[Legends] To Surrender is To Die

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Rain21199
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[Legends] To Surrender is To Die

Post by Rain21199 » Tue Mar 02, 2021 9:44 pm

Crashing waves brushed against the blackened shores of the island. An orchestra of wind fluttered through the luscious leaves of the towering palms and ancient oaks, and a melody of birdsong chimed in. Like a distant drumming, the clank of metal could be heard, rhythmic in its pounding. Starting as a mere accompaniment to the noises of nature, the sounds of a hundred boots stepping in the sand, and a hundred swords clanging against their owners began to increase in volume. Soon, there was no more crashing of waves, no more whistle of wind, and no more songs to be sung. This pounding became the music of the island.

One hundred or so samurai marched side by side, carrying all manor of weapons and armors. Katana, Wakizashi, Kunai, Longbows, Boiled leather, and Iron Samurai armor could be seen amongst the men. Zakuro was one of a dozen men who rode on horseback near the rear of the two squadrons. He and a prominent member of Fire Country’s Toshikane family were tasked to lead this army and take the island known as Lava. Zakuro was dressed from head to toe in samurai armor made from darkened iron. As a man with plenty of combat experience, and one who has studied war extensively during his time in incarceration and after, Zakuro was chosen for this. Yuuma, Aoi, Konoha’s military advisor, and Natsuki, Takeo, the Hokage both decided that it would only be of benefit for Zakuro to have real experience leading troops in battle, and to honor their friendship with Fire Country by providing them with a powerful asset during this war.

Natsuki, Yozei, bastard child of the Harukatsu family and a one time student of Zakuro himself, was also sent by Konoha's leadership to lead Fire Country's troops. He was a prominent enough figure in Fire Country that he could hold sway over men and have connections, while also reporting directly to Konoha. Convincing Fire Country to give him a position of power was much easier than doing the same for Zakuro, but he was here to mentor the much younger Yozei.

Zakuro was meant to be the experienced one, yet he couldn't help a feeling of nervousness. His vision was cut off by iron, every breath was wet and stuffy, and the heat was starting to cook him alive, but at the very least his face was hidden. Sweat raced down his forehead, partially from the heat, mostly from nerves. He was going up against an unorganized and unarmed people who were expected to retreat upon sight of their forces. There was nothing to be worried about, but a voice of doubt rang out in the back of his head. ‘What if we’re wrong? What if they don’t surrender? What if they’re more organized than we think? What if I make the wrong call and we all pay the price?’ 52 lives were in Zakuro’s hands. They would answer to his every order. He could lead them to victory or to death. The weight of his responsibility hung heavy around his shoulders. He felt weighed down in his saddle. He was thankful he didn’t have to walk, because he doubted his legs could carry the burden he felt in this moment.

“Natsuki, we’re approaching the objective and about to break rank. There’s no doubt they know we’re here, and it’s not a question of if they’ll ambush us, but when. We need to be ready for a fight when that happens.” Zakuro spoke with a cool, commanding tone, betraying the uncertainty he felt within.

They were mere minutes away from their first target.

“MEN! HALT!” His voice rang out into the dense forest. Zakuro could hear his men echoing his orders so the very front of the formation could hear. The reaction was almost instant. The hammer of heels in the soft earth stopped. “FACE LEFT” Zakuro shouted again, the squadron turned in response. “MARCH!” The formation began to move like a massive horizontal line, pushing into the forest. Zakuro turned to Yozei, “Natsuki, remember, when you get into position, send five flaming arrows into the sky. Once the fifth one begins to fall back to earth, we set the forest behind their village ablaze and wait to attack from both sides, allowing no escape. Take as many men hostage as you can, and use them to force a surrender. They likely don’t speak our language, but if we hold enough of their people to the point of our blades, they are bound to stop the fight. If you get attacked before you get into position, send only one arrow into the air. We’ll do the same if we encounter opposition on our side. Best of luck to you Sir.” and with a crack of the reigns, Zakuro quickly caught up with his men.

