The Shark [T/O]

[xenomugen]

Mugen walked through the rain to meet his newly assigned training partner, at a small oasis he was told that this Jäger Beschützer spent his time training in. Mugen wasn't told anything about the shinobi other then they 'might' make a good team. If he had a dollar for every time he heard that. Mugen eccentric mannerisms tended to turn off potential teammates. But Mugen couldn't help it. How would he become a great and famous magician if he didn't act the part.

Mugen was wearing his black silk top hat as was his norm. His silk cloak, pants, black shoes were replaced with black combat gear and boots. The inside of his cloak was lined with his senbon and marbles for combat, as well as a deck of playing cards and some other odds and ends he used for his magic tricks. He held his small oil umbrella over his head to block the never ending downpour of his home.

When Mugen finally arrived in the oasis, his training partner was no where to be found. Instead there was a rather large hole in the ground. Mugen approched in cauiously, making sure he could get away incase of the ground falli g in more. He knelt down next to the hole and peered in. It didn't look all to deep and he could hear noises from inside.
"An interesting place to train. But atleast it will get me out of the cold." Mugen said to himself as he stood up and jumpped into the hole. The fall was a little longer then he expected but he landed no worse for wear. But now he could hear those sounds more clearly. Footsteps. And more then one set.
"Hello. Jager. You down here." He called out as he readied himself for whatever came from out of the darkness

[Jäger Beschützer]

Jäger mouthed a swearword as he approached the wall, knowing that he truly was trapped between a rock and a hard place.  If he turned, he was going to get attacked, and be quite unprepared, if he tried to go left or right; he was still vulnerable to attack.  The only option was up.  As he approached the wall, thankful that he had used the body weight manipulation technique; he leapt up, chakra flowing from his feet and sticking him to the wall.  The attacks from behind that he had not even seen coming would bite nothing but air, but they would go uncontested as the behemoth would leap from the wall, over the top of the zombie, and landing behind it.  Considering attacks did not seem to do anything, he took his chances and moved away, back to the light, towards the voice was inexplicably calling for him.  The Hoshigaki did not know who was looking for him, or how they even knew he was here; but he was thankful that some help was here for him.  What he saw made him question if he was dreaming or not.

Between the zombies and the... Whatever this guy was; things had gone from easy training to something that seemed like a bad hallucination.  The Fishman had a few more problems than the slow uptake of this new arrival.

"Unless you can take care of zombies, I suggest we escape"

If necessary; Jäger was fairly certain he could throw the man back up the hole, but now that he had opened the hole; the Hoshigaki Akimichi felt as though it was his responsibility to ensure that whatever creatures were down here would not reach the surface.  He wished he could curse his responsible nature; but that was his life.  

[Y]

The shinobi tried a mighty leap, none are sure exactly why, and the blades of the monstrosity behind him skidded just barely underneath him. It was quite the jump, his feet curled over the height of his torso, but he managed to stay up high enough to land back down while the monster's arms were crossed. Quite the feat, but would it be enough to purge the area of this plague that now affected it?


The sound coming towards the Sharkman would suddenly stop in its tracks. It seemed that it caught the new man's arrival, made a pivot, and ran towards the recent arrival who came through the hole. The thing would come into the light, and reveal that it was bearing a shield and a sword, and held the shield relatively well, and seemed prepared for serious business. The foolish traveller who joined this adventure was a fool to. His life was already going to be put on the line. The thing went for a low cut at the shinobi, and held its shield at the ready to block any retaliation.

---

SPOILER: Click to show

Shield, Buckler (Overview)
Rank: "C"
Type: Main, Weapon, Bludgeoning, Shield
Effect: A small, round shield held by a handle or worn on the forearm.
Special: ---
Drawback: ---
Description: A Light Weapon. These weapons do +2 Amour Points of Damage. A small shield worn strapped to the forearm. The user can use a bow or a crossbow without penalties to their Range Increment while carrying it. The user can also use their shield arm to wield a weapon whether they are using their off-hand or using their off hand to help wield a 2-handed weapon. These items are used as protection against blows or missiles or can be used as a weapon. Bucklers are never larger than the user's forearm.
Limit: These items may be bought inside any Weapon Shop.
Cost: 2,000 Ryo

Sword, Short (Overview)
Rank: "C"
Type: Main, Piercing/Slashing, Sword
Effect: A weapon with a long metal blade and a hilt with a hand guard.
Special: ---
Drawback: ---
Description: A Light Weapon. These weapons do +6 Amour Points of Damage. A short sword is about 2 feet in length. Examples of Short Swords: Tanto, Baselard, Cinquedea, Gladius, Kodachi, Xiphos or even the Mechete.
Limit: These items may be bought inside any Weapon Shop.
Cost: 2,000 Ryo

