “Our lord Tyllar teaches wisdom in justice. Remember that without wisdom, justice is nothing but revenge, a thin façade that falls apart when examined closely by a man of conscience, and offers no lasting satisfaction to a true warrior.”

***
Angry voices reached his room in his father’s house and he rose quietly to see what the commotion was about. “That arrogant son of a coal merchant! Couldn’t keep his temper to himself. Had to go and ruin our lives along with his.” His father fumed while his mother made conciliatory noises. Yoshi crept closer to the kitchen to hear more. A crash reverberated through the house as pieces of armor were hurled across the room. His father, Tatsuoki, had been assigned to accompany his daimyo to the shogun’s castle. Takeda Katsuyori, his family’s daimyo, had been instructed by the shogun to learn etiquette for dealing with emissaries of the Sinistrath under the tutelage of Tada Mitsuyori, another daimyo under the shogun. “Oichi! Stop wringing your hands! Prepare to leave immediately. Gather what we can carry. We have to be gone before the shogun’s soldiers arrive and we lose more than just our lands.” His mother scuttled out of the kitchen and past Yoshi with barely a look, heading toward the root cellar.

“Yoshi!” His father called and he advanced quickly into the kitchen bowing respectfully. His father regarded him solemnly for a moment. “Yoshi, son, I am afraid you won’t be able to finish your training as we had planned. Takeda has dishonored himself and our clan. We are to become landless, ronin” he spat the word out. “He dared to bare his weapon in the shogun’s castle and attacked daimyo Tada. I can’t decide which is more dishonorable, that he allowed his temper to get the better of him, or that he failed to kill Tada Mitsuoki. In any case, come morning he will be commanded to disembowel himself and we will be lucky to escape the same fate.” The scowl on his face deepened as he rubbed his forehead. “Gather your things, we are leaving as soon as we may.” As Yoshi turned to leave, his father poured himself a cup of sake and downed it quickly. Confusion and fear gripped Yoshi’s heart. What would become of them? With no employer they would be forced to work hard to earn their meals, or worse, beg for their food. The situation looked bleak. At only ten years old, Yoshi feared more for his parents than for himself.

***
They had been lucky. Yoshi was apprenticed to a sword smith and so was able to lighten the load of hardship for his family. They didn’t have to worry about feeding or housing him for the years he worked at the forge. He continued his samurai training as well. His father found the time to teach him the things he would have learned had they remained employed by their daimyo. He soon exceeded everything his father could teach him and with his smithy apprenticeship finished, he was ready to begin his own career as a warrior. Even though he was ronin, employment would make him samurai. His father suggested he should try the lands across the sea, he had heard of a group of samurai displaced by the Sinistrath, perhaps they would have a place for him. As a sign of his accomplishment, he was given his father’s sword, a reminder to never draw his blade unnecessarily, as the Muramasa blade was said to be cursed. Reportedly it could not be sheathed until it had tasted blood, even if it had to be its owner’s. Events would prove the curse to be true. Yoshi’s arms carried the reminder incised in fine parallel lines of scars where he had had to draw his own blood after freeing his blade without thinking.

***
Yoshi shifted the bundle on his back and squared his shoulders as he stepped down the gangplank. The smells of the docks were nearly identical to all the ones he had passed through on his journey. It was hard to believe that ten years had passed from that eventful day. He had had employment of a sort, protecting commoners, providing them justice where the official form was lacking, as ronin often did in exchange for meals or a place to lay his head. This was how he could afford to travel, by the skill of his sword and his commitment to bushido. Once on the dock he said a swift prayer to Tyllar for guidance in his search for employment before moving into the fast moving crowd heading for the city proper.


Last edited by Calamitus on Sun Jul 10, 2011 10:20 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: Saito Yoshimitsu
PostPosted: Thu May 08, 2014 8:50 am 
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Joined: Thu Aug 23, 2007 10:31 pm
Posts: 55
Location: East Coast USA, GMT-4
Edit: Changed age to reflect time passing


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