2006 TOA R1: Anomaly v. Overdriven

[LocoColt04]

OOC: Again, I apologize for the delay. Have a glance at the Information thread if you're curious about why. In any case, let's get things going. Though it goes without saying, be sure to double check the TOA rules and have another glance through the thread about what we look for when judging -- it should help you out. Since it's already after 6pm CST on the 15th, I will not close the threads in exactly ten days.

Instead, the thread will be closed sometime on 26 Jun 2006. Judging will occur as soon as possible and the quarterfinals will go up immediately afterward.

Keep your eyes on the Information thread; all important updates will continue to go into that thread. If there are any questions, feel free to PM or utilize the Q&A thread, which will remain open. But enough of the formalities.

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The night was calm, but overcast. The moon shone brightly through the thin layer of clouds, rising and fading as the gentle breeze moved southward. The courtyard was quiet. The thin trees loomed menacingly overhead, amplified by the eerie darkness about them. A pair of leaves danced beneath a stone bench.

Much of the ground was covered in stone. It was muggy, but not quite damp enough for dew to form. Each of the courtyard's four small gardens was home to a tree; each garden was located in one of the four corners. The rest of the space was open, aside from a bench here or a pile of leaves there. The only real obstruction was the oversized stone birdbath located in the exact center. (OOC: use this however you wish, but do not destroy it)

Each wall of the courtyard held four small torches. Despite the large, open area in the middle, the lighting was quite fair -- perhaps the full moon could be thanked for that. There were two entrances; one on the east wall, leading into the dining and kitchen areas, and one on the west wall, leading into one of the main living areas. All of the bedrooms were upstairs. The entire first level of the estate was filled with common rooms, furniture, and doors to the outer estate. (OOC: you can destroy whatever you want inside the house, so long as you don't burn the place down)

The wind grew calm. Three figures appeared in a window upstairs. The unknown men, assumed to be the hosts of this tournament, stood calmly, watching over the courtyard. A voice rang out from above. "BEGIN!"

Two fighters stepped into the courtyard; one from the east, and one from the west.

[Anomaly]

From the east, Ketsurui stands outlined by the warm light of the kitchens. His silhouette glances up into the night sky, the moonlight reflecting in his solitary eye. He wears the same clothing and armor which he arrived in, muddy leather shoes make not a sound upon the courtyard stones as he walks forward.

In his left hand he holds a bowl of rice and in his right a set of chopsticks. He looks more like an old peasant out for a moonlit stroll rather than a merciless killer. A single fire fly, early or late for the season Ketsurui cannot remember, alights briefly upon his bowel of rice drawing his eyes back down. He shoos the little creature away with his chopsticks, then levels his one good eye at the western entrance from whence his adversary would come. His demeanor seems overtly relaxed, as though he does not care if god or beast were to come through that door.

As he comes to the center of the courtyard, washed in moonlight, the eye of an observer begins to adjust to take in finer details. At his right side a disturbing configuration of hooks and jutting blades can be identified as his hook swords in their unified form, held about his waist by a long segmented chain. This accounts for all his visible weaponary. What cannot be seen, however, are the twenty-five needles he has prepared and hidden on his person. Ten are simple steel needles, five have been dipped in prickly heat, five have the powdery coating of sleep crest, and five have been soaked in the oil of vile seed.

Ketsurui lifts a morsel of rice midway to his mouth, then stops as if a thought has suddenly struck him.

"Not that I paticularly care, but may I ask your name?"

[Overdriven]

"Begin!"

Like thunder from the heavens, the voice rang out in the night. For a moment it bounced around the estate, the echo slowly fading to nothingness. The sound of dozens of wings reached into the building, caused by the abrupt and forceful shout, and fell upon a young Ronin's ears.

Unlike the flock of birds, Kurayami remained calm and motionless. He sat cross legged in the center of a living room, eyes closed. Resting on the floor next to him was his primary weapon; Haiiro-rein. His shorter sword had already been attached to his belt, as well as both small tanto and his shuriken. The Reikoku chose not to use his bow for this particular bout. Kurayami had been waiting, deep in meditation, as he prepared for his battle mentally. With a deep, calming breath, the ronin slowly opened his eyes.