SPOILER: Click to show

"C" Rank Undead Type Taijutsu Master
~500 TP in Kumotate Style

[xenomugen]

A somewhat repulsive smell lingered in the air as Mugen peered through the darkness. 'It smells like decay.' He thought as he listened. He wondered what kind of place he had jumped down into. He would soon get his answer as the undead creature came lunging at him from out of the darkness.
"You're not part of my act." Mugen leaned back and pushed his feet off the ground to dodge the oncoming attack. As his feet hit the floor he fell backwards, sitting as he did and used the momentum to roll over shoulder, putting himself a few arm-lengths away from the sword-and-shield weilding creature. He ending the roll, crouched on the balls of his feet. His left hand against the ground for support and an extra pushing force if he had to quickly move again. His other arm was hidden in his cloak as he opened a slot, and took out a pouch of 50 marbles and readied them for throwing.

"Unless you can jump about ten feet in the air, I do believe we aren't leaving quite yet." Mugen replied to the voice in the darkness, who he had to assume was Jager's

Weapon prepared 

SPOILER: Click to show

Marbles (Small) (Overview)
Rank: "B" Rank
Type: Secondary, 50 per Slot, Bludgeoning, Ball
Effect: A small ball of colored glass or similar material used as a toy.
Special: ---
Drawback: ---
Description: A Light Weapon. These weapons do +2 Amour Points of Damage. The Range Increment of this weapon is 10 meters. Sphere weapons. Normally made from glass however they could be made out of harder materials such as steel. Commonly used as a toy, but also useful for checking slopes, or as a nondamaging alternative to caltrops. One Slot covers a 2 meter square area. Creatures moving through or fighting in the area could fall and remain prone for the rest of the round. Normally 1 inch (2.54 cm) in diameter.
Limit: These items may be bought inside any Weapon Shop.
Cost: 5,000 Ryo per Slot

[Jäger Beschützer]

It looked as though their troubled were far from over; but Jäger was at least glad there was someone here to aid him, regardless of the odd look and unknown quantities or name.  The Fishman was wondering how his name was known, but there certainly were more pressing matters at hand.  The large axe in his left hand brandished before him; the behemoth moved towards his new companion, in an attempt to aid him.  The boy had some sort of weapon in his hand, but in the darkness he was not able to identify it.  As he approached, his mind clicked with the idea of being able to jump ten feet.  He did not even need to jump.  The technique would take too long though, and he was certain that these undead creatures would not let him prepare himself to perform it.  Even if he had the time, there would be little to no room for him to move around in the small space, and although he was certainly strong enough to break through the ceiling; he did not want to risk injuring his own companion.  

If he had been a couple hundred pounds lighter, using the boy as a stepping pad to leap off of with an overhead axe attack would have been cool.  Instead he stood by the side of the prepared magician man, the other creature that he had left behind in the back corner was far enough away.


[OOC: Sorry for the shitty post; I'm going to be kinda busy till tuesday.  Shitty work schedule]

[Y]

The dead outnumber the living.
The pair had wasted a perfectly good opportunity Now, the dual-sword wielding undead being had uncrossed its arms and was ready for fighting once more, and sword n' shield user was makings its move. The dual wielder made a spring of unusual talent back over towards the center of the room, in two bounding steps. It would swing one of its swords at first. The motion would start out with a high swing from the right from the right at Jager. Then, he would immediately bounce back, hit, block or dodge, and swing around on one foot, slashing a pair of blades at the magician. Unfortunately, this attack would be time precisely at the same time as the sword n' board's attack.

That other denizen of the underworld would thrust with his sword repeatedly, for a total of five thrusts, each at a slightly different angle. Yet, he kept his shield ready, exercising more caution than the others. He would start by going for the magician's knee, then darting his blade at Jager's rather large torso, and than back at the magician's shoulder, than a short wait, before two rapid stabs at the chest in quick succesion.

Meanwhile, the first creature staggered to its feet...

[xenomugen]

Mugen would waste little time in going for his counter, and as the duel-wielding undead's first strike came down at Jager, Mugen would lunged to the undead's right side, rolling pass him and out of the range of the shield and sword undead attacks. He stood up and spun on hell and threw down the 50 marbles at the feet of both undead, forcing the rest of the movements to be done with the change of face-planting the ground. He then raised the umbrella he was still holding in his left hand in a defensive manner, waiting for the next round of attacks to come

"Push them around. The more they move, the more they'll fall." Mugen called to his ally. He didn't know much about undead, but he was fairly certain then stomping on the skull of one laying on the ground until the head resembles paste should slow them down.