Closing his eyes, Zakuro listened to his surroundings. He tried to listen for any outsiders but the sound of his men overpowered anything he otherwise might hear. By now, the village heard them. These troops were vastly undisciplined and inexperienced. The number of times Zakuro spoke of the importance of sound discipline seemed to fall on deaf ears. While surprise wouldn’t be essential to their victory, it certainly wouldn’t have hurt.

The tropical forest began to thicken. With a motion of his arms, Zakuro’s men dispersed, maintaining a crescent shape as they pushed forward. A team of six Samurai from his squad lit torches and broke from the rest of the men. They didn’t have enough troops to efficiently surround the entire village, so a wall of fire would have to block escape on one side. The only other point of escape was a death trap. Ten well armed bowmen awaited in the brush for anyone who dared to escape. They would not get the opportunity to turn this battle into guerrilla warfare. The forest was lush and easy to hide in. To have to weed them out of the forests would require destroying an ecosystem and a loss of too many men.

Without opposition or ambush, they entered the clearing of the village. Zakuro was positive that they would’ve been smart enough to lay an ambush for the army, but there was no burning arrow from the other side, and as far as the shinobi could tell, nobody was lurking in the woods on their side. Maybe these people were more docile than originally anticipated.

The sudden appearance of armor clad men caught the attention of everyone in the village. Some were running inside, others stood still, simply staring. Zakuro motioned for his men to halt. They would stay here until the fire raged. Then they would attack, grabbing as many men and women as possible in order to quell the fighting. There was no need to slaughter everyone. Just enough to claim victory.

Quiet fell upon them once again. The large leaves of the palms were once more audible as they rustled in the wind. The ocean’s waves crashed against the shore. Not even a whisper was spoken.

Then, a small murmur began. Smoke filled the air and the people of the village began to panic. It was finally confirmed that these armored men were not here for peace. Zakuro unstrung the bow from his back. He wrapped his fingers tightly around the sleek bamboo, a weapon he borrowed from his new allies. A soft clack of wood hitting wood could be heard as he knocked an arrow. Then, forty more identical clacks followed. Zakuro took a deep breath, filling his nostrils with the thick scent of soot and stretched back his string, waiting for them to make the first move.

Mamoru Gerudo
Konohagakure - D-Rank

Resu
Owl Country - D-Rank

" A 7 for Zangy for example, is different from a 7 from Envy who is not quite a nuanced writer as Zangy is (sorry Envy), which is different from a 7 for Rain, who has English as his second language." - Onu 2016

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Izanagi
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[Legends] To Surrender is To Die

Post by Izanagi » Sun Jul 04, 2021 9:35 pm

Natsuki Yozei, bastard of the Harukatsu family and Grandson of the current ruling Fire Daimyo had been given a great opportunity. To make use of his talents as a shinobi and lead Samurai sworn to the Harukatsu family into battle. This was another step toward being legitimized and earning his birthright as a prince of Fire Country. He carried one of the Harukatsu family treasures at his hip, the sword of Yamabushi, passed down for generations and given to him in recognition of his skills as a shinobi. He wore a kimono and Hakama of fine red silks with gold accents, gifted by his mother. His forehead protector he kept in his hip pouch, for he was here representing fire country first and a shinobi second.

As the ships made shore the sixteen-year-old Special Jounin channeled chakra through his body, emanating a soft blue aura before coating himself in a set of deep brown earthen samurai styled armor. Now appropriately looking the part he mounted his horse and followed after the men as they stormed the beaches. He was feeling the nerves himself; it was one thing to fight against high-level opponents by himself but something else entirely to be responsible for the lives of 50 men. So too did he hope that the villagers would surrender after a show of strength. Yozei knew his nation needed this key foothold both for its resources and as a convenient outpost to fend off Kirigakure should they begin to expand to the neighboring islands. If it came down to it though, he knew victory and the preserving of his men’s lives were the priority. More than being the son of the Hokage and Grandson of the Daimyo, he valued his comrades, be they shinobi or samurai and he believed in his country. Beyond that he carried the burden of tremendous power despite his youth; his talents were primarily AoE style attacks that could cause great devastation, rivaling Kage in destructive power. If need be, it was entirely likely he could destroy the village itself singlehandedly. All these men simply needed to keep opposing forces away from him. Yet it was his responsibility to find balance in that, to know when to hold back and choose the less destructive path.

