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Tales of the Shattered Blade (RP)


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ooc: sorry for not posting; someone was using my cp

rp: Shade stepped outside. Someone walked by him and was sent a shiver down their spine. The person thought if this person was even human. He continued on walking down into the heart of the forest. Shade used to be a good person. He used to be known as Alexander, but something happened, and turned evil. He went to be a Dark Knight. He smelled the air. Fresh meat was near. He ran to the area. He saw some knight training. Judging by his technique, he was obviously a rookie. He decided to let him live and continued on...

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OoC: Put the pic in a spoiler when it's big like that. Also' date=' watch the history channle more often, you learn that when Samurai were first made, ALL of their swords were curved and really long.

[/quote']

 

Not all swords, MOST swords. I have a huge collection of swords and 1 of my samuri swords is perfectly strait. (I like to collect weapons and study them because my job requires the study of weapons)

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ooc: hes not by the Tavern yet but he doesn't even stop there

rp: Shade walks by the Tavern, and turned a corner about a block away. Then he walked into an inn. The clerk nearly fainted when he saw him. "M...may...I..I help..you...sir..?"

"Yeah. Give me a room now"

"But sir, there are..."

"What did you say? Then you had better make some! Or you'll be one of the many hanging on my wall.

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Meti couldn't even close his eyes, he was agitated by the music playing outside, and he sensed something dark pass by, but he didn't care. He just wanted to get away from the music.

So he stood up, payed the tip at the counter, and walked out.

It was a clear sky that night, the clouds were all gone, the stars shimmering delightfully, the moon casting a pleasent glow over the town, the cool breeze easing through and bathed over him, and he gave a sniff through the nighttime air, he smelled the freshness of the lake, the beautiful sent of the roses in the mayor's garden, and the steamy chocolate from the Tea-Shop.

And as Meti walked to his apartment, he felt releaved to get away from the music, to enter into the silence, and finally be allowed to sleep.

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Isis smiled and said to himself. "Someone has a temper tonight. Ah well guess I'll have to go to the Tea-Shop and get a drink." Isis left the inn and went across the street and entered the Tea-Shop. "Hello, may I help you sir." Isis looked at the woman. "Yes I'd like a cup of Straw-Tea and a bowl of Meing Soup please." The woman smiled. "Coming right up!" Isis took his seat at the farthest table to the right of the entrance...

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Heyo...

 

Name: Sian Tsubasa

Age: 22

Type: Sokuryokudo

Class: Samurai

Weapon: twin claws

Description: About 5'8, has shoulder length sand brown hair with steaks of red that falls over his eyes in thin bangs and sticks up at the back. His eyes are steel colored and often narrowed.

 

 

Sian heaved a sigh and brushed his sandy hair out of his eyes. He'd just arrived and was already feeling exhausted, it was getting late but he could still hear activity from a few buildings. He glanced about for a bit before he moved on, stifling a yawn as he went. It was then that a yell alerted him to something and he whirled about, his tiredness forgotten for the moment. He could see people running from somewhere, a few pointing and screaming, he followed their gaze inside a building and saw a man lying dead and the sound of footsteps.

"Oh, terrific," Sian sighed.

He walked inside the building and glanced about, irritably.

"Hey, anybody home?" He called "Excuse me, murderer-san, if you don't mind I've had a really bad day so I'd rather you didn't go killing people and causing an uproar!"

He sighed and gazed down at the body.

"I hope nobody finds me here and accuses me of doing this," he muttered.

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Meti was agitated by the sound of the screaming now. he walked out into his suspended landing, porch, and performed a series of hand signs. When finished, he said calmly, "Sound Style, Banshee Aura." And a loud wailing ws casted over the town. But he was used to his jutsu so well, that he didn't wince once. "Maybe that will get people to shut up." he said quietly before laying back down onto his bed.

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Sian glanced up at the figure glaring at him, then back at the body.

"Well you must be really impatient if you wanna kill him over it," he said, glancing back at the man "I'd hate to see what happens when you get dumped by your girlfriend, if you ever had one."

He heaved a slight sigh and brushed another lock of hair out of his face only to have it fall back again.

"Oh yeah, have you seen a guy in his fifties with graying blond hair and eyes that look kinda like the moon?" He asked "Oh never mind."

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Meti still had trouble sleeping. His body was aching for the longing of sleep, but his mind was too alert. Why? There is nothing to worry about here. He thought to himself. He decided to fight the sleep, and walk back outside and out to the lake.

His senses took full notice of his surrounding, so he let himself sit dow, cross-legged, eyes closed, to meditate. Finding his mind at peace no matter the distractions. His flowed from where he sat at the edge of the bank, to the vast outlanding forests upon the opposite side of the peaceful and silent lake.

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Claw was just ambling out of the tavern to follow the mysterious, seemingly tired man, when he heard the scream. He slowly walked in the direction everyone was running away from and stepped inside the building, only to see a very dark man standing up some stairs from a brown-haired man who was describing "eyes like the moon."

 

In one swift glance he took in the whole room, dead body and all.

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Meti opened his eyes after an hour of recollection. His eyes reflected the same color as the very moon itself now. He took a deep and slow breathe, and looked out into the distant lake. He knew something dark and fierce had entered the city. But he did not let it bother him. Sense he took no sides during battles or wars. He was only a mercenary, whichever side paid better, he'd fight for. But he was starting to doubt his descision. Should he even be involved in the war? Would his father respect what he was doing for a living? His father, he never once asked him what it was like to fight for your country, for your land. he had never asked his father anything, he thought he knew what everything was like. But he had been wrong, and he regretted ever having such ideas as a child or as a trainee. He had watched as his friends and family had all burned in the flames, slashed down by raiders, and drowned in the very blood that too flowed in his vains. The blood that later became a lake so vast, so deep, and so foul, that no one dared to enter it. No one dared to go near it, except the very one who shared it's blood. The very one who sat at a different lake-side, 100 miles of his once true and proud home. Artarius, now known as the Dark Lake.

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