[Jäger Beschützer]

The shark did not enjoy the compromising position he had been placed in, and he cursed his catlike curiosity. As he was surrounded on both sides now, he leapt to the opposite side of where his new companion was moving to as the undead creatures tried to slash at and stab him. Opening the battlefield up and with marbles in between the four of them now. His body was straining to maintain the bulked form, but he could hold it for a couple more seconds before he became too tired to maintain it any longer, and if the beasts fell on the marbles, then it would be no issue for him to destroy them with his heightened strength, and even if they did not, then, well, he was going to need another way to destroy them. Even he was going to need to be careful when moving around, as the marbles were lost in the dark as they rolled around on the dirty earth.

The giant axe in his hand felt quite comfortable, but he felt the anger growing inside of him, and the urge to break the great weapon on the body of one of these zombies was incredible. Unfortunately, he could feel the marbles at his feet and did not want to risk slipping and falling, he would have to let them come to him. Ten meters now separated him from either of his enemies now, and he held the axe lengthways in front of him, preparing for their inevitable attacks.

[Y]

OOC: Please stand by for a BM. I didn't think we'd need one, but I think Jaegar might have just died.

[Battle Moderator 1]

To Y:

Quote any techniques your NPCs are using. If they aren't using any, then each separate attack will be a movement.

***

Jäger's "he leapt to the opposite side of where his new companion was moving to..." appears to show that he is basically jumping backwards.

Everything seems fine. Mugen rolled forward and past the undead, while Jäger has backed away. Both of those dodges should be sufficient if the undead do not do anything to pursue either characters.

Here is the current position if everything succeeds:

The Undead Pair's final position after their attack will be dependent on Y. If he decides for the Undead Pair to follow Jäger's leap back, their attacks will still occur at the same time. Each undead will be able to use one or two basic attacks before the marbles are in place.

***

If you have information you wish to highlight that may affect this ruling, PM me.

[Y]

The pair of zombies would be quite stumped by the marbles. Being less than the smartest beings, they would both lunge at Jager, stumbling as they went, and inevitably falling. They moved simultaneously, clawing at the ground, with not traction to get them anywhere. They closed a few meters distance, perhaps 3 or 4, and then hit the ground, skidding along the marbles closer to Jager, so close they could almost reach him. They flailed their swords and clawed for traction, trying to regain their footing. Jager would only have a brief moment before they were up and clawing at him full-force. The shield wielder was climbing to its feet, shield ready, to Jager's left slightly, and the one with two swords was getting up to his right. 

Meanwhile, the unarmed creature, the one who was the source of Jager's axe, had clamored to his feet. He would close whatever  distance there was between him and Mugen, tyring to grab him. If he closed the gap without problem, which was likely due to him being behind Mugen, where no marbles were, he would reach out for a big hug-like grab around Mugen's torso, pinning his arms down.

---

OOC:
No techniques were used unless it say they were.
Sorry for the long wait. The lack of BM's screwed me over.

[Jäger Beschützer]

[OOC: I think because of the longevity of this random encounter, and the fact I had to wait a month for a deliberation that was not necessary, nor was I told the reasoning for, I want this to be over by the next post, I am agitated at this turn of events and that it came to this.]

The behemoth saw his chance as the footing of the zombies weakened and they began to fall.  Their feet danced as they tried to regain some sort of traction; but the marbles were magical in their effectiveness, and the two went down hard.  By the time they had struck the ground, Jäger  was already high above them, all five hundred pounds of his bulky, and expanding frame coming crashing down on the undead creature to the right.  The giant axe in his hand would come down, aiming to decapitate the zombie he was not about to crush, and their bodies would be effectively useless after he landed.  The soft and unarmored flesh and bone of the beast below his feet would not hold a candle to his mass, and the spine and ribs would be crushed from the force with almost no effort on his part.  Sometimes being such a weighty creature was quite an advantage.  As his belly was expanding as the bulk control technique wore off however, he did see the need to lose a little weight.

The last bothersome creature had a hold on his new companion, and Jäger used the axe as a pole vault to launch his massive frame over to his partner and the creature currently trying to hug him to death.  His right hand free from the hefty axe, it reached to grasp the skull, and to crush it with his monstrous strength.  With it being preoccupied with the small; artistic looking man, he doubted it would be able to process such an agile and unexpected attack from such a beast of a man.  The Hoshigaki did not consider himself a lucky man, but he did consider himself to be effective on the battle field, and once that small skull was in his massive hands; it would be like breaking an egg, and just about as messy.  This situation had become a little too violent for his tastes; and he wished he could have simply escaped the cavern without killing, but his hand had been forced.  

[Y]

The skull would indeed break in his hands, and as it did, all the creatures would fall limp. It seemed they were all linked together. Regardless, it would be easy to find the exit, and follow a tunnel leading to an abandoned building in the middle of the poorer parts of Amegakure.

