Awaiting a Challenge (Open to Damnation)

Posts : 730

Saya’s missions had been going well enough, but she had yet to see any real action. The desire to delve fully into the passionate heat of a full on war had been lingering in her mind. Since leaving her home’s ancestral keep she’s seen little to no war. Her missions had all been peaceful and lacking in danger, as though the kage thought she was just some child, unprepared for the rigors of warfare. Ridiculous! Saya lived, breathed, and bled warfare.

Kirigakure’s marketplace had grown used to seeing Saya about, it quickly becoming a regular place for her to show off the skills of Kiri’s local genin. It’d been a long day, but still she was waiting there. Saya was dressed in only her robes and chain mail, the black links looking much like fishnet against her pale skin. Across her lap sat her ancient katana, it’s plain black scabbard concealing the perfectly forged blade resting inside of it. This had become a much loved past time for Saya, because she herself valued a good fight. Challenges were rare, and she was just about ready to give up for the day. The sun was hanging low in the sky, and her small bowl was already filled to the top with Ryo. Coins and bills filled it to the top, the modest wooden dish holding quite the small fortune within it.

The bowl had been set aside, waiting as patiently as Saya for another challenge. Most who passed her by did not wish to do so, as word of her skill had been spreading. Few had bothered to clash swords with her today, and those that did mostly lost. The rules to her matches gave her an advantage over even most shinobi. A simple sign sat in front of the bowl of coins, with rather simple instructions written on it.

“100 Ryo to Challenge. 1,000 Ryo if you win. Sword on Sword. No Jutsu.” It stated in plain, and bold, letters, sure to be read by everyone within sight of the sign. As she waits for her next challenge, Saya doesn’t move a muscle. Like a monk in meditation, she simply sits, and waits. She only planned another ten or fifteen minutes of waiting before she packed up and went home with the days profits. The crowd at the market was dwindling, and with them her hopes of another good fight was gradually fading away.

Posts : 33

The ambitions of his countrymen always interested Khael. There were often similar, boring prospects of his country that left the little visible nature even less desired to view. To be honest, Khael just enjoyed laughing at those whos desires were feeble. Nothing posative could be said about a wolf who wants to be a sheep. 'Compassion.. The word means nothing to me.. Why help one whom doesn't truly want to be helped?.. Warriors of my homeland.. Often, the only time I let you live is because I must. A traitor's title is not something I currently desire.' His mocking thoughts rushed through as he imagined more and more cowardice. A disgusting trait to hold, yet one so frequent. A man without his sword is still man, a man without his jutsu is still a man. In fact, only when a man lays down his arms thus giving up his honor, his will to fight, does he fall under a different catagory. He becomes.. a parasite..

His blue kimono rustled with the gentle eastern wind. The fact that the wind managed to pass through the great fog was a miracle of its' own. Raising his hand, which was bandaged around the palm and up the arm, Khael moved his wispy gray hair out of his face. Taking in a deep yawn, he shifted the black straps resting over his Kimono, which held the Kimono partially on. He wasn't much for style, he wore custom clothing. Practical uses only, even his faded black boots were made out of a special material, the bottoms preventing sound from reaching the ears of anyone outside his blade circle. There were few things that intrigued him, one of which was what stood before him, or sat rather. A person with a nearby sign noting a challenge. Sword to sword combat, an interesting feature in the middle of the market.

Curious as to the participant's abiltiy, Khael stepped forward next to the sign. His brown eyes shifted, examining the sitting shinobi. 'This one doesn't exactly seem worth my time, nor do I want the prize. Absolutly pointless, but its' not like I have evening plans. Let's give the girl a little scratch, maybe she'll think before posting signs requesting her death.. She's lucky i'm the forgiving type.. Mercy is.. my current mood.' As his thoughts progressed, he was taking out the required money. Another useless material, but the world seems more interested in it than anything else. Setting it next to the sign, he smiled.

"You're rather brave for challenging everyone in the village. I feel it is neccesary to test your courage. Without jutsu, the man is still a man. He needs nothing more than his hands to kill everyone in his path. The man's goal.. That.. That is all that matters.." he said, setting his other shinobi equipment to the ground. The spot next to the sign became an oddly organized pile of weapons which seemed to come from every pocket he had, even some people couldn't figure out existed. The last to go was his weapon belt, and he drew his sword. The sword was called, "Blade of the North Winds". He'd obtained it from his clan. The silver material seemed to be one entire piece, as the hilt was forged on to the blade itself. It was double edged with small spikes on the bottom of the hilt which seemed rather sharp by appearance. The blade itself was long, extending roughly 4.2 feet, and 8-12 inches wide, depending on the location. There were gaps in the blade, the crafter intending a disarm feature.

The sun shined brilliantly through the mist, a flash from his equipment caught eye as he awaited his opponet's decision. Standing about 25 feet in front of her, he smiled lightly. The tip of his sword rested on the ground digging a small hole which was revealed only by the hidden point.
"May I.." he paused, clearing his throat. ".. May I Have this dance?.." He said, gripping the sword's hilt tightly.
To fight, or not to fight, the decision was at hand.

Posts : 730

Saya’s head tips upwards as she hears a voice more directly addressing her from the thinning marketplace crowd. Those who’d noted the sign seem to take interest as well. Regardless of the intentions of the various inhabitants scurrying about the market place, those who were in the immediate area quickly begin to make some room. This wasn’t the first time today there’d been a fight in her little corner of the market. The alley she was in front of offered only a modest amount of space to. Truly, there was no room to maneuver in anything more than a large circle.

She pushes herself easily to her feet after Khael is finished speaking, her left hand scooping up her katana before it can fall to the ground beneath her. Saya had come here armed with only her katana, so she needed to pile no other weapons to the side. “I do not know if it is a matter of courage. Those without the finesse to control where their sword strikes will never be able to hit me. Those who are able to somehow slip past my defense, should also understand the value of displays such as this. This isn’t a display or courage or valor. This is a display of skill.” She says, slowly drawing her katana as she speaks the last word. Skill indeed.

The blade saya was armed with could seem a dime store purchase, if a second glance was not given to it. The sword itself lacked embellishments and decorations, and was the definition of simplicity. The blade was a mirror polished arch that swung gracefully downwards as Saya showed off it’s design with slight flourish. It ends up over her right shoulder, the angle concealing it’s dimensions better. White ray skin over the handle was wrapped tightly in black silk, and then capped on the bottom with a simple steel stud. To those with an eye for weapons, the sword was clearly more than it seemed. If not magical, it was surely one of the finest normal katanas in the lands.

The girl seemed quite confident in her ability, almost as though she thought she would win this. After seeing the sword the man wielded, she was certainly thinking otherwise inside. With a blade like that, surely Khael far out ranked her. Even the fine blade she wielded out ranked her, but her family specialy focus on their ancient and battle tested weapons gave her insights on using the fine quality sword. By her guessing the sword was made for chewing through things, and likely deadly with even a light touch. The crowd around the both of them formed into a good sizd circle, the market place falling a little quite.

“I would traditionally say that the match will last until first blood. The winner is the one able to draw their opponent’s blood first. With the few rules in mind, I must also ask that.. your large and impressive sword also not conjure forth great gouts of flame or water or the likes. There are many gathered who would not appreciate such things. With the rules in mind, I will leave it to you to accept my challenge. You are more than welcome to test my courage however you please.” She says, bowing slightly as she does. Her left hand reaches up to the side and tosses her sword’s scabbard onto a near by crate. She shifts her stance and draws her sword down to better present it out in front of her. She waits on the defensive, allowing him the first attack.

Posts : 730

(Topic ended.. ugh.)