He was relieved that Zakuro was with him at least, he respected his mentor figure, thinking of him as a friend. Between Yozei’s ninjutsu and Zakuro’s taijutsu and ever-expanding tactical prowess, the young men seemed to have strong odds in their favor. Of course, Yozei had received his own fair share of education and personal tutors but putting that into practice was something else entirely. The two shinobi, clad in their samurai armor rode together behind their respective platoons. The Harukatsu loyal men tended to wear clothing and armor that incorporated more reds whereas the Toshikane tended to have more blues, blacks and golds in their coloring. “We’ll be ready, let’s just be sure to spare the noncombatants if possible” he affirmed. He would hate to have the blood of women and children on his hands, as easy as it would be to simply rain down fire on the village he didn’t want to live with that on his conscience. When Zakuro called out his commands, Yozei echoed the same, though ordered his platoon to march right.

Yozei nodded, as a shinobi naturally his first thoughts were to simply utilize a flare jutsu or even his own Katon techniques to start the fire though he supposed it was practical to use the men for such things so as to not spend chakra needlessly. Though he couldn’t imagine having to fight to the point of exhausting himself, nonetheless it did seem a good habit to build. “Understood. Best of luck Gerudo Senpai” he replied, following Zakuro’s more formal example. Yozei was a Special Jounin of Konoha and now a Lieutenant of the Fire Country military, but on this assignment despite both leading a platoon he was expected to learn from and follow Zakuro’s lead.

Advancing with his men, Yozei descended from his horse and tied the animal to a tree as the foliage grew thicker. He would be more useful with the earth at his feet anyway and the horse and its keen instincts would likely alert them if any men intended on sneaking behind them as they closed in on the village. Assuming they made it within a line of sight of the village, Yozei would similarly send men with torches into position and then signal his archers to let loose their flaming arrows, five shots, staggered only a second after one another. “Ready arrows, hold position!” he commanded as the fires behind the village began to take hold. His archers were ready to loose arrows if combatants came forth and should anyone threaten the archers the men armed with Katana were ready to close in to defend them and if possible begin taking prisoners. Meanwhile, Yozei moved to the end of the chokepoint and began to flow his chakra into the ground, ready to block off any chance of escape and take as many prisoners as possible with his Doton ninjutsu.
Jutsu UsedShow
[Earth Element • Samurai Armor]
C-Ranked Ninjutsu
Channeling chakra throughout one’s body the user will encase themselves in a semi-malleable full body rock armor. The rock takes on the appearance of an ornate samurai battle armor, complete with a removable helmet as well as shoulder guards. The many tiles overlap and cover his arms, chest and legs utilizing dark brown coloring and a thinner layer of rock between the tiles and along joints. Though the back of his hands are protected the palms and fingers remain bare. This armor forms at a speed of [5] and possesses [35] strength.

Doton • Superior Terra Infusion
A-rank Ninjutsu
After performing the needed hand seals the user places any part of their body onto a body of earth this infuses up to a 8m x 8m x 8m volume of earth to be manipulated with terrakinesis, this infusion lasts until the end of the thread

Natsuki Takeo - 17th Hokage, former Anbu Commander [DEAD]
Karagata Shinjiro - Kiri Bannin; Jinchuuriki, Overseer of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist, Kintsugi
Haziwara Youji- Iwagakure Chunin
Takeda Ichiro - A-Rank Waterfall Country; Black Wake, Chishiki, Setsuzoku
Hyuuga Takeshi - Konoha Special Jounin; Anbu
Jouchaku Shigeko - Kiri Genin; HHD

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Ace Trainer
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[Legends] To Surrender is To Die

Post by Ace Trainer » Mon Jul 05, 2021 12:09 pm

5.18.1227 - 12:13PM

The death of my people is here.

The sounds of war from mainland samurai has appeared on our soil and I am well aware of their capability, and I recognize that this will surely be the death of my people. I am writing this to create record of my culture, and the happenings of this day. Whoever finds this record, I ask you forgive any error you find, and what will surely be my own emotion that leaks into it.

