2006 TOA R1: T.G. Oskar v. psiko

[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.

[T.G. Oskar]

At last, the fight had started. Shotaro had waited since very early on his room, until the attendant had requested his assistance. His eyes closed, his hands tied up in prayer, the beads tying his hand and extending all the way to his arm. Upon entering, Shotaro clenched his fists, a fine powder in his right hand, his beads on his left. Night was not his favored environment: his days as a samurai, and the tragic memory of his past haunted him. The uneasiness was noticeable as he stood at steps from his opponent. He untied his long traveling coat and removed his hat, revealing a light breastplate. In his back, a pair of blades, tied up to the tsuba, were positioned awkwardly. Any knowledgeable swordsman would know that position was unfit for proper drawing, yet it seemed the blades would not be used. Shotaro set the traveling clothing aside, and spread the fine powder on the field, in a crescent motion from right to left, while uttering a simple prayer. By spreading salt, Shotaro hoped no source other than his opponent would influence the combat.

Cleaning his hands from the little salt he had in his hand, he crossed his arms, saluted his opponent, and readied into a sideway stance, his prayer beads wrapping his right hand, the tie that bound the beads close to his fingers. His left leg was in front of his right leg, his left arm open, all fingers except thumb extended, while his right arm was close to his head, half clenched. Shotaro's eyes were fixed in the middle part of his opponent's body, ready to counter his next move...

[Psiko]

"My shoulder! Aaaagh!" Ryang shouts as his naginata drops to the ground. He clutches his left shoulder as the pain brings him to his knees. Despite the stitching and poultices applied to the wound, the cut does not heal. The skin surrounding the wound is swollen and severely discolored. All the healers he has seen have claimed that it is merely infected. Still, it should be getting better as time passes, not getting worse. He could use his polearm in combat yesterday. But not today. Something is wrong.

The tournament is in two days. His shoulder will not be healed in time, that is certain now. A weakness for his opponent to exploit. How much worse will he be in two days? Will he be forced to forfeit? No. Anything is better than having to suffer that dishonor. Ryang throws on a simple white robe and goes for a walk to help clear his mind.

The inner-city is bustling, filled with hordes of people gathering to watch this great tournament. Ryang cuts down a side street to avoid the crowds, heading toward no particular destination. Few peddlers have shops open along the way, most of them have moved toward the main streets to catch unsuspecting tourists. Of the three shops that Ryang passes two of them are scamming customers with good-luck charms that are supposed to increase the chances of their champion's victory in the tournament. The third vendor's cart greets Ryang's nose long before it comes into view. Dried corpses of chicken and fish hang on large skewers surrounding the cart, most of them possessing swarms of insects feeding on rotten flesh. Leaning on a rotting staff is an old man of short stature. His white hair is in frantic disarray, seeming to stick out in random places. He wears nothing but a salmon-colored loincloth that fails to conceal him. His shriveled skin is stretched thin across his bony frame. He flashes a toothless grin at Ryang, who continues to walk past the cart.

"You want to see Yohan," the old man says.

"Excuse me?" Ryang says as he turns back around.

"You want to see Yohan," the old man repeats. "He knows the cure."

"Who is Yohan?"

"Koho senses your suffering, Only Yohan has the answer you seek."

Before Ryang can ask the man where this Yohan can be found, the man points down an alley with his gnarled staff. Ryang glances down the alley and spies a shadowy figure who disappears around a corner. Ryang glances back at the old man, who simply nods. Consumed with curiosity Ryang follows, but after each turn the shadowy figure disappears around another turn. Finally, after passing through more intersections than he thought existed in this city, the man slips into a building. Ryang follows him without hesitation. He wants answers. And his shoulder is throbbing.

Ryang steps through the doorway, noting that the door itself is missing. Inside are half a dozen wood tables, each one cluttered with various books and vials. Many of the items inside are coated with a thick layer of dust, showing signs of abandonment. To Ryang’s disappointment there is no one inside. The person he followed here is gone. As he turns to leave he notices a scrap of parchment pinned to the entryway with a shuriken. ‘You are poisoned. ~ Yohan’

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Night falls as Ryang prepares for his first battle in the tournament. Those haunting words still echo inside his head. Poison. He should have suspected. His left arm dangles uselessly at his side as he finishes getting dressed. He looks at his naginata leaning against the wall. Tonight his weapon is useless. Like his arm.