It was time for battle.

He rose smoothly and silently, snatching the weapon up as he did with slender fingers. Coming to his full height, he did not bother to attach the sword. He would carry it out with him. Left hand tightly gripping the saya, Kurayami walked to one of the outer doors leading to the courtyard. The sliding door slipped open with ease, basking the courtyard in a little extra light.

Kurayami stepped outside, allowed his first glimpse of his quarry. The man wore mostly leather armor, with the exception of black scalemail armor covering his right shoulder. An attack to any of the leather clad areas would be quite damaging, with the penetrating power of Haiiro-rein. Otherwise the man seemed somewhat out of place, with his hair and beard trimmed in such a way. The fact that he was spending his preparation time absently eating was either very arrogant, or very stupid.

Kurayami quickly sized up his battleground. Good room to maneuver, plenty of open space outside, and decent lighting. He could work in the element he had been given. A light northern wind wind blew his navy touched hair across his forehead, whispering the threats of a thousand fallen soldiers into his ear. He had long before learned to ignore the voices on the wind, for they spoke nothing worth hearing. He would not fear those he had slain, at least not in this life.

"Not that I paticularly care, but may I ask your name?" The man suddenly asked of him, pausing in his gluttony.

"If you did not particularly care, you would not have asked." Kurayami said calmly, his ocean blue eyes landing on the man.

"Kurayami Reikoku." The ronin said simply.

Still gripping Haiiro-rein tightly, Kurayami stepped away from the building and into the courtyard, his footfalls quiet on the stone floor. He moved a bit further into the light of the moon, silver glinting off his dark armor. The Reikoku asked nothing of the man, for he cared not who he was. He had come for a chance to test his skills, not have a friendly chat.

[Anomaly]

The first glimmers of something other than indifference flicker over Ketsurui's face. It's a look that says very plainly that he would be laughing under other circumstances. If the name is familiar to him or not, its hard to say. As it is he brings the little ball of rice closer to his lips with his chopsticks before he speaks again to the fiery lad. The first part of the sentence is spoken like a man to his grandson, while the last is spoken with ominous certainty.

"Very well then...good night Kurayami Reikoku."

It is the gentlest of flicks of the chopsticks, yet the ball of rice flies from between the sticks with deadly accuracey. Does Ketsurui wish to dishonor these events by degenerating them into a mere food fight? Under the moonlight, a silver glimmer breaks free of the sticky rice, and leaves a trail of soft blue powder in its wake. A steel needle poisoned with Sleep Crest hurtles towards the soft flesh of Reikoku's throat.

Apprently if it hits or not is no concern to the older man as he drops both chopsticks and bowel without ceremony and draws his hooked swords. With a soft metalic clang he seperates the two, so that he may grip one in each hand. No sooner is this accomplished than he rockets forward with only a whisper to mark the passing of his soft shod feet upon the ground.

Guarding with his left hook sword in a defensive position to absorb any sword strike that might follow, he rakes the other through the air in a low upper-cut swing. Enough distance is maintained that if the blow is not blocked, the hook portion of the sword aimed at the young mans groin will take much, MUCH more from Reikoku than his conciousness.

[Overdriven]

"Very well then...good night Kurayami Reikoku." The man said, moving.

He flicked a piece of rice at Kurayami, and even as it left his chopstick the Ronin was dropping to a crouch. The man had given a not so subtle tell, with the ominous tone he added to his words. It spoke volumes to Kurayami, who had already suspected a suprise attack. It would fit the man's entire persona, using the element of surprise.

Kurayami set one leg behind him, bending it but keeping his center of balance. The other leg was planted forward somewhat, keeping him well grounded but without over extending the extremity. A small flash of light passed above The Reikoku's head, as the attack he had been expecting flew harmlessly past. It was a small needle of some kind, much thinner than the straight bladed shuriken he utilized. They would be difficult to see, and hard to predict when they came at him. He'd have to keep a medium distance, so as not to be pricked by one in close quarters or have them thrown from afar.

