Post by A fortuitous Meeting on Jun 15, 2005 6:28:29 GMT -5
A Fortuitous Meeting
His father, Makinn-re (the White Warrior) was a very devout man and named him after the religion of his devotion. Shinto had always been a clever child and had taken quickly to an array of weapons. It was not a surprise. His father ran one of the warrior training academies in Homare-Jima before emperor Hanzagiri (the evil emperor of Tokuno) took the land. Shinto learned the ways of battle and tactics from his father, along with the use of deadly employment of the fencing skill. He was best when he was alone or with a small group. It was in these times that a great skill that lied asleep in him would begin to waken. Shinto’s father died in battle before he became a man and he took to various mercenary tasks to support his family. One day, he’d heard of a plot to kill the king but before he could do anything about it, the supposed assassin was dead. He knew of the place where the king would be found and when he arrived, he saw one of the most amazing sights of his life. He watched first with horror, and then amusement, as another warrior exposed the plot and engaged the traitor leaving him paralyzed for the King to exact his justice. This all happened in what seemed like the blink of an eye. The man had come out of nowhere and then it was done.
Shinto tried to shadow the man to see who he was, but he was not skilled like this man. Rounding a turn in the road, he lost sight of the man and began to hurry. About that time, he felt something around his legs that bound them and sent him stumbling to the ground. As he turned to see who it was, he instead saw the gleam of two sharp blades. He knew this weapon to be a Kama; one in which, he too, was exceptional, when he was not tripped and lying on the ground.
Shinto looked at the man. Both men possessed the same grim determination and fearlessness and it came out in their eyes. “Who are you and why have you been following me, so clumsily, I might add,” demanded the Ninja. “I am Shinto of the Makinn-re chan”, said Shinto. “I saw what you did to the save the King. I have great skill with weapons and the tactics of battle but I do not have what you have. It is that which I seek”.
The Ninja seemed to relax a bit and said, “Ah, I know of the great White Warrior. But for him to have a son that is not able to even quietly follow a prey…this is truly a puzzle”. Shinto had noticed the Ninja relax and decided his moment had come. As the stinging words of the Ninja came upon the air, Shinto moved and in a single sweep of his hand, pulled a dagger from his waste, kicked up and cut the bolas through, and arched over and away from the Ninja, landing on his feet in his fighting stance.
The Ninja looked puzzled and then amused. “Perhaps I have spoken a bit premature,” he said. “Are you showing me you are not the clumsy young one I took you for, or perhaps you were interested in testing that steel?” Shinto knew from experience with his father that listening to such nonsense would only rile his anger. Anger was not the path to victory. “I have no wish to harm you Ninja,” Shinto said, “but while I admire your surprise and prowess in the stealth arts, at this moment, you are but another warrior, are you not? Has your advantage not disappeared?”
“Perhaps that is something we should test, young one,” said the Ninja. “If you are not too tired from your previous fall, perhaps you would like to see if I am a mere warrior.” “Very well then,” Shinto said, “I would suggest three points. We will score a point only if we can create a “tip prick” with our weapons in one of the three critical zones. I assume you are a fencer and that you have sufficient control?” The Ninja smiled under his mask and said “we shall see.” And with that, he began to circle toward Shinto. The Ninja was using a Kama, a nasty weapon indeed with it’s dual blades and small chain. Shinto knew every element of the weapon, it’s speed, it’s clearance for attack, and it’s arc in a swing. Shinto seemed to back away from the Ninja toward the side of the road. The Ninja continued to move forward and began to press the fight. The Ninja was very fast and performed a perfectly executed sweep with the weapon aiming mid-level. Shinto, anticipating the motion, began a side step a fraction before the swing began and used the blunt end of his dagger to come down hard on the handle of the Kama. This forced the Ninja to over-reach and exposed his side to Shinto. Shinto quickly, and simply, created a small incision in the Ninja’s side, just above the 5th rib. “That’s one,” said Shinto. The Ninja stopped and looked at his side. The small hole in his ninja jacket revealed a single drop of blood. “Well done warrior Shinto” said the Ninja. “I just may have found a worthy opponent”.