The time has come to do battle. Ryang grabs his tachi as he exits the room, hoping this weapon will be enough to allow him to advance. He needs another week to find the antidote. He is wearing simple white robes, not because he wants to but because he is unable to put on anything more complex. He hates to bear arms before the battle begins; however, he would need both arms to unsheathe his sword. He can not do that.

He enters the courtyard from the west wall and finds his opponent already there, waiting for him. The man flashes him a salute and Ryang bows in return. The man stands in a ready stance, awaiting Ryang’s first move. He tightens his grip on his tachi and darts across the courtyard, the moonlight shining on his face as he approaches his opponent. As he draws near Shotaro tenses reflexively, preparing to counter his attack. The pain pulsing in Ryang’s shoulder reminds him of his lost power, and at the last moment he changes his plan. Instead of a sweeping strike Ryang slides past Shotaro, the grains of salt rubbing coarsely into his back as he skids by his opponent. As he passes Shotaro, Ryang extends his sword in an attempt to take the man’s legs out from under him.

[T.G. Oskar]

When Shotaro saw his opponent, his blade held on his arm unsheathed, he knew he wanted to end the fight quickly. His opponent was fiercely determined to finish him. His opponent bowed back, seemingly to answer back the salute, but with no intention. He had loose robes, a small tachi fiercely gripped, and darts flowing from his fingers, like claws of a tiger. But the most striking aspect he noticed...

His left arm...was like dead...motionless...

Shotaro, focused on his opponent's next move, couldn't help but realize his left arm could have forced him to end his battle faster. A worthy opponent, to face him in such a condition. Attacking his left arm would serve useful, but neutralizing his right arm would serve much better. His opponent rushed upon him, seemingly to strike him in one swift blow. His move was reminiscent of Iaijutsu, but with his sword already drawn. He tensed, his right arm ready to grab his right arm while sending him to the ground.

But...in the blink of an eye, and right after seeing his enemy barely flinch, as if a sting of pain struck him, he saw him sliding, as if to evade his counterattack. He must have seen through his move. Passing through Shotaro, his opponent intends to execute his move, with his legs as the target. Evading would have been hard, complicated, and would set him in an uncomfortable position to strike back.

Shotaro, then, spinned his stance, sliding his right leg while turning in a 90 degree angle to the right. His arms followed suit, making a mirror image of his former stance. His right leg, however, moved as if he was kicking. If he struck correctly, his leg would hit his opponent's right arm, blocking the move from source, and possibly forcing to disarm.

[Psiko]

Ryang's abrupt shift in attack clearly disrupts Shotaro's plan of action. In what appears to be an act forced by indecision, Shotaro spins slightly and kicks Ryang's arm as the sword draws near. Most men would have moved aside and let the sliding attack fall into nothingness. Ryang expected that. Not this. His tachi comes free from his grasp and clatters across the courtyard, clanging into the wall. Laying on his back beneath his opponent, totally disarmed with a gimpy arm, Ryang can't help but let out a short stream of profanities as he attempts to get back onto his feet.

Before he has time to react his opponent unleashes a quick punch that lands on Ryang's injured shoulder, causing him to scream out from the pain. He hadn't expected things to happen like this. Unarmed against an expert in hand-to-hand combat. Ryang dodges the next flurry of blows sent his way but knows this cannot last. His weakness is too easy to exploit. He has to change the conditions of the battle. He has to withdraw.

Ryang begins to walk backwards, still frantically avoiding the karate attacks presented by his opponent. Slowly they make their way toward the west wall, where Ryang can escape into the common area. Ryang prepares to trip Shotaro in order to escape; however, his opponent trips on a rather large, smooth, polished stone instead. Ryang capitalizes instantly, retreating into the first common room. Moments later he hears footsteps approaching and knows he needs to think fast.

His eyes scan the room, searching for something that could be useful. An idea forms quickly in his mind, and he wastes no time putting it into action. Gritting his teeth against the pain he tears a tapestry free from the wall and tosses it over to where Shotaro should be appearing any moment now, hoping to obscure his view and distract him long enough to strike. Grabbing a vase from a pedestal in the room, he swings with all his might at Shotaro's skull in an attempt to render his foe unconcious.

