[Graded][KCW] Snow's Fall

User avatar
Nafan~
Posts: 3937
Joined: Sun Dec 19, 2010 7:00 pm
Location: Sydney, Australia

[Graded][KCW] Snow's Fall

Post by Nafan~ » Wed Dec 30, 2015 12:30 am

The sky cleared, permitting the sun to grin down upon the snow below. The frozen land shrunk before it's overwhelming joy; melting with the turning of the seasons. The slush gripped and pulled at the ankles of the men whom walked along the massive column of soldiers. With glacial speed the pair marched proudly in their ghostly garb. The plain white cloth made them one with the land, two shifting shapes in the depleting snow.

Many of the soldiers that watched on had belonged to them, once. They had risen in arms together against a greater foe, and been defeated as surely as spring defeated winter. From those whom had conquered them they had struggled to be free, but it was in vain. Their cold aggression had met a force too bright to freeze, and they had melted away before its might. The soldiers were not to blame, it had been the two's ambition that had doomed all those that had fallen. Their eagerness had made them rash, and left them vulnerable.

The Lord Masataka Murakami and his son, Himaru, approached the square that had been cleared for their surrender. Upon a dais sat the young Lord Kusakabe, his obsidian eyes openly declaring his disgust for the pair. The proud Shogun, Koutarou Kusakabe had never possessed any patience for oath-breakers while he lived; a trait his son had clearly inherited. At his left sat the man who would rule Murakami's seat of power until his younger son came of age, Masataka's own vassal Takatomi. The glistening tracks down his face betrayed his anguish at seeing the fall of his master, though his brow remained stern. To the right was a man known by few, but known of by many. The infamous Banri sat in uncharacteristic finery, with a rich black kimono of silk and his hair regally tied in the manner of samurai. If Murakami held any grudges for his defeat, it was against that man.

The world was still as the sun beat the first heat of spring down upon the thousands that had gathered. The pair had reached the end of their procession, and each knelt before a block of polished white stone. Upon both stones were small knives with bamboo handles. Masataka stared at the knife before him, consumed by anger and frustration at the way he had been manipulated. He raised eyes and head together, meeting the gaze of the boy sitting on the cushion in the centre of the raised platform. Despite the distance, in both space and power, the boy rubbed his thigh to keep his nervousness at bay. That confirmed to the once great Lord of Murakami that it truly was Banri that tied the noose about his neck. He turned his ice-cold glare of pure defiance upon the man in black, but it was met by arrogance and satisfaction. The man was confident in his victory, and indifferent to Murakami's suffering. If he deserved to be called 'man' at all.

Masataka cleared his throat of the bile that had gathered before raising his voice for all to hear, "I, Lord Murakami, Masataka, request of the Lord Kusakabe, Kouichi, the chance to surrender my armies, my life and the life of my eldest son as repentance. Through this rite of sacrifice I ask that my honour be returned to me, so that I may be entombed with my ancestors free of shame. In return I submit to him, completely and totally, and admit my folly in ever taking up arms." he called, announcing to all who could hear him on this quiet day. The sound carried far, and soldiers neither grinned or grimaced at the Lord's surrender regardless of the side they had fought on.

Silence stretched. It blanketed the field for a time. For far too much time. A bead of sweat rolled down Murakami's face despite the wet snow beneath his barely clothed legs. He knew, in those moments of hesitation, what was going to happen. The boy stood, slowly, upon the dais. His steel and lacquer armour clattered as he brought himself to his full height, towering above either man beside him. "Lord Murakami, Masataka, as representative of his Greatness, the Daimyo Hojo, I must humbly decline this request. I must name you oath breaker and traitor to the throne. Let it be known that you are not forgiven your misdeeds." came the reply from the armoured lordling. Murakami glanced wistfully at the knife that lay before him. What had before seemed distasteful was now enticing. He had been stolen the chance to even end his own life and shame. His knuckles became as white as the cloth he wore, as the slush beneath him, and his palms split from the force with which he clenched his fists in rage and regret.

"However," came the amused continuation from the baritone voice of Banri, "we will not have your crimes tarnish the honour of your house. Should they wish to wash themselves clean of your filthy shame, your heir must declare you banished from his house. Once you are nameless, the new clan leader will be offered the chance to give his life to restore the honour to his name."

The fallen lord almost rose to his feet, such was his shock. Even the stone-faced soldiers turned their heads toward the platform in response to the outrageous announcement. That disgusting snake. How dare he strike me so low? Murakami's blood spotted the snow beneath him as his arms shook noticeably, throwing free the blood that had pooled between his fingers. His eyes were aflame as he seared his gaze into Banri's smugly indifferent face. He would never forget this.

The younger man beside him, the lord's own son, turned to look at his father.

"Tululila, Talila Tulula."
CharactersShow
Character
S-rankSunagakure no SatoHIzashi, Kougyoku

REPLY

Return to “Lightning Empire”

×