Shinto smiled “Well great Ninja, I must admit I am partial to a dagger. Perhaps I should even things out.” With that, Shinto replaced his dagger in an unseen sheath and removed a weapon whose points gleamed in the evening moonlight. “Even, eh? I believe that is more effective in use at the dinner table!” The Ninja was impressed with the look of the war fork. “Hmmm, speed for speed then,” the Ninja mused, drawing a kryss from his side. Shinto was already moving. First he backed away from the Ninja and then began to circle. The Kryss is a very fast weapon, part sword, part spear, and part dealer of death. For a moment, Shinto felt unsure of himself but he quickly re-focused his energies on his opponent. He noticed the way the Ninja was holding the weapon and got a slight grin on his face. The Ninja, noticing the grin, said “Ahh, my cocky young friend, do you really think you have me figured out?” Shinto said nothing. He watched as the Ninja began to move forward to within reach of an attack. The two weapons clashed lighting the night with small sparks as the men engaged. The Ninja parried the war fork expertly and had Shinto not already been moving to the side, the tip of the Kryss would has been at his throat. Both moved past each other and reset opposite of each other in fighting stance. This time, Shinto pressed the attack. He again saw the grip of the Ninja on the weapon, noticed its angle, and with a lunge and a turn toward the Ninja, disarmed him; the kryss falling harmlessly out of reach. Shinto took the opportunity of the momentary confusion to launch himself in a sweeping arc over the Ninja. As he passed overhead, he brought one tine of the war fork down early. Shinto landed four feet behind the Ninja. The Ninja turned quickly to face Shinto, his hand coming up to the back of his neck. “I believe that is two, great Ninja, is it not?” said Shinto, clearly pleased with his performance thus far.
The Ninja removed his hand from the back of his neck and his index finger showed that, indeed, the war fork had found it’s home. ‘Two indeed,” said the Ninja retrieving his kryss. “Are you ready then?” Shinto could not tell if the Ninja was getting angry or simply focusing. He figured it would be the latter. This Ninja clearly had talents he had not yet shown and it reminded Shinto to regain his bearing. The two men circled each other. Both men had returned their weapons to the hiding places in their ensemble. Shinto drew a small spear and said “Great Ninja, you are not going to fight me with your bare hands are you?” The Ninja appeared to smile as he drew a dagger from his belt as black as the night. Shinto looked admiringly at the dagger and said, “Ah, you choose well my friend but I fear it will be for naught”. With that, Shinto began to move forward to strike with the spear, clearly having the length advantage over the dagger. As Shinto set for his attack, the Ninja sidestepped and moved away a few paces. As Shinto turned to square up to the Ninja, he saw a blinding flash moving at him with a sound like the rushing of waters. The Ninja was nowhere to be seen. Shinto felt something on his face and reached to touch his cheek. A single drop of blood was on his finger. He turned, sensing the Ninja behind him. The Ninja was a full ten feet away, leaning on a small post. “I believe that is one, young warrior, and if you do not mind, I’d like to move a bit quicker as I have places to be”. Shinto drew his dagger and charged. Smoke surrounded the Ninja as he arrived to deal his blow and the Ninja had disappeared. Shinto executed a perfect roll and moved quickly from the spot scanning the area for the Ninja. Shinto felt something at his side and saw the Ninja rolling away to create a distance between them. Shinto noticed a small cut in his tunic. “Yes, Great Ninja that is two.” Said Shinto. “There shall not be a third”. With that Shinto covered the distance between the two men in what seemed like a blink of an eye. He saw the Ninja with his head slightly bowed and in a superb fighting stance. As he reached within range, he noticed there were two, no three others by him! Shinto quickly recoiled, as he swung at one of the approaching Ninja’s too surprised to do much good. As Shinto pulled back, he forgot the post near him and stumbled over it falling to the ground. He rolled to his side and gained his footing and rose. Shinto then heard more than felt the shuriken graze the side of his hip. The Ninja, who was a full twenty feet away, said softly “three”.
Shinto was amazed and humbled. He had never encountered a Ninja of such skill and cunning as this one. He moved over toward him collecting himself and his bearing. He bowed deeply to the Ninja, “Sir, I am humbled by your display. I deeply apologize if I offended you with my conceited words before. You are truly a Great Ninja”. The Ninja returned the bow. The Ninja said, “I am Shidoshi Takashi, a leader in the Blue Lotus Clan in Makota-Jima. Young one, I have been all over this land and many others. I have yet to find a warrior that equals your skill. Your father has taught you well. If he had not died so long ago, I think you would be a legendary warrior in Homare-jima.” “Fate did not have you on that path it would seem,” said the Ninja. Shinto rose from his bow and mused “You are right Shidoshi Takashi, it is not the path I have been given. I have missed my father and the training I could have gained but I do not regret it.” I would have but one regret in my life,” said Shinto. “What is that?” asked Takashi. “If you would not allow me to study with you in the arts of Ninjitsu… that would be worse than the death of my father: To finally know the path but to be unable to follow it. Shinto again bowed deeply and waited. Takashi said, “Rise Shinto and meet your Shidoshi.” I will train you in these ways and one day we will be brothers. With that, Shidoshi Takashi removed his Ninja Hood as the two men began to walk toward Zento in Makota-Jima.