---

OOC: Made it easy to exit. I'm so sorry. I just wanted a quick consultation because I was real confused. Didn't think it would drag out like this.

[Jäger Beschützer]

[OOC: I still love you Y, don't ever change]

Book of War and Valor, The
Rank: "S"
Type: Main, Book, Reference
Effect: A book pertaining to combat dealing with honor and valor.
Special: ---
Drawback: ---
Description: Page Count: 534 pgs. By Mijon Sun. Little is known about the Warlord Mijon Sun, except for the fact that fighters and warriors hail him as a genius. Those who have read his book credit the information therein with saving their lives on more than one occasion. Part physical training, part motivational handbook, the text explains mot only the fundamentals of combat, but expounds the virtue of honorable fighting and the dignity of valor. In life, Mijon Sun had been the youngest son of a wealthy warlord. Though given basic training in weaponry and tactics, he was forced to study warfare like his older brothers. Content to inherit neither his father’s power nor responsibilities, Mijon Sun studied art and literature and led the life of a spoiled noble. That is, until war broke out and his father and two older brother’s died in combat. Forced to take command of his family’s battered army, he tried to defend his people. But he was beaten down by the opposing warlord on the battlefield. Before his opponent delivered the fatal blow, he mocked Mijon Sun and said he would take his dear sister as a concubine. The thought filled Mijon with a renewed sense of purpose, and he focused the purpose into his blade. He managed to defeat the enemy warlord and finally drive back the enemy army. He then took to devout study of the art of war, and combined this knowledge with his own literary skills to create a masterpiece of warfare. The tactics in the book rely heavily on ideas of honor, valor, integrity, and personal fortitude. Power comes not only from practice and natural skill, but recognizing what is of importance and using it to fuel your battle. Characters of LG, LN, N, and NG alignment readily understand the concepts in the book, and gain a +10 Armour Points in Striking Damage against defenses, a +1 Competence Bonus to Saves pertaining to GenJutsu and other forms of similar persuasion. Characters of CG or CN alignment can understand the concepts, but do not necessarily grasp the finer points. They gain only a +10 Armour Points in Striking Damage against defenses or a +1 Competence Bonus to Saves pertaining to GenJutsu and other forms of similar persuasion. Evil aligned characters cannot gain any benefit from this book. It takes about a week of careful study to understand the contents of the book.
Limit: These items may be bought inside any Special Book Shop. 5% chance finding.
Cost: 50,000 Ryo

[OOC: If it's two weeks, I don't mind, but the book says one, so if any staff member could clear that up, it would be great.  As is though, I'll be posting for seven days.]

1/7

As Jäger in the carnage he had begat; he felt quite uncomfortable with the remnants of the creatures head within his hands; escape was clearly the only thing he was interested in.  The magician looking fellow did not seem to be interested in this anymore, so the fishman ignored him and attempted to leave the cave.  There was a poor taste in his mouth after bloodshed, and he wished to put it behind him.  After such a distasteful happening, he wanted to lose himself in a book, and the weight of the War and Valor tome was quite heavy to him at the moment.  It was a book that spoke of the many aspects of war, and what he was most interested in at the moment, the recovery after death has been given by the hands of the person who wields the book.  The creatures may have been husks; but Jäger was not someone to take any sort of death lightly, and he had ended them with great anger in his heart; a feeling that he greatly regretted, and resented himself for allowing to have come through.  

Chakra filled his muscles in his legs, and he noticed that he felt considerably lighter than he had been when he dropped down into the hole; and that was an odd feeling, but it made his chakra fueled leap far easier than it would have been not too long ago.  The rain had diminished and the sun was now peeking from behind the clouds; but much of the land was still drenched.  That was none of his concern at the moment, his great body felt empty, and his powerful mind was in overdrive, the stress of killing making him feel tired and apathetic.  Sitting on a wet patch of grass, he allowed the suns rays to pour over his body; he needed to lose himself for a while.  The book was on him thankfully; as he did not want to return to his home in the rust district at present, as he did not want to see the sorry state of the place and have more weight on his mind.  

The books was worn and weathered, yet it still retained the scent of a fresh book, as though the pages had been bound together with great care only days before.  The words of the page were not faded, the ink still stained the pages as dark as it had done the day that it had been printed.  The leather binding of the book felt quite satisfactory in his hands, and the text in the preemptive pages of the book outlining the reasoning behind the creation of the book, and the collaboration of the quite frankly, incredible minds that were tapped in the making of this material.  These pages mostly spoke of the details regarding the war effort that this tome had been crafted for, and how it was created to help those who were forced to go to battle.  The history of the story was sad, and he could only imagine the pain in the words that were written on these pages, all in order to try and save the lives of those combatants who would follow in the footsteps of the ones who laid down their lives for this book.  