[T.G. Oskar]

Shotaro's strategy worked: his opponent was disarmed, and frantically running away from the strikes following the block. In hot persecution, Shotaro ran after him, only to trip on a polished stone attempting to jump and slide over it, due to the daisho on his back. After recovering from the trip, Shotaro proceeded to hunt down the crippled warrior, watching his steps looking for any unexpected drop he might have left. He follows him to a small room, where his opponent hid, apparently scared.

All of a sudden, a cloth is dropped upon him, in an attempt to obscure his vision and hinder his progress. Effectively, the next blow of his opponent, done with a solid object that shattered on contact. The blow stunned Shotaro long enough, and caused him to bleed, yet not profusively. The tapestry absorbed the blow, which reduced the damage: either way, after he removed the tapestry, his opponent had disappeared, probably escaped, or into hiding. He removed the tapestry, reflexively, in the direction from which the blow emerged, only to find nothing. Loose dust had showed him where he had gone.

Shotaro knew that his way to victory lied upon carefully placed impacts, rather than blind blows. He calmed down, knowing that a blind persecution would not be useful to him, and would benefit his opponent. Grabbing a vase, he calmly walks away, right into the polished stone, away into the birdbath. Slowly, he fills the vase with water, and then proceeds to fill it with the soil that had the salt on it. Enough, to produce mud...slippery mud.

He returns to the polished stone, and breaks the vase in the process. He skips into the stone, intentionally forcing a slip, skidding. The situation, for a normal person, would give advantage to his opponent. But for Shotaro, accustomed to use the strength of his opponents against them, and abusing of Jujitsu to achieve the goal, probably not.

He expected his opponent to await him, to force a trip, or to hit him with his blade. If he had just a chance to grab an arm, or a leg, he would slam him into the ground, and fiercely grab his right arm, in an attempt to break it...

[Psiko]

CRASH!

The vase connects with Shotaro's skull, stunning the man long enough for Ryang to retreat further inside the common area. So far the idea of ambush is playing out in his favor. The odds have swung in his favor now. Ryang does not look back to see if he is followed, his mind is focused on planning the next attack. He enters the next room and looks around, his eyes scanning the objects for the next useful weapon available. In the center of this room on individual pillars are miniaturized statues of former tournament champions, the details flawlessly chiseled into delicate stone. Ryang hesitates to use such fine craftsmanship but, when he hears the muffled sound of footsteps behind him, he makes up his mind.

He grabs the statuette of Kara and presses himself against the wall to the left of the doorway. Ryang raises the marble object overhead as a shadow appears on the floor. As the figure begins to come into view Ryang brings the statue crashing down upon the man's skull. The stone shatters upon impact, chunks of marble flying in every direction. The man slumps to the ground, his skull bashed in. Blood stains the delicate carpet upon the floor as Ryang notices that something is wrong.

This man is not Shotaro!

Ryang frowns as he quickly looks around to see if anyone noticed what just occurred. Seeing nobody in the surrounding area, Ryang drags the man to the corner and tosses a hideously ugly tapestry over the corpse. The material soaks up the blood immediately, forever ruining the delicate work of art.

"Hey, you! What are you doing?" a voice calls out. Ryang looks to the left and sees a small patrol of guards standing in the hallway, unsheathing their katanas as they hurry down the hall. Ryang curses as he leaves the room, heading back out toward the main courtyard. Instead of heading outside, Ryang hopes to lose the pursuit by heading upstairs to the bedrooms. He opens the first door and starts to step inside, but stops abruptly. He pulls the door shut as the half-naked woman inside shouts for the guards.

He tries his luck in the next room as the sound of heavy footsteps reaches his ears again. The guards are getting closer with each passing second. He shuts the door as silently as possible and is relieved to see that this room is vacant at the moment. He sifts through the clothing in the room, but is disappointed to find that it is all women's apparel. Still, he needs some sort of disguise to get past the guards, whom he can hear outside in the hall. Probably talking to the woman. Ryang smiles for the first time in a while as he comes across a dark-haired wig among the possessions in the room. He departs from the room, a wig atop his shaved head and dressed in a pink yukata with a red rose pattern on it.