His father, Makinn-re (the White Warrior) was a very devout man and named him after the religion of his devotion. Shinto had always been a clever child and had taken quickly to an array of weapons. It was not a surprise. His father ran one of the warrior training academies in Homare-Jima before emperor Hanzagiri (the evil emperor of Tokuno) took the land. Shinto learned the ways of battle and tactics from his father, along with the use of deadly employment of the fencing skill. He was best when he was alone or with a small group. It was in these times that a great skill that lied asleep in him would begin to waken. Shinto’s father died in battle before he became a man and he took to various mercenary tasks to support his family. One day, he’d heard of a plot to kill the king but before he could do anything about it, the supposed assassin was dead. He knew of the place where the king would be found and when he arrived, he saw one of the most amazing sights of his life. He watched first with horror, and then amusement, as another warrior exposed the plot and engaged the traitor leaving him paralyzed for the King to exact his justice. This all happened in what seemed like the blink of an eye. The man had come out of nowhere and then it was done.
Shinto tried to shadow the man to see who he was, but he was not skilled like this man. Rounding a turn in the road, he lost sight of the man and began to hurry. About that time, he felt something around his legs that bound them and sent him stumbling to the ground. As he turned to see who it was, he instead saw the gleam of two sharp blades. He knew this weapon to be a Kama; one in which, he too, was exceptional, when he was not tripped and lying on the ground.
Shinto looked at the man. Both men possessed the same grim determination and fearlessness and it came out in their eyes. “Who are you and why have you been following me, so clumsily, I might add,” demanded the Ninja. “I am Shinto of the Makinn-re chan”, said Shinto. “I saw what you did to the save the King. I have great skill with weapons and the tactics of battle but I do not have what you have. It is that which I seek”.
The Ninja seemed to relax a bit and said, “Ah, I know of the great White Warrior. But for him to have a son that is not able to even quietly follow a prey…this is truly a puzzle”. Shinto had noticed the Ninja relax and decided his moment had come. As the stinging words of the Ninja came upon the air, Shinto moved and in a single sweep of his hand, pulled a dagger from his waste, kicked up and cut the bolas through, and arched over and away from the Ninja, landing on his feet in his fighting stance.
The Ninja looked puzzled and then amused. “Perhaps I have spoken a bit premature,” he said. “Are you showing me you are not the clumsy young one I took you for, or perhaps you were interested in testing that steel?” Shinto knew from experience with his father that listening to such nonsense would only rile his anger. Anger was not the path to victory. “I have no wish to harm you Ninja,” Shinto said, “but while I admire your surprise and prowess in the stealth arts, at this moment, you are but another warrior, are you not? Has your advantage not disappeared?”
“Perhaps that is something we should test, young one,” said the Ninja. “If you are not too tired from your previous fall, perhaps you would like to see if I am a mere warrior.” “Very well then,” Shinto said, “I would suggest three points. We will score a point only if we can create a “tip prick” with our weapons in one of the three critical zones. I assume you are a fencer and that you have sufficient control?” The Ninja smiled under his mask and said “we shall see.” And with that, he began to circle toward Shinto. The Ninja was using a Kama, a nasty weapon indeed with it’s dual blades and small chain. Shinto knew every element of the weapon, it’s speed, it’s clearance for attack, and it’s arc in a swing. Shinto seemed to back away from the Ninja toward the side of the road. The Ninja continued to move forward and began to press the fight. The Ninja was very fast and performed a perfectly executed sweep with the weapon aiming mid-level. Shinto, anticipating the motion, began a side step a fraction before the swing began and used the blunt end of his dagger to come down hard on the handle of the Kama. This forced the Ninja to over-reach and exposed his side to Shinto. Shinto quickly, and simply, created a small incision in the Ninja’s side, just above the 5th rib. “That’s one,” said Shinto. The Ninja stopped and looked at his side. The small hole in his ninja jacket revealed a single drop of blood. “Well done warrior Shinto” said the Ninja. “I just may have found a worthy opponent”.