I should first say that my people are one of the oldest in the world, and we consider ourselves to be historians. Throughout this island records like this one exist that make note of some of the greatest event this world has experienced. While the Jin no Kazanbai - our true name though we are known as the tribal people of Lava Island throughout the world - are considered to be tribal and primitive, we have continually sent out people into the world at large to record events. I would take a cautionary guess that on this island exists one of the longest and most complete records of human existence. My greatest sorrow is that it is written in our native tongue, a tongue we have purposefully ensure has never been heard or seen beyond the beaches of this island, that I now fear will mean the death of our history as well.

If anyone manages to decipher it, know that the trees store our history. Carved into the bark, like I carve these letters, we then cultivate the tree and nuture it for the bark to regrow over the testimonial and editorials of our people. When needed, the bark is simply carved away again to reveal the record.

I want to ensure I include as much information as I can. Anything that will - in the event this record survives - help my people endure, or at least their legacy. However, establishing where I start seems so impossible.

First, my name is Kahu e rere huri noa i te puia. On the mainland, pilgrims of my people always took the same name of the common tongue: Kazan - Volcano. I have existed for 13 cycles by my people's calendar, but I believe that is roughly 23 cycles years by the common calendar. Unlike most of our archives, I have marked this with the time and date of the common calendar.

I went on my pilgrimage during my 10th cycle, as 'Recorders' always did. I was chosen to be a recorder during my 5th cycle and spend 5 cycles studying every record and archive that exists on the island, and learning the common tongue. I spent a full cycle on the mainland, where I spent much of my time in the west, and have since returned to Kazanbai no Kyoudo - Lava Island as named by the common tongue - where I record information sent back by pilgrims. 300 meters north of this tree, my village exists. Several villages dotted this island, my village is home to exactly 217 people. I can hear their war cries now. But, they have never seen warfare on the mainland. They will have spears and bows, they will move through the trees more swiftly than the mainlanders expect, but they will not be prepared for the power, the Ki Qi, that the samurai wield.

The mainlanders are burning land as they move. Kazanbai no Kyoudo always smells of smoke, but it is ma me mahana clean and warm. This smoke smells of death.

I'm listening closely, the war cries have stopped, by I hear metal clashing. The people in my village have surely began to attack. Our people do not fear death, but have seen and heard of subjugation on the mainland. Everyone one, even the smallest of children, will fight and scream and scratch and bite until their last breath. This is wāriu. The common tongue would understand that word to mean value, but it has much more meaning to that. Our people live by wāriu.

The fire is spreading towards me. I will move towards the other village and begin another archive along the way.

I recognize that the fire will likely burn this tree and every other and this archive away quicker than I have carved it, but I have to.

This is wāriu.
Kahu e rere huri noa i te puia
Mistaki ShioShiimu KozanGekko IndraShoshiki HeiyaHizashi Ikinari
Kirigakure No Sato
Kemurigakure no Sato

Taishou of Iron Country
Kirigakure No Sato
Genin
Experiment 81 v2
Sunagakure No Sato
Genin
The Soul Host
Iwagakure No Sato
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The Tungsten Princess
Sunagakure No Sato
Jounin
The Revolutionary
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[Kenketi Tenteki :: Kumogakure No Sato – Special Jounin]
[Setsuya Inka :: Sunagakure No Sato – The Soul Host – Special Jounin]
[Kaikyo Kohon :: Kirigakure No Sato – Jounin]
[Shinwa Basuta no Suihouheki Yasahii :: Kirigakure No Sato – Mizukage :: Spirit of Capricorn, Topenga]
[Futokutei Hitoare :: Konohagakure No Sato – Pestilence (Four Horsemen) – Jounin]
[Aisu Koiji :: Kirigakure No Sato – Jounin]
[Shitagane Sakki :: Kumogakure No Sato – Genin]
[Batsu Betsuni :: Iwagakure No SatoJounin A Rank Missing Ninja]
[Futokutei Yasunari :: Konohagakure No Sato – Genin]
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Rain21199
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[Legends] To Surrender is To Die

Post by Rain21199 » Wed Aug 25, 2021 2:10 pm

Engulfed in his father’s cracked blue armor and covered in sweat, Mura stood at the ready. His feet ached from the march. He hadn’t sat for hours. The helmet strap dug deep into his chin. Any more loose and it would tip from side to side with every step. The tops of his eyes were covered from the kabuto hanging far too low. The sun was directly overhead, turning his armor into an oven. He wished for this to be over soon so he could take this damned armor off and take a seat.