It allowed those who were able to study the pages of the book to be able to take more damage, which Jäger could already be considering a staunch master of.  Physical punishment was not the only thing that it defended against though, as the knowledge of the book allowed the educated warrior to mentally resist genjutsu techniques that would otherwise erode and control a mind.  The behemoth was no idiot; but his clan was not exactly skilled with Genjutsu, so knowing more about them and knowing how to defend oneself against the techniques would be an exceptional idea.  As he turned another page of the precursor, he saw the title printed neatly upon the fresh page, the authors name listed underneath.  The world had already been removed from his attention; he was going to study this tome with great care, and he was going to learn everything this great tome and its wealth of knowledge could impart.  

[Jäger Beschützer]

2/7

Lost in his thoughts on the pages of the book, Jäger did not hear the knock at the door, and continued waiting for the green tea that he was brewing to finish.  He could not continue reading without his delicious tea.  The green tea had an aroma that calmed him, and the herbal liquid calmed his stomach and prevented gas.  Not that he had gas, but that was thanks to his habit of drinking green tea.  The book so far had explained the mentality required to enter a battle with, and how true warriors remained calm and content no matter how destructive the fire inside burned.  There were those that could let the rage consume them, but those were the ones who hurt their own companions, unable to contain the rage that was bursting forth.  The Fishman was a man who was able to move mountains when his rage consumed him; but he had never allowed it to fully take him over.  That day would be a dark day indeed.  A calm mind and heart was something he was especially interested in, as he lived his life trying to keep a calm equilibrium.  

The steam of the tea wafted up and the scent washed over him; relaxing his body and readying him for more reading and studying.  The knock sounded again, and this time he heard it; but after brief consideration, he ignored it, choosing to overlook any sort of responsibility in favour of his research.  Moving the small tea pot with him over to his pillow on the ground, he placed it on a small white hand towel with needlepoint waves embroidered into it.  Pouring himself a cup, the small porcelain heating up rapidly as the hot liquid was poured in.  The scent once more reached his nostrils and he smiled contentedly.  Taking a sip, he had to inhale air quickly after to try and cool the hot tea, and he swallowed it, wincing as it burned all the way down.  Perhaps it was necessary to wait for it to cool before enjoying it.  Placing the small cup down, he picked up the tome and cracked the spine, the pages falling open to where he had left off the previous day.  Although there was no marking on the pages to signify what the page number was; Jäger had a pretty good memory.  

The page still spoke of the mentality of a warrior who was well prepared for battle, and each point that it spoke of seemed to be represented by the large Hoshigaki fairly well.  He was calm and gentle outside of a fight, and when the time was right, he was capable of feats of remarkable strength and bravery in order to protect what he loved.  Jäger was a warrior of honesty and heart, much like those who had fought in the years before him.  Perhaps one day he could write a book that detailed his views on battle and living outside of battle as a man who was hailed as a warrior.  Although his stories were few, he felt as though his insight would be quite vaunted by those who wished to live peaceful lives, but were called upon to defend what they loved.  It was a harsh reality, and those who wished for peace were forced to fight for it quite often, much like many of the heroes that this book spoke of.  Mijon was a man after his own heart, a man whom it would have been an honor to meet.  

The story was beginning to develop from the mentality of a warrior and how valor was important to maintain a life of harmony, towards how Mijon was forced to take up arms and step in as a warrior in place of his father in order to protect his family and his home.  The physical work out and the mental exercises that he underwent while training to fight in the war were all detailed and the way they helped develop a warrior were explained in great and understandable detail.  Jäger paused for a moment after a few pages had been read, and touched the cup of tea, feeling the heat of the liquid through the porcelain.  Picking it up, he cherished the heat in his palm before bringing the cup to his lips; letting the hot tea heat his body as he drained the cup.  It was still quite hot, but it had cooled enough to drink, and drink he did.  Pouring another cup, he took a sip, but then placed it back down on the small towel, ready to continue reading the pages, ready to explore the story of Mijon.  

[Jäger Beschützer]

3/7

The training that Mijon experienced, and that he had wrote down in the book was a harsh and thorough, and although it was incredibly difficult training, Jäger was certain that looking back over his life, it would have been something he was satisfied with, as opposed to something that he regretted.  The actual work outs were incredibly basic, but mighty good for the body, and the Hoshigaki was thinking about even initiating them into his own work outs.  When he was finished reading the book of course.  A powerful foundation was necessary for a powerful body, and although he was already a behemoth of a man with strength that could not be compared to most in the village; there was always room for improvement, and learning training techniques from the masters of old seemed to be as good a way to make ones physical body reach its full potential.  Though the large fishman had been hoping to get more mental satisfaction from the knowledge gleaned from this tome than anything else.