Shinto smiled “Well great Ninja, I must admit I am partial to a dagger. Perhaps I should even things out.” With that, Shinto replaced his dagger in an unseen sheath and removed a weapon whose points gleamed in the evening moonlight. “Even, eh? I believe that is more effective in use at the dinner table!” The Ninja was impressed with the look of the war fork. “Hmmm, speed for speed then,” the Ninja mused, drawing a kryss from his side. Shinto was already moving. First he backed away from the Ninja and then began to circle. The Kryss is a very fast weapon, part sword, part spear, and part dealer of death. For a moment, Shinto felt unsure of himself but he quickly re-focused his energies on his opponent. He noticed the way the Ninja was holding the weapon and got a slight grin on his face. The Ninja, noticing the grin, said “Ahh, my cocky young friend, do you really think you have me figured out?” Shinto said nothing. He watched as the Ninja began to move forward to within reach of an attack. The two weapons clashed lighting the night with small sparks as the men engaged. The Ninja parried the war fork expertly and had Shinto not already been moving to the side, the tip of the Kryss would has been at his throat. Both moved past each other and reset opposite of each other in fighting stance. This time, Shinto pressed the attack. He again saw the grip of the Ninja on the weapon, noticed its angle, and with a lunge and a turn toward the Ninja, disarmed him; the kryss falling harmlessly out of reach. Shinto took the opportunity of the momentary confusion to launch himself in a sweeping arc over the Ninja. As he passed overhead, he brought one tine of the war fork down early. Shinto landed four feet behind the Ninja. The Ninja turned quickly to face Shinto, his hand coming up to the back of his neck. “I believe that is two, great Ninja, is it not?” said Shinto, clearly pleased with his performance thus far.
The Ninja removed his hand from the back of his neck and his index finger showed that, indeed, the war fork had found it’s home. ‘Two indeed,” said the Ninja retrieving his kryss. “Are you ready then?” Shinto could not tell if the Ninja was getting angry or simply focusing. He figured it would be the latter. This Ninja clearly had talents he had not yet shown and it reminded Shinto to regain his bearing. The two men circled each other. Both men had returned their weapons to the hiding places in their ensemble. Shinto drew a small spear and said “Great Ninja, you are not going to fight me with your bare hands are you?” The Ninja appeared to smile as he drew a dagger from his belt as black as the night. Shinto looked admiringly at the dagger and said, “Ah, you choose well my friend but I fear it will be for naught”. With that, Shinto began to move forward to strike with the spear, clearly having the length advantage over the dagger. As Shinto set for his attack, the Ninja sidestepped and moved away a few paces. As Shinto turned to square up to the Ninja, he saw a blinding flash moving at him with a sound like the rushing of waters. The Ninja was nowhere to be seen. Shinto felt something on his face and reached to touch his cheek. A single drop of blood was on his finger. He turned, sensing the Ninja behind him. The Ninja was a full ten feet away, leaning on a small post. “I believe that is one, young warrior, and if you do not mind, I’d like to move a bit quicker as I have places to be”. Shinto drew his dagger and charged. Smoke surrounded the Ninja as he arrived to deal his blow and the Ninja had disappeared. Shinto executed a perfect roll and moved quickly from the spot scanning the area for the Ninja. Shinto felt something at his side and saw the Ninja rolling away to create a distance between them. Shinto noticed a small cut in his tunic. “Yes, Great Ninja that is two.” Said Shinto. “There shall not be a third”. With that Shinto covered the distance between the two men in what seemed like a blink of an eye. He saw the Ninja with his head slightly bowed and in a superb fighting stance. As he reached within range, he noticed there were two, no three others by him! Shinto quickly recoiled, as he swung at one of the approaching Ninja’s too surprised to do much good. As Shinto pulled back, he forgot the post near him and stumbled over it falling to the ground. He rolled to his side and gained his footing and rose. Shinto then heard more than felt the shuriken graze the side of his hip. The Ninja, who was a full twenty feet away, said softly “three”.
Shinto was amazed and humbled. He had never encountered a Ninja of such skill and cunning as this one. He moved over toward him collecting himself and his bearing. He bowed deeply to the Ninja, “Sir, I am humbled by your display. I deeply apologize if I offended you with my conceited words before. You are truly a Great Ninja”. The Ninja returned the bow. The Ninja said, “I am Shidoshi Takashi, a leader in the Blue Lotus Clan in Makota-Jima. Young one, I have been all over this land and many others. I have yet to find a warrior that equals your skill. Your father has taught you well. If he had not died so long ago, I think you would be a legendary warrior in Homare-jima.” “Fate did not have you on that path it would seem,” said the Ninja. Shinto rose from his bow and mused “You are right Shidoshi Takashi, it is not the path I have been given. I have missed my father and the training I could have gained but I do not regret it.” I would have but one regret in my life,” said Shinto. “What is that?” asked Takashi. “If you would not allow me to study with you in the arts of Ninjitsu… that would be worse than the death of my father: To finally know the path but to be unable to follow it. Shinto again bowed deeply and waited. Takashi said, “Rise Shinto and meet your Shidoshi.” I will train you in these ways and one day we will be brothers. With that, Shidoshi Takashi removed his Ninja Hood as the two men began to walk toward Zento in Makota-Jima.