The men all stood in a line where the trees ended and the clearing began. Mura took in a deep breath, coughing as the smoke and soot filled his lungs. He glanced to his left and right. He could hardly make out the faces of the men around him, but they all stood still as statues. Mura had hardly taken notice of the sounds of the village until they roared into a unified, blood curdling yell.

Turning his head back to face the clearing, he saw them. A hundred twisted faces, filled with a hatred he’d never seen. His brain blanked. A loud voice rang out from his right, but he didn’t process the words. The click of 50 bows being knocked with arrows joined the symphony of screams.

They were all running. Not away from the fire, not into the trap that they had planned, but directly at Mura and the soldiers around him. He gulped down a ball of spit and worry. His hands shakenly unstrung the bow from his back. His fingers tried to find an arrow in his quiver to grab, but they fumbled around. Each one he pulled at got caught on something. Every second he wasted, they got closer. The villagers were faster than he could ever imagine. He yanked an arrow out, causing multiple others to fall to the ground with it.

Mura attempted to knock it, but he couldn’t get the notch to fit into the string. His arms shook, and seemed to disobey his every command. Then, commander Gerudo’s deep voice rang out. “FIRE!” Loud enough to overcome the screaming of hundreds, and brought Mura back to the present. Arrows flew from around him, smacking into flesh and dirt alike. Many went down in an instant, many continued their assault. “DRAW YOUR WEAPONS MEN! DON’T LET THEM PIN YOU AGAINST THE TREELINE. CHARGE FORWARD AND GIVE THEM HELL!” Mura let his bow and unfired arrow clatter to the soil. He pulled his father’s katana from it’s sheathe. All around him, the men charged forward, meeting the enemy only a few meters away. It was time...

Time to live up to his father’s expectations and give glory to the Kiyoshi name. Time to steel himself and fight. His hands tightly gripped the sharkskin hilt of his weapon. Soon, his voice joined the chorus made by friend and foe alike. His feet ran along the ashy ground. His armor uncomfortably swayed from side to side with each stride, but he quickly clashed with the enemy.

He clumsily swatted away an enemy spear with his weapon, and jumped forward to counter attack. As his katana swung into the man’s shoulder, he saw a youth no older than he was, looking back. He watched the kid’s eyes go wide, and his body slump into the ground.

Amidst the clash of wood, iron, flesh, and screams, he never heard the most important footsteps of his life. How could he? It took a second of introspection on the life he just took. One second of distraction, to never see that spear enter his ribs and pierce his frail body.

He wanted to stand, he would’ve given anything to do so. He wanted to fight despite the indescribable pain in his side, but his body betrayed him. His legs gave out, and he crumpled to the ground like a lifeless doll. The horrid pain in his side wavered. As his vision began to blur and blacken, he looked out into that smoke covered sky. There was no time for final words or a last, lingering thought. Death wouldn’t afford him such grandeur.

Zakuro’s katana cleaved another pile of flesh and bone. He ruthlessly moved across the battlefield, slicing through body after body like they were nothing. The force they faced likely never saw such a being. They were quickly introduced to a nightmare that would shake even the bravest men from their sleep.

With every strike of his katana, a fresh layer of blood covered his armor, and more pieces of what were once people, scattered across the ashen field.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to save them all. It was something he told himself time and time again, but the truth of it didn’t fully hit until he watched his first soldier fall. The fiend who impaled him was quickly cleaved in two, but it didn’t matter… The damage was already done, and the first life on their side was taken.

All his inhibitions, every moral part of him that said to hold back, was gone. He stopped seeing their faces, their age, their gender. He only saw red. A shade that got deeper and darker the more he cut down.

Mamoru Gerudo
Konohagakure - D-Rank

Resu
Owl Country - D-Rank

" A 7 for Zangy for example, is different from a 7 from Envy who is not quite a nuanced writer as Zangy is (sorry Envy), which is different from a 7 for Rain, who has English as his second language." - Onu 2016

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