Friday, May 14, 2004

This is part 1 of my story its in parts 4 easier reading. it contains scenes of blood and violence which some people may find disturbing, u have been warned.
The palescent glow of the fading orange to red sun, lighting up the surrounding mountain range. A samurai, his skills honed into the point of is blade, through a life of dedication, travelled along the ranges rocky path.

His feet tread lightly ,leaving small foot prints of his presence in the grey dust. Slung carelessly over his shoulder lay a satchel containing food, water and minimal possesions. Sadled between his belt and black kimono lay his essence, his life being, his two blades; the legendary katana Naryusha and on the opposite side his brother the tanto Nashia. These had a more greater purpose then mere possesions. These were his tools, Like the weapon smith uses his hammer, to forge fine blades, he used, his tools to capture the malevolent evil from his victims, cleansing they're souls and allowing them to enter the afterworld pure, and set free from the sahckles of evil. These spirits, then are encased in a talsiman suspended about his neck.
Strands of brown hair lay sprawled on his beaded face, his hairs length reaching the middle of his back, fastened tightly by a crimson ribbon.

He is traveling towards the nearest town, which is about 16 miles due north of the path, over the range. His journey had taken him 48 days, sleeping where there was shelter and moving from town to town. Drifting along unnoticed, as if he didn't even exist. He was percieving a quest, a personal mission, and for his sake and alot of other peoples, he must accomplish it. A burning desire has befallen him and the heavy and cruel grudge that ways upon his shoulders will not be so kindly lifted until he has completed this mission.
The sky darkened as the sun's glow dwindled down like a candle about to die out, Cowering completely concealed now, behind the mountains range. As the shadows of night swept the sky.

He would continue walking until dawn, it was safer to rest in the bright of day, in these regions. He would be reaching the town in the morning anyway, for now though, he would have to keep his wits as sharp as his blades.
An hour or two had passed and the moon hung decieptfully in the sky. The path was shrowded deeply, in darkness now and the cries of wild, perhaps savage animals clung to the air piercing the darkness. The samurai, his name unknown sat perched on a outcrop of rocks, a leather clad water carrier lay pressed against his parched lips. Once he was contempt and ready, he stood up and placed the carrier back into the sathel. A strong silence had seized the night, as the animals cries fell distant and then died out altogether. A scuffle, then silence.

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