It certainly did provide to a point so far, as Mijon outlined the mental fortitude one required in order to suffer through the training his father had put him through while his brothers lounged about.  There was certainly something to be said about the mental fortitude of a man who is forced to undergo stressful training while his family enjoys riches, and then while they die in battle, to not forsake the name or the honor, and go to battle like a true warrior.  Jäger was incredibly impressed by the power of his mind.  This author was truly someone who should inspire future warriors, and the Hoshigaki could only hope to be half as much of a warrior as this man was.  There was no reason to hold himself at that level though, life was more simple for the great blue behemoth, and his training was merely for the purpose of defending his city and home and everyone he loved within the walls.  In this regard, perhaps he was like Mijon.

Jäger had always striven for power in order to protect, believing that power for the sake of having power was always wrong, but the way that the book detailed wielding power made it seem more like having power deterred others from trying to commit evil deeds against them.  It made sense, but those with power, even though they may seek to do good, sometimes could not keep track of what was right and what was wrong due to their deeming things a 'necessary evil'.  When people can begin justifying horrifying deeds as a necessary evil, they were no longer trying to protect their people, and were using their powers for unrighteous reasoning.  Much like his traverse into the catacombs beneath the Rust District, he had been unable to find a peaceful solution to prevent the zombies from attempting to kill him, and had to overwhelm them with his 'power'.  A necessary evil.  This shook him, as he was quite uncomfortable with the violence he was capable of displaying.

The training in the tome between his large hands suddenly felt distasteful, but Jäger reasoned that even Mijon from this tale had needed to take violent means in order to protect others, no matter how he despised it.  The book spoke of his feelings of inadequacy while he was subjected to the harsh training regiments under his fathers whips.  The torment that filled him about his own weakness and inability to protect his family; even though they treated him poorly his entire life, he was being the best person he could be, and felt as though he had failed himself.  This perked up the Hoshigaki a little bit.  Even heroes failed themselves, it was how they recovered and carried themselves after failure that made them true heroes after all.  Regaining ones honour and calm were instrumental in allowing Mijon to live through the war and write this book to impart his wisdom.  The words truly did affect the behemoth.   

[Jäger Beschützer]

4/7

Jäger held the book close as he read, the string of letters strung together beautifully and with such craftsmanship that it allowed his mind to form paint a picture of a scene happened in the long past.  He could only hope that his own opus magnus would be so delicately crafted and be able to inspire such visions as these pages granted the great Hoshigaki.  It felt humbling to be in the presence of such works.  Finding that he was losing himself in the craftsmanship rather than the story once again, he quickly smiled to himself and buried himself between the pages, scanning the ancient papyrus for the part he had left off at.  After reading over a sentence he had read before, he quickly skipped down to the next one, which was luckily after a break in the story, starting a new paragraph and train of thought.  Immersing himself back into the story, he tried to once more bring up the images in his mind as the descriptors explained.  Very quickly he fell off into his own imagination as he watched the scene unfold.

The sound of hooves on cobblestone was heard all too often in the village these days.  Constant news of death and despair being brought to them from the war in the west.  Sadness was the sound those hooves brought with them, a sadness with enough weight to bring mothers and wives to their knees.  I too felt the cool chill of ice in my veins when I heard them approach, always wondering if my father and brothers names were going to be those that were announced next.  It was not the fear of losing them, but the mix of fear and excitement that burned wildly inside my heart at the thought of honouring my family and country like my forebears.  A loss of family would wound me deep, but my father would not have me disrespect his name with tears or sadness, he would have me collect up my armor and take up arms in order to represent our family name and the ancestors that had made it proud for centuries.

I stood behind the iron gates, the soft wind carrying the heavy hoof falls through the village to my ears.  They did not normally travel this far in, they usually stopped in the middle of the town in order to call out to the families of those that had fallen.  By the sounds of the caravan, they had gone around the village square and were heading up the main road to this compound.  Somehow I knew that they were coming for me.  With a heart weighted by sadness and loss, I gathered my equipment, donning the ebony steel helm with the golden edges, snapping it beneath my chin to keep it there.  The two piece plate was place upon my breast by my servants, and the snaps were fastened tightly also.  Finally they tied my greaves to my shins and placed my geta before me so I could step into them easily.  Upon my back my spear was held by a help rope across my shoulder, and my sword was sheathed at my side, as the gates opened, my destiny awaited.  