Apparently that type of a battle didn't bother his opponent, who ran at him full speed, brandising both hook swords. The man held one defensively in front of him, the other coming in fast. No longer could Kurayami predict the oncoming attack; He would now have to rely on reflexes and speed. The attacking sword was aimed at Kurayami's crotch, which would now be even more devastating for he had crouched lower to the ground. The blade would catch his genitals, possibly his chest, and face if it impacted.

He just wouldn't allow it to.

Kurayami rotated his saya quickly in his left hand, turning it perpendicular across his stomach. Shifting his weight forward, the Ronin drew Haiiro-rein halfway from it's sheath, using the edge of his blade to catch the hook of his foes. The two swords clashed in a high pitched whine and a shimmer of light, and Kurayami managed to keep his balance.

However, staying in such a position for long would put him at a disadvantage.

Kurayami rose quickly, rotating the handle of his katana toward the sky. He would turn the blade inside of the hook of the first sword, attempting to use his strength, leverage, and quickness to strike the man's defensive sword from the side with the edge of his own weapon. He would come to stand to full, shoving hard toward where his opponent had been holding his weapons in an attempt to open his guard. He would then propel the butt of Haiiro-reins handle toward the man's nose, in the hope of smashing it in. It would most likely not break his opponents nose, but would surely wet his eyes and impair his vision should it connect.

Kurayami would then make a back foot backward shuffling motion, keeping the tip of his sword a few inches within the sheath. He would try and clear any immediate close quarters counter attack, and keep his guard up enough to be somewhat prepared for whatever his opponent threw at him. The Reikoku hadn't had enough of an opening to really do damage to his foe, but he hopefully had given himself a distinct advantage by putting a layer of tears over the man's eyes.

Edit: Removed signature.

[Anomaly]

Metal whined against metal as the blades meet, a high insect tone compared to the sound of the breeze in the leaves. A grim smile on Ketsurui's face said he expected as such, but the game is neither won nor lost with the first roll of the dice. Reikoku brings his blade against his other hook sword, however in a battle of blades the object is not to strike the others sword, but the opponent himself.

Ahh, so thats the game...

As the hilt of The Reikoku's sword whispers out of its sheath, the old one eyed man throws his head backwards. All his weight is thrown at once, unlocking the blades and sending his body hurtling backwards end over end. He does a handstand on the garden stones, crescent blade guards of his hook swords touching down perfectly. He then flips into an upright position, both hook swords held in a gaurding stance in case his opponent had pressed the attack.

He was vaguely dissapointed to see "The Ruthless" had not followed him and instead had backed away. With a clang, he draws his blades together at the hooks of each and slings the left one out of his hand while spinning the right over his head. The centrifugal force of the motion makes a massive swinging sling blade of the two. If the blow of the hook swords is avoided or blocked, upon the ending of the sweep, Ketsurui will draw his errent hook sword back to his hand with the other.

While the crescent blade guard of the hook sword hurtles towards Reikoku's neck with enough force to decapitate, Ketsurui's hand slides into his robe and draws out four steel needles. These he throws at four lower target, Reikoku's chest, stomach, left arm and right leg. The peircing needles leave no trail in the air, so they seem not to be poisoned.

I wonder how ruthless a pin cushion can be...

[Overdriven]

As the man's hook blade hurtled toward his throat, Kurayami rose to meet it. Casting the saya away from his sword, he snapped the blade skyward to parry the man's attack away. Again the blades met in a bright flash and a ringing sound, as The Reikoku observed the man reaching into his robes. Most likely more of his pins.

Kurayami wasn't in a good position to defend himself from the needles, not at this distance and with his sword engaged already. Four needles were propelled at the Ronin, and Kurayami moved accordingly. The needle flying toward his left arm was simple enough to deflect, as it was already rather close to his blade. Merely a flick of the wrist sent the small metal pin flying away from him. The next two needles struck Kurayami in the chest, as he made no move to parry them away. His chest armor was sufficient to keep the pins from penetrating and causing damage to his person.

The last needle, however, being far beyond his reach with only one sword, stuck with a sting into his right thigh, piercing the less thick armor there. It had barely punctured his flesh, but it was a hit. Kurayami doubted that it would be poisoned. Surely the man wouldn't waste four valuable needles on such a hasty attempt.

