Omoikane ~ Intro

The sun was beaming downward on the surface of Astraia-Improba beneath it. A mystifying, but physically alluring figure was walking on a trail, with rice fields on the side of it. This dirt side road would ultimately direct him to Agawa. All the peasants could tell that this man was a samurai – he had shed blood before that was certain. The man’s pastel face was shadowed by his ample, rounded straw hat, to keep the light of the day from hurting his amber-colored eyes. On the sides of his waist were katana, conventionally worn by warriors of this era. The peasants didn’t utter a word, they were either in admiration of his magnificence, or afraid of what he is capable of, and why he’d be within range of their home.

There was a ring coming from the wind chimes at the doorway of a hardened sand home with a straw roof and entrance. An old man peered at the entrance, and noticed a graceful man, with two katana at his side. The long haired samurai removed his straw hat, and laid it softly on the counter in front of him, only to take a seat transversely from the old man shortly after that.

The two hadn’t exchanged words quite yet. The old man was approving of the hidden youthfulness in the man sitting across from him. Peasants that had been waiting in attendance of the Agawa Village Elder, exited the house. “Sam…u…rai?” The Elder spoke little by little. “Ah.” The young man replied. “Are you the Crusader that was to service me here?” The samurai opened his amber eyes, and looked narrowly at the man. Abruptly, the old man withered. His gaze was so sharp and commanding – almost as if he was overcome by a ghost. “Ah.” He replied once more. In all sincerity, he wasn’t a member of the Crusaders at all, it was simply a pretext to get him prearranged in a meeting with Demonborn that had been menacing the locals – who had also been in league of a smuggling operation to and fro the Demonborn in Astral Sanctum.

The old man started rinsing a glass plate spotless. “…Then you’ve been informed of the Demons who have been disquieting us?” The old man asked him. “Ah.” He paused. “The Ikawaro Gang.” The samurai spoke, deficient of any trace of sentiment within him. “So, you believe you are capable of handling them all on your own? I thought the Crusaders functioned in squads?” The old man was mistrustful of this samurai. There was no rejoinder from the samurai. The Village Elder grumbled beneath his tongue. “At what point in time do the Ikawaro filch your rice?” The samurai asked the old man, taking his glance off of the old man’s eyes. “The hour of the ox.” By this the Village’s Elder meant 2am. “Very well. They will do you no impairment on this night.” With that said, the samurai picked up his straw hat and rested it over his head.

“Samurai-sama! I insist you travel watchfully! Your compensation will be waiting for you tomorrow at the hour of the snake!” This would be approximately 10am. The Samurai exited the room, without another remark spoken.

The forlorn samurai inaudibly sat up against the local tavern’s bar counter. A hulking adult Corporeal had turned to face the samurai, who had inadvertently careworn the bartender’s attention. “And what can I get ye, Samurai-sama?” The bartender asked him unconventionally. The samurai peered aloft at the bartender’s eyes from under the dimness of his straw hat. With an unyielding look on his face, he spoke. “…Kojiki tea.” The samurai replied with a yielding tone of voice. “Kojiki tea it is then, gracious Crusader!” The samurai hadn’t spoken an utterance afterward.

The mystifying samurai’s amber gaze drifted towards the back of his position. The same woman had been following him, initially drawing his awareness with the bawl coming from a mare, and subsequently inside the local tavern he had anticipated on comforting in – these Corporeal bodies undoubtedly got exhausted over time – especially after a walk from one county to another. Without saying a word, the samurai stood up from his stool, and turned around, in the course of the tavern’s exit, he didn’t glance at the wary Corporeal trailing him at all as he walked outside of the tavern. The bartender returned with Kojiki tea, but, there was no longer a samurai to hand round.

Without focusing any of his notice in the direction of yet another samurai – who was most likely the valid Crusader hired to get the job done, he ostensibly began walking outside of the village, out into the village’s periphery. Following at the back of him was the same Corporeal from the tavern, and he intended to find out who she beyond doubt is, and what dealing she had for him.