He heads straight toward the stairs, slipping past the guards unnoticed. None of them suspect that he was the one they saw earlier. Ryang enters the courtyard, still in disguise, and spots Shotaro starting to slip in some mud. His attention is distracted suddenly by a large crow flying away with Ryang's lost tachi. Ryang quickly grabs a stone and throws it at the bird, hitting it right as it passes over Shotaro. The bird drops the sword and flies away quickly. The tachi falls to the ground, the blade aimed downward as it nears Shotaro. If he fails to move, it will impale the man.

[T.G. Oskar]

For a long time since his training, Shotaro had developed a sense of patience against the expected, and the unexpected. He had waited for his opponent to appear, ready to ambush him. A black bird, a raven, flew by the area, perhaps sensing the smell of death in the air. Surely, death was not in his mind: the Tournament forbid assasination. A grim signal, indeed, was the raven's appearance.

The raven, then, flew to his opponent's abandoned blade, and grabbed it. That sole moment was clue to indicate Shotaro that something was wrong. Why would a raven grab a blade left thrown? A carrion feeder, a messenger of death as he had heard while on his travels, holding a tool of death? Eerily fitting...but still weird. The raven served enough as a distraction, enough to make him mis the servant walking through. All of a sudden, the bird was struck by a stone, making it fly away and drop the blade in a direct angle toward him.

Shotaro slid from the stone, in an attempt to evade the falling weapon. But, simply an evasion would not suffice. As he reached the ground, he swiftly extended his prayer beads, threw them into the blade, and pulled it into himself. Then, he grabbed the sword, having pulled it near him, stuck in the ground. The small weapon was well-balanced, fit for assassins who wanted a clean and effective job done. But, Shotaro had no need for that. The bird as well far away, but at a prudent distance. He would throw the sword at the bird, but he kept it anyways. He would dispose of it later, or return it to its owner.

A group of guards neared the area, seemingly looking for someone. As they saw Shotaro, they immediately charged, weapons rushed forward. As fast as they appeared, they were neutralized by Shotaro's jujitsu knowledge. The guards, after an apology for mistaking him for someone else, asked him if he saw a man passing by. The description fit exactly his opponent, yet he knew nothing ever since he was struck by the vase. After explaining that to the guards, they left, not before Shotaro gave them the tachi he had found. A final question revealed that a servant was close by, with a pink dress. No doubt: it must be him, or a very skilled assassin bent into disrupting the Tournament. He wanted the battle to end: many questions were in his mind. Shotaro then moved around the courtyard, his prayer beads extended. If he met someone, he would trip it with his beads, pull it, and submit it. Perhaps he would find his opponent, or who wanted to alter the results...

[Psiko]

Ryang watches the guards walk past him once again, failing for the second time to recognize him. They approach Shotaro who, by some stroke of luck, noticed the falling sword in time. Ryang slips unnoticed back into the building as Shotaro wards off the men with some Jujitsu, his knowledge of it beating them into submission. Ryang doesn't stay long enough to see all the details. Instead he returns to the bloody corpse, removing a slightly-rusted katana from the dead man's possession.

Ryang covers the man back up and heads back to the courtyard, taking an alternate route back to where his opponent is waiting. As he reenters the battlefield he notices the guards heading back inside, bloody and bruised and carrying his tachi. Good thing he stole that katana! Although Shotaro does not show it, Ryang is sure the man sees through the disguise. Shotaro casually walks around the courtyard, dragging his beads behind him as he moves. As the man draws near Ryang leaps over the beads, landing gracefully. He charges in, katana raised overhead.

Ryang brings the sword down in a powerful slash, but Shotaro was ready! The man dodges the blow, tripping Ryang with the beads. Ryang lands hard on his injured shoulder, the pain pulsing through his body as he cries out. Shotaro kicks at his face, but Ryang manages to roll backward in time to avoid the blow. The beads whip out again as Ryang attempts to get to his feet, and this time Ryang leaps over the sweep. Shotaro expertly snaps the beads back, cracking them into Ryang's skull. Ryang blinks several times as he attempts to regain his senses after the shocking blow.

Ryang moves in to press an attack, but Shotaro backpedals to avoid the close encounter. After all, Ryang is armed once more. Shotaro whips his beads again, but this time Ryang has the sense to duck. He moves in swiftly to strike a fatal blow but, before he can, the wind picks up slightly in velocity and blows the wig off his head. The fake hair obstructs his vision enough that the attack is off-target, missing Shotaro by mere inches. His opponent capitalizes on the distraction and kicks him in the jaw, sending Ryang reeling back out of sword range.