Kurayami ignored the pin in his leg, continuing to press forward into a counter attack. Following through after blocking the man's attack, The Reikoku directed the tip of Haiiro-rein at his foes attacking arm, attempting a quick cut. It wouldn't do a great deal of damage, but it would affect his use with said arm. As he attempted to slice his opponents arm open, Kurayami snapped his right hand quickly to his armor. He reached quickly into the side of his breastplate, removing one of two straight bladed shuriken that were concealed there.

Two could play his game.

With a flick of the wrist and advancing footwork, Kurayami flung the blade downward. He aimed the point of the shuriken at the man's left foot. As his fellow combatant was engaged with controlling his spinning blades and flying pins, there surely wasn't much chance he could avoid the puncturing of his foot through the thin, muddy boots he wore.

Kurayami drove himself forward, moving close enough that it would be difficult to use the needles effectively, either by stabbing or throwing. Kurayami now had to deal with the man's hook swords, which he could. He still held his blade in an upper grip, keeping it above his head as his hand quickly came back to the hilt. He was already prepared for a counter attack.

[Anomaly]

The distance afforded by the double sling blade manuever was enough to allow Ketsurui time to haul the ineffective blade back to his left hand before his opponents sword could lay open his right arm. Both blades were back in hand as a flash of metal left his enemy and flickered down to his shoe. There is a solid thunk and the sound of metal on stone. For a moment, Ketsurui seems frozen to the spot...then with a sound of ripping and tearing material he springs back.

He spares only the most fleeting of glances at the torn leather shoe. The Ruthless had actually managed to nick one of his toes! The audacity of it all. Standing next to the bird bath, Ketsurui's grim smile takes on a more humorous edge as he glares down his advancing adversary.

A steady offense but still nothing respectabley leathal...perhaps I should change tact?

What little smile there is drains from the older mans face and his entire body language changes. Where there was a sense of a humorous if deadly personality before there is...well...nothingness. To say that his look was blank would be an understatement. The fact is as he raises his arms, blades held pointing down with limp wrists, he appears more like a souless insect than a man.

His good eye is hidden in shadow and only the seered shut eye appears, the dark scars in stark contrast to his pale skin in the moonlight. He makes no move to attack or defend and his stance appears balanced. One gets the feeling they could hammer at the image all day and it would not move once. As though any attack would be immediatly regreted...

Ketsurui is poised, but is to to strike or flee?

[Overdriven]

Kurayami watched the man with calm eyes. Observed his actions and reactions throughout the battle, as well as his now rather baffling defensive style. His wrists were limp, looking as though they were incapable of supporting the weight of the hook swords. However, there was nothing weak in the appearance of his stance. If anything he looked somewhat surreal, as if he had transformed into an insectile warrior.

However, The Reikoku was not intimidated.

"I've never come across anyone who has fought as you do." He said honestly, holding his sword with one hand.

With his free hand, Kurayami gripped the needle that had pierced his leg. He pulled it free without wincing. A short examination was then given, as he looked over the pin with unreadable eyes. He then tossed it aside, moving Haiiro-rein to his right side. He gripped it tightly with his strong hand, aiming the point of the blade down and toward his enemy.

The Ronin drew his off-hand sword, Komakai Eki. The sword was the spoils of victory, and complemented Haiiro-rein almost perfectly. It was as though the swords were destined to be carried in tandem. With his left hand he pulled the sword from it's sheath on his right hip, the blade slipping from the saya with scarcely a whisper.

The weapon was kept in a backhand hold, the edge pointed at his opponent as Kurayami leveled the blade horizontally across his chest. It was to be the defensive sword in his assault, and as such would work magnificiently. Using a standard grip on his main sword, The Reikoku fell into a stance the he too had created. With a shuffling step he moved his left leg forward, at the same time twisting Haiiro-rein into an awkard low guard hold, the weapon directed at the ground near Kurayami's right leg.

He hesitated not a moment before pressing the assault. Using advancing footwork, Kura moved ahead. Having already exchanged blows with the man, Kurayami had an idea of what elements the man was unconciously using in the battle. His foe was mostly relying on a combination of water and earth. He was fluid, but at the same time he held his ground. It was an interesting mix, but not something the Ronin couldn't handle.