It seemed that this woman was pursuing the samurai. When she revealed herself, the samurai knew what was imminent – she would attempt his assassination. Corporeal factions were so predictable. He paused in his steps as she greeted herself. “Do you seize me for a fool?” He paused, turning his head in the woman’s direction, all the while gaping profoundly into her eyes. “…Travelers don’t flaunt katana.” This is when the samurai drew one of his two katana, and promptly spun in the region of the woman, positioning the rim of his blade touching the woman’s neck. He had the gaze of one who had by now shed blood; his amber gaze was intensified – chiefly now, since there was a sharp edge touching the woman’s neck. With a bitter expression on his face, the samurai spoke. “Why are you following me, cur?” He waited for an answer. There were a small number of townsfolk near the stables, and yet if they did witness him with a blade against an equipped woman’s esophagus, they’d overlook it – being essential for their Village’s own wellbeing.

Augustus was walking leisurely, and as he walked he had anticipated on his sister lingering behind, and staying out of danger. The outcome nonetheless, proved otherwise. She began following him on horseback. He stopped in his tracks once more, now a tad aggravated, though; he didn’t show the exasperation himself. In his typical manner, he spoke. “Travelers do not pursue samurai into combat.” He paused. “You’re drawing too much attention; I counsel you get off of Clau’s backside if you intend to tag along.” He warned her. There were a few townsfolk simply staring at Celia uneasily, most likely thinking to themselves whether or not the lady following the samurai was his aficionada. Augustus kept moving onward coolly; he knew that if she sought after following him, he would be incapable of compelling her not to.

CRASH! There was an intense and brisk impact right in front of Augustus and Celia’s position. It happened so quickly, nevertheless, Augustus’s reflexes proved superior to the accurateness and timing of his foe. He had jumped back, as his sister jumped to the side. The smoke was thick, and Celia prepared herself with the blade enclosed on her horse’s saddle. When the smoke cleared, Agawa’s inexplicable samurai exposed himself, his blades standing by for battle. One blade was detained in a annul grip in his right hand, the added blade was detained in a standard grip in his left. This was a complicated manner of sword fighting to employ proficiently in battle, but, Augustus had more then enough time practicing, and humanizing what he already cared to discern

There was a fortified samurai – most likely the bona fide Crusader. Augustus hadn’t anticipated on dealing with the factual Crusader, his objective was to unearth the Ikawaro Gang’s center of operations, crush them while gathering information all at the same time, lastly recurring to the White Palace; a succession of events that his attendants would by no means consent him to do all on his own. It was superlative for him to creep out of the White Palace at the present, while the spy network that he had set his sister in charge of was still in its earlier development phase. Still however, his level process was hindered by his sister, which was possibly a good indication.

He looked at the female samurai firmly with his intense, amber eyes. “Why do you infringe in the harmony of this village?” He asked her austerely, raising his tone of voice given that she was still a tad away on or after his position. More of the villagers started assembling in the region of Augustus, Celia and the Crusader.

Without further action, Angelus knew that he would have to deal with the aggravating samurai sooner than he could carry on surveying the county of Agawa for the Ikawaro Gang’s hideaway. Mutely, he positioned both of his swords flipside into their esteemed sheathes. He would have to conclude this trifling quarrel promptly, and considered necessary to uphold his salutation in Agawa subsequently. …Incommodious Corporeal… He contemplated to himself.

Augustus curved his consideration to his younger sister, Celia. With an uncompromising idiom on his face, he spoke in a pliable tone. “A praiseworthy swordfight in regard to the samurai does not engross two opponents in opposition to one. Compose a use for yourself, and diagram the expanse within the region of Agawa. Revisit me in less than an hour.” He ordered his sister prior to revolving around and walking leisurely in the course of the samurai.

The two swordsmen congested in their tracks when they reached a clearing to contest within devoid of interlude. It seemed that the Crusader was interested in the samurai’s intentions. “Illuminating my attendance in Agawa would be an inconvenience for me.” He drew both of his katana. In his right hand, he wielded his katana in an annul grip, and in his left hand he wielded his katana in its uniform form. The drawing of his blades was a speedy feat, and proved his precedential finesse with swordsmanship. He tipped his straw hat upward a bit to get an improved analysis of his challenger, and with his razor-sharp and calculating tawny eyes he stared into her eyes. “Do you have any final words? If not, then let us begin.” He proclaimed with his commanding tenor.