Blood drips from Ryang's mouth, splattering on the ground below. Shotaro displays his expertise with the beads once more, whipping them so they wrap around Ryang's neck. Ryang gasps for air as he attempts to cut through, but the prayer beads repel the blow. Shotaro yanks on the beads, forcing Ryang to be led like a dog on a leash. He gets pulled in and pummeled by several swift attacks, then pushed back as the oxygen level continues to deplete. His face begins to redden as the wood beads tighten around his throat, digging into his skin. He can't hold on much longer.

Shotaro begins to wrap the string of beads around his arm, tightening the hold by reducing the slack. Luckily for Ryang, this also brings him into range of the katana. He stabs at Shotaro's shoulder, hoping to gain enough ground to escape the stranglehold. Success! The beads loosen just enough for Ryang to manage to slip free, gasping for air. Shotaro wastes no time, moving in for a few quick strikes while Ryang attempts to recover.

Ryang cuts off his approach with a hasty slash that misses widely but makes Shotaro back away. Ryang continues the momentum, backing Shotaro into the center of the courtyard. Shotaro runs into the birdbath, his slow retreat brought to an end by the large monument. Ryang puts all his might into a massive overhead slash with his good arm, but Shotaro slips away. The katana hits the stone, shattering into fragments of rusted metal that scrape Ryang's skin in a few dozen places. Shotaro backs away further as Ryang wields an empty hilt.

Ryang tosses the hilt aside as he avoids another cracking blow from the beads. Tired of having a reach disadvantage, Ryang tears the yukata off, intending to use the clothing as a weapon. He dodges another attack and darts behind Shotaro, tossing the yukata over Shotaro's head while maintaing hold on both ends of it. If Shotaro is caught by the yukata, Ryang intends to strangle his foe in return, repaying the favor. If it fails, he'll be at his opponent's mercy once more.

[T.G. Oskar]

By skill or by fortune, Shotaro found finally his target: the "servant" he was following turned out to be him in disguise. This sole fact made him realize that he was skilled in the art of disguise, for the clothing and the actions were good enough to hide him. The beads given to him by his fellow monk brother Tse Tung became a truly effective weapon: not only were they perfect for tripping, they also served as an excellent whip, and a useful defensive tool. Quite an use for a prayer counter.

Yet...he was wounded, and hindered. The stab to his right shoulder reduced his strength, and the pain tingled in his nerves. His opponent was fighting fiercely, perhaps too fierce enough, despite how incapable of landing blows he was. The battle had dragged long enough to reveal one of his secret weapons early on: now, everyone would know many of his tactics. And he was pushed to reveal his other secret.

His opponent, in a fierce rage, had shattered the tachi. Yet, he had proved to be ever-resourceful: he had another weapon in his hands. Or better said, his body: he removed his yukata, and used it in the same way he had used his beads; in an attempt to bind him, or strangle him. And, seeing how the improvised rope neared, he remembered that grace and style were as effective a weapon as lance and blade. And who more graceful and stylish as a bird?

Shotaro, while stout and heavy, still was capable of sliding his right leg while bending his left knee, arms extended in a V position. He dodged the clothing by entering Phoenix stance of gung-fu, a position that placed its executer on difficulties if not skilled enough...

Well, Shotaro thought he dodged the blow, but the clothing wrapped his left hand, and he felt a yank pulling him towards his opponent. He let himself get dragged, as the water flows without resisting the current. He even leapt towards his opponent, so the pull had its maximum effectiveness. He would be dragged towards him, but not in a disadvantage. His left knee was still bent, and facing his opponent.

His course of action was clear: he had to feint. He had to make his opponent believe he would strike his face, but he would really strike his neck, by extending his leg like a mace. If he hit, he would follow by striking with his right leg, and then land gracefully, like the graceful birds landing after a flight.

[LocoColt04]

Okay, congratulations, everyone. These first rounds, overall, were quite impressive. Judgement will come within the next three days, and the second round will start at that time. So, if you would please, just keep an eye on your threads, and the second round will start later this week!