In response to this Kurayami used the style corresponding to the most favorable elements for an attack, flame and water. He would attack mercilessly as an inferno does, evaporating the man's fluid movements. But at the same time Kurayami was also moving as the water does, penetrating the man's guard as the tide works it's way into the shore. He put those concepts into action.

Haiiro-rein was brought upward diagonally, toward the man's midsection. The peculiar way the man was holding his swords seemed to indicate a loose form of a high guard, which offered excellent protection from attacks all around. However it lacked the necessary speed required to continue on the defense for long. The tip of The Reikoku's sword flashed upward in a whining noise, as he attempted to cut first the man's left leg, and then his torso.

Meanwhile he used advancing evasive footwork, working himself toward his opponent's right side. His defensive sword was held tightly in front of his chest, prepared for any immediate counter attack the man would attempt. As he kept his guard up, moving as quickly as river rapids, he pressed the attack.

Immediately following his upward diagonal strike, Kurayami shifted his grip on Haiiro-rein, and changed the trajectory of his attack. After sidling to the man's right side, he directed the tip of his sword toward Ketsurui's throat, in attempt to slice it clean open. The speed at which he had changed his stance and grip, and the fact that he had kept his own sword between both of the mans would make it difficult to get one of the hook blades between Haiiro-rein and it's intended target. That was the purpose for keeping the weapon inside the man's easiest zone to block with one sword, so that he would have to chose which weapon he would parry with.

As Ketsurui chose, Kurayami moved. He came in fast using advancing direct footwork, turning his defensive sword into an offensive one. He aimed the edge of Komakai Eki at the other side of the man's neck, hoping for a deep cut even though it wouldn't do as much damage. If his opponent had chosen to block Haiiro-rein with the weapon in his left hand, he would have little trouble parrying The Reikoku's follow-up strike with his other sword. However, if he had committed the sword in his right hand to the first block, he would find it much more difficult to get a sword around quick enough to block the attack by Kurayami's wakizashi.

Kurayami's attack didn't offer much room for defensive sword placement, but the attack should have put his foe enough off balance to enable Kurayami enough time to do so as Ketsurui prepared to attack.

[Anomaly]

The stance serves a simple purpose. It focuses the mind while relaxing the body, allowing for a tensity of spirit but not of body. As such, a skilled fighter can absorb damage while reacting with split second manuevers of his own. As the mantis preys or the tiger strikes, it is much the same as the coiling of a spring. This is the calm before the storm, the silencing of insects before the earthquake. The time of gods.

So it is, when Reikoku charges, not a muscle twitches in the old mans body. With the first low, diagonal swipe, both hook swords sweep down and catch the blade with an X shaped guard. The Haiiro-rein is trapped only momentarily, however, as a follow up strike is directed at Ketsurui's neck. This is easily blocked by the crescent guard of his hook sword, moved gently to intercept. The same can be said of the next, similar assault.

During the entire exchange not a flicker of emotion crossed the Bloody Tears face. Only the minimum of effort was expended for the maximum effect. Standing with swords locked, Ketsurui leans gently forward.

"And you never will again."

Reikoku had unwittingly left himself extremely open. With a gently flick of his wrists, Ketsurui thrusts the hooks of his swords beneath the plate armor protecting his enemies stomach. Still using the crescent guard of his hook swords to hold his enemies weapons in check and his armor open the old man delivers a swift kick to the Ruthless stomach. In almost the same motion, he pushes hard on his enemies swords, breaking the lock and hopefully knocking his enemy over onto the stones.

Leaping backwards away from the bird bath the old man fades into the shadows beneath one of the gardens trees. Hidden from the moon light, there is a soft sigh in the high bows of the trees as Ketsurui uses his hook swords to pull himself up into their branches. His soft leather shoes allow him to grip the branches beneath his feet while he guides himself through their spreading canopy. Thin branches that would normally snap under his weight bear him anyways as he moves swiftly towards the over hanging hoof near the corner the little garden occupied.