The Hoshigaki had to remove himself from the action here and take a breath.  Mijon was still a boy and he was able to accept such a burden because he had honour to defend.  It was not only his honour, but that of all those who had fought and died before him, and all those who would fight and die after him.  Jäger believed that he could one day possess the will power to achieve such greatness, he already had something to fight and stake his honour upon, he just needed to grow strong enough to rise to the occasion.  Unlike his newly discovered hero, his training had not been so harsh and in depth, and he was certainly going to need to do a little more work in order to keep up.  Quite content with this realization, he turned his attention to the pages once more.  

[Jäger Beschützer]

5/7

The great shark had been reading this lengthy book for some time now, and was slowly making his way through the tome.  The action had become paramount; the intensity of which was second only to the emotional hell that the hero Mijon had been dragged through.  Any character of less spirit would have been crushed by the horrors of the war and they would have grown spiteful and rich with hatred, but he did not, with each discouraging loss faced by his army, he had been capable of inspiring the faith of his men with his speeches of honour and remaining steadfast in the face of death.  It was not because of his words alone though, though those did inspire fervor.  The once lowly noble had become a brave fighter, who marched on the front lines with his men, battling with them, risking his life with them.  He had quickly earned a reputation in the opposing army too, as his name would make the men nervous due to the effectiveness of his strategies.

The young noble had proven himself a tactician without peer, as he was capable of leading an army that was less than half the size of his opponent, and put forth plans that allowed their smaller numbers to be played to their advantage.  This was not to say the battles were won by these tactics, but they reduced causalities and maximized their damage.  Normally Jager would not have praised a war lord, but everything that Mijon did, he did so to try and keep his men alive and to get them back to their families.  This in itself was enough to draw the affection of the large fishman, and he had become quite emotionally invested in the tales within the leather bound grimoire.  The approach to battle that he was learning from these pages was to strike swiftly and with great power, but be mindful of those that you fight to protect.  To use ones abilities to cause death to protect loved ones was okay, but should only be done when there were no other options.  

Various times throughout the book had Mijon attempted to call upon the leaders of the other army in order to attempt a truce between the warring factions; but each times the messengers had been sent back in pieces.  In the latest pages, a messenger had come back in one piece with a message of agreement that the war should be ending soon.  This gave Mijon great hope for the future, and he had quickly called together a meeting in neutral ground where the other generals had laid a trap for him and taken him and his top men captive.  His army, without the talented leadership had no choice but to retreat back to their camps and wait for their inevitable destruction.  It was at this point that Jager had ceased his reading to do other things for a while, but the lessons he learned from the tale always managed to find their way into his choices, making him think a little more about what he was doing, and how it affected things.  

Though the great whale shark already thought of himself as a rather honourable man, and quite protective of his friends, he was rather selfish with whom he allowed himself to feel protective for.  If he truly wished to be as selfless and as noble as Mijon, then he would have to swear upon himself that he would protect all those who were innocent and facing tyranny.  It seemed like an overwhelmingly large responsibility for one man to adhere to, but if he simply acted righteously when the situation called for it, maybe his selfless actions would be able to inspire others as the actions of Mijon had inspired his.  If everyone began to act a little more harmonious with their peers, perhaps there would be no more wars where one man needed to sacrifice everything in order to bring a little peace to the people who inhabited the same world.  He cracked the spine of the tome with his large hand, the pages spilling open, the small piece of decorated cardboard ensuring the pages would be open to where he left off.  

[Jäger Beschützer]

6/7

Mijon stood amongst his top ten men, confident that what they were about to do would change their world for the better.  The men looked unnecessarily uncomfortable around him, and they spoke of treachery, though it was difficult for the Noble-turned-Warlord to grasp that not everyone involved would want peace.  He needed to give them a chance to stop this madness and allow everyone to walk away from the war.  All of the generals were armed and armored, even against the recommendations of their leader, who wore his ebony armor, but lacked a weapon or helm to show that he was truly ready to commit to peace.  Their meeting had been arranged in neutral grounds, which in this case happened to be the land of wind, in a small desert village by the name of Andesù where there could be no militarization and neither side could bring more than a small garrison of guards.  The heat and the anticipation was capable of affecting even a man as stoic as the warrior noble.

The grains of sand buzzed as a slow heartbeat emerged from the desert, rhythmic and steady.  None of the village understood, and even Mijon and his captains were confused by the sudden awakening of the desert floor, but it soon dawned upon them the heartbeat was the sound of thousands of footsteps marching in the desert, and even the fluid-like sand was not loose enough to prevent the sounds of so many feet from carrying.  The roaring of the voices began to emerge, with no line of sight, the horde sounded like a demonic wind as the heartbeat of the desert grew ever louder, but remained beating at the same slow marching pace.  With his own army having been garrisoned across the border, there was little question that escape was not possible, as scouts were being spotted in their rear, having circled around and cut them off.  Unquestionably, they were doomed to be captured, and it was all the fault of the naivety that the young warrior carried upon his shoulder.  He had opened his heart and trusted those who could not be trusted.

