Thread: The Age of War (DudeMeister and Evette)

In the two weeks leading up to the Honda clan's hospitality of the retinues of both Oda Nobunaga and Tokugawa Ieyasu, the infamous Tiger of Sawara saw little sleep. Although a war council was expected amongst those attending, it would reflect poorly upon the Honda clan if they didn't receive the great lords with all the pomp and ceremony that was expected. Thus the duties of resource management and event planning were added on the already daunting task of security management. Rice was collected from the domain, as was pickled vegetables, miso, fish and salt. Chefs well practiced in their arts were retained to prepare the feasts meant to satisfy their guests' pallets. Toranosuke had even gone through great lengths to procure goods from Nagasaki meats preserved in salt imported from Ryukyu and even red western sake that Nobunaga-sama was reputed to have developed a taste for. Arrangements were as well made to have entertainers of many arts brought to Honda castle. Geishas, artisans and poets lauded in the Imperial court were invited. All of it was very tedious and time consuming. And expensive... The dark bags beneath his eyes certainly made him look sullen, but he presented himself admirably as he welcomed their guests at the main gate of Honda Castle. Simple in the manner of his attire, he wore a formal outfit comprised of kimono, hakama and kataginu. His daisho bore simple black fittings, save for the faded cotton of the tsuka-ito, the corded wrappings of the hilt of his blades often gripped in both practice and mortal conflict. He had received Nobunaga-sama and his vast entourage first. The famed warlord of Owari was garbed in high quality vestments slightly dusted and worn from travel, save for a foreign jingasa of black cloth that was ornamented with a peculiar feather. The beads he wore around his neck held a talisman he only heard of, a crucifix with special significance for the religious sect followed by most foreigners that found themselves on their shores. Kirishitans he believed they were called. Bowing formally as he allowed them to pass, he caught site of the foreigners clad all in black, the most diminutive of them surpassing him in height but lacking athletic vigor. He heard only bits of information about the lands of the far west. Men who fought on both land and sea, who traded with the lands previously under the domain of the feared Kublai Khan, the great tyrant that the great kami punished with their divine typhoon. In their distant past men quite like him fought in their wars of resource or faith soldiers clad fully in luminous steel upon great steeds of war who subscribed to a code much like their own. The men who accompanied Nobunaga-sama didn't evoke such awe inspiring imagery. There seemed to be base cunning in their cautious dealings, inspired by their will to survive in this land and their obsessive need to clutch their books bound in leather. Tokugawa Ieyasu-sama, it is my supreme privilege to welcome you to this estate. Please permit me the honor of escorting you and your retinue to your accommodations he recited when the time came. The warlord returned the courtesy with a nod as from his seat upon his horse as another samurai lead a detachment of spearmen through the gates. Toranoske didn't know who the man was, but his movements were cautious and his body language lacked ostentation. He stood at a minimum of ten feet from him at all times, bearing himself in profile and facing him with his weapon side. The way he appraised Toranosuke and the way his hand rested near the tsuba of his sword showed the situational awareness of one experienced in combat. His accent marked him as a man from Satsuma as he gave out orders, shoulders often rolling as if unaccustomed to the lightness of silken garb alone. Whoever he was he was deadly and as a man of possibly forty years he lived quite long in a career where most die young and abruptly. Although they were all allies today, Toranosuke imprinted that samurai in particular. He mentally noted to himself to make the proper introduction to learn the man's identity. One never knew what allies were best to make...or who to be wary of should bonds of camaraderie were broken and dangerous men were once again forced to face one another on the battlefield. Perhaps it was this that weighed on his mind that night as the preparations culminated in the grand feast, or maybe it was the woman's well practiced and light step that caused the brief collision. His brief reaction to aid her dissipated as she collected herself quickly. He stepped back to reestablish a proper distance between them as he heard her apology. Her tone was polite. Her hair was worn in an immaculate coiffure, white makeup applied to her face, and her lips were the lustful red that men often got lost in. Seeing the beauty before him he smirked slightly, briefly smoothing out the front of his attire as he chuckled softly. My apologies, the fault is shared on my part. I hope I haven't caused any inconvenience. Are you scheduled to perform for the lords this evening? he inquired