Again his leather shoes aid the old man as he alights upon the tiled first story roof over the kitchen where he first entered the courtyard. He moves quiet as a cat, using the tree as cover so that has enemy cannot as yet see him. Working quickly, he combines the two hook swords and slips them into a sheath hidden on his back. Carefully, and slower than a normal person would've been able to, he removes his long segmented chain from around his waist without making so much as a clink. Wrapping the weighted end of the chain around his left arm, he grips the bulk of its length in his right hand and begins to creep along the roof.

The full moon is his greatest enemy now. Though the infrequent clouds made its gleam hazy, it also made it almost ever present. It moved steadily to its setting in the west, but not fast enough to be of any help at the moment. He keeps well under the eaves of the second story and in their shadow as he creeps along the north wall, well out of the breeze so that no tell tale movement of hair or cloth would give away his position anymore than the play of moonlight might already. He was hoping his enemy would be looking for him on the ground, or would've assumed he had retreated into the house. The trees certainly wouldn't be the first choice of a regular swordsman, and defiently not the roof.

Circling around slowly, he comes within striking distance of his enemy. A poisoned needle might reliabley be employed at this point to end the battle, but if the Ruthless suspected anything, his guard would be up for that weapon. Besides the lighting and the fact he was heavily armored made such an assault risk. Better to trust in the armor and weapon breaking strength of a snap of his lightning fast segmented chain.

His enemy is facing the other way. Stepping out onto the very edge of the roof, he can insure a powerful strike. Softly, without making a sound, he spins the sharpened end of his chain once, and then lets it fly through the air like a bolt of lightning from the gods. Right before it would make contact, he jerks back hard with his left arm, snaping the chain with enough precision to scythe open his enemies skull...or shatter a sword.

[Overdriven]

Defying most logic and technique, and in an impressive manner, Kurayami's foe managed to guard against his assault. Both of The Reikoku's swords were pinned against the hook swords, and they were face to face.

"And you never will again."

The man spoke boldly, though his words meant absolutely nothing to Kurayami. Kurayami had expected an attack, and knew where it would be aimed as his breastplate was pulled forward. The man was going for his stomach, the lower abdomen. As both of his foes hands were engaged, he didn't need to worry about his pins. Only his legs, which were hardly a theat at all.

Kurayami planted his rear foot harder into the stone ground, preparing to soak the damage. At the same time he moved his body backward, anticipating the blow. It came right on schedule, the man's foot hitting Kurayami's body roughly. The Reikoku had flexed his stomach muscles before the impact, taking the blow with barely more than a dull pain. In the same instant Ketsurui pushed off of him, attempting to put some distance between them. Kurayami kept a strong enough base with his rear leg to stay up, though the shove did slide him back a bit.

The man leapt back into the shadows, out of sight but still within the battle area. Kurayami narrowed his eyes, unable to discern the man's shadows from those around him. There were several ways that Ketsurui could escape. He could enter the building once more, which was unlikely. He would have wanted Kurayami to see him go inside, and would have prepared an ambush, as futile as it may have been, inside. No, he had most likely opted to remain in the outdoors. Perhaps in the trees, or the roof of the house. The man fought in ways similar to the Ninja, or so Kurayami had noticed. Perhaps in his land he was a different form of one. This fact led The Reikoku to believe that he very well might have taken to the shadows of the large tree's canopy. It is what Kurayami's allies would have done.

Even if he knew where the man was, however, Kurayami could not see him. Glancing to his left and right, The Reikoku took note once more of the torches on the walls, and smiled slightly in the moonlight. He silently sheathed Komakai Eki, walking briskly toward the torches. He didn't worry about an attack, for he feared no man, even if the man was so without honor as to strike his back. Kura snatched the torch from it's housing, striding confidently back to the center of the courtyard.

He wasted not a moment before throwing the torch at the base of the tree in which his enemy had fled. He would burn it into kindling, lighting the battlefield enough for him to spot his opponent. The tree would burn hot, but save a few stray branches, was not close enough to do serious damage to the house proper. He had been told not to destroy the entire complex, as tempting as it might have been, and he would abide by that rule. The winds were also in his favor, for they would blow the smoke and flames away from the closest area of the house, but away from the center of the courtyard as well.

Kurayami stood stock still in the center of the compl