Thread: The Age of War (DudeMeister and Evette)

A warm glow emanated from the fuse, his breath brushing against the treated cord to keep it lit. Toranosuke felt the stones shift beneath his feet once he squeezed, the violent kick of the butt of the harquebus preceding the deafening explosion. The propelled ball collided with the target fifty feet away, causing the bits of straw to spray rampantly as the d seemed to implode at the force of the teppo the seasoned warrior had just fired. Yamasaki Toranosuke had seen much on the battlefield in his years of service to Honda Tadakatsu, renown general for Tokugawa Ieyasu. His martial prowess would eventually contribute to the legend of his master's invincibility, having served as his bodyguard in many campaigns for the past few years. He was of average height but with an imposing presence nonetheless, his shoulders were broad and his forearms were sinewy from years of training in the military arts. He wore his hair in the typical chonmage, save for an unshaven pate. His eyes were focused and stern like a hawk's, as able to read people as they were able to strike fear into an adversary when gazing through kabuto and mempo. A long scar from the beginning of his career spanned diagonally across his face, however other than that souvenir he wasn't maimed further than that. As a samurai of modest beginnings, Toranosuke rose to his current station through valor and loyalty. Despite his accomplishments with sword and spear, a great marksman he was not. He could never pull a strong bow or fire an arrow accurately, yet after only three days of enduring the stench of black powder he was able to hit his mark at a farther distance than he ever could with the bow. There was much debate amongst his peers over the usefulness of the barbarian's armaments, but he had to test the weapon for himself. What he saw looked like the beginning of the end for his way of life...if only they could be fired in rapid succession. Hearing rapidly approaching footsteps, he exchanged the gun for his prized blade from his page, undoing the cords of his red jingasa that bore the same scorch marks as the white training kimono he wore from his morning's marksmanship training just in time to receive the messenger's dispatches. --------- Tora-san, I've been told you've recently taken to the tanegashima . What are your thoughts concerning its use? Toranosuke managed to bathe and don more formal attire. Wearing a dark green kimono and grey hakama, his kataginu bore the emblem of the Honda clan. Expecting to be called to his shift as his lord presided over courtly matters of the day, he instead found himself seated in the formal seiza position outside the shoji of his master's study, his sword resting beside his right knee with the curve of it's edge facing it. After a moment of deliberation, the battler spoke. Dono, I feel I'm not gifted enough in strategy to comment on its function on the battlefield, but I'm sure those more qualified than I can see its merit he replied. His ears heard the shaft of his master's quill click slightly against the writing desk, the subtle creak in the floor as he stood and the brushing of the tabi against the tatami as he walked out of the room. Lowering his head reverently, he backed away as his lord emerged and stared out into the garden surrounding the structure that served as his quarters. His eyes leveled to him as he saw him stand there thoughtfully. Having swapped his armor and trademark antlered kabuto for bright silken garb, the lord looked quite different from his earlier distinction at Anegawa. You sell yourself short Tora-san. Nobunaga-san used these arms to great affect only recently. You were there were you not? Tadakatsu said, smiling slightly as he turned to his bodyguard. On to business then I've just received word from Ieyasu-san summoning us to a war council. Can I trust you to help with the preparations? Yes tono . Do you know why we were summoned? Toranosuke inquired. Perhaps something to do with our lord's recent change in allegiance. Takeda Shingen is not someone easily scorned after all