Stricken with grief and wrath, he watched with silent desperation as his enemies marched over the hills, the usual colors mixed in with those of the land of wind.  How much had the people of Sunagakure been paid to aid such atrocities?  Their neutrality in the war had been compromised for tokens and stones, their morals purchased and controlled.  Mijon did not want to believe that strength of heart was a purchasable commodity, nor did he want to allow himself to think that the people he so desperately tried to protect would easily turn against him for a price.  If it were not for his ten guards, he would have fallen to his knees and begun to pray for those whose spirits had been crushed by the indomitable force, then swept up and conditioned to believe what these petty men told them to believe.  A ruler should not be someone who lords their power and riches over others until all follow, that was the definition of a tyrant, and that was something he refused to allow to stand.  

The generals descended upon him and his men, who readied their weapons, but then allowed them to fall by their sides as Mijon signaled for it.  Fighting here was useless, as they were the minds behind their force, to die here would mean an end to their revolution, but to allow themselves to be captured meant that they could live to fight another day.  Placed in bonds and then caged, the revolutionary leaders were dragged away through the desert and caged in the deepest depths of the Sunagakure prisons, awaiting trials.  Though things felt hopeless, Mijon did not allow his spirit to be crushed, nor did he allow his men to give up, before they were separated and tortured, he swore to them that they would escape, and that losing heart meant death.  Even in the face of death, a man was required to be strong, to not shirk his duty and let those who depended on him fall with him, a man rose up from the ashes of his pride and fought until he could no longer swing a weapon.  His words were capable of keeping the fire in their hearts alive, and kept the men fighting alongside him in spirit.  Though their bodies were not near, their hearts all beat as one.  

[Jäger Beschützer]

7/7

Jäger was not certain that he would want to finish the tome in his large hands.  The last eighty of so pages were daunting him, making him wish that he had read the story a little more slowly and with greater care.  Not that it would have changed anything, although the large fishman was capable of reading quite quickly, he took in all the information presented, reading it slowly would have gave him no extra enjoyment of the pages.  Here he was, so close to the end, elated to discover the heroics of Mijon, but slightly sad that he had come to the end of such a fantastic story.  The tome would go on the shelf in his home for him to reread as often as he pleased, and though it would be some time before he had forgotten enough of the words of the story to want to go back to read it, he knew he would one day do so.  Sighing, he opened the leatherbound cover and opened the pages to where he had left his book mark.

Night had fallen upon the camp, and though it had been months since they had been captured, and much of their own force had been eradicated, Mijon had not given up, and had slowly managed to pass his message along to all of his accomplices in order for them to achieve their escape tonight.  Much of the prison was electric with anticipation of a riot that the Warlord and his men had been inciting, many of the guards watched their charges with great trepidation.  This was the perfect night, as most of the army had gone out to hunt the remnants of his forces, meaning that it was a skeleton crew, and for some reason, the generals that had stayed behind in the camp.  It was not all twelve of the men, but there were at least eight of them according to his spies in the prison yard.  Eight of them was enough for him to leave a message that would have an impact.  

The tower that rose above the prison containing the ceremonial would be lit soon, the heavy gong up there was being struck.  It was almost ten at night, meaning they would light it so that if the army was returning, they would have a signal.  As the tenth strike rang loudly and cleanly, the fire would have been lit by the torches of the guard.  As the song of the heavy brass instrument still reverberated throughout the camp, an explosion rocked the tower, splintering the wood and cracking the stone, sending debris flying throughout the town and prison.  Large rocks crushed portions of the gate, freeing the prisoners, who howled with the pure exultation of freedom, and the criminals and imprisoned soldiers and political prisoners poured through the broken fences, attacking the closest guards and tearing the place apart.  Mijon was single minded though, he had some men to see before he made his escape.  

Moving through the camp swiftly and quietly, he found his guards and together they swiftly hunted down the generals and struck them down, knowing no peace could come from leaving them alive to get their revenge.  Though he did not enjoy it, they had given him no other choices.  With them alive, they would continue to ravage his lands and people until he was no longer able to protect them.  With the deaths of these generals, and the message scrawled in blood across the jet Torii at the entrance to the small town they had taken, the generals would think twice about attacking again.  The armory and the supplies were pillaged, and like a receding tide, the men swept from the desecrated town, fleeing back to their homeland, or else following Mijon and his guards to greater glory.  Their travel home was unimpeded, and there was no word from the opposing warlords until a messenger was sent amongst their midst, offering peace and begging Mijon to forgive them.  The treaty was signed, and Mijon was celebrated by people all throughout the province.