Yamatai
Blackport Prefecture
Flames
YE 39
The head of the fledgling samurai clan that was traveling through Flames looked about the inner halls of a Shinto shrine with a light in her grey eyes. She wore yukata and hakama, black on bottom and white top, with her gold hilted katana and dark beige geta sandals and black tabi socks. The Zesu swords at her obi belt swung as she looked around the room she was in. Her kusarigama sickle blades were sequestered away as though they were the symbol of the samurai's fledgling clan, the sickles were rarely seen outside of sigils and practice.
"I have been led to believe..." Kuro began. Her name meant black and though her dark teal hair, fair skin, and grey eyes were not black, the forcefulness of the color, the resilience and inherent drive to it was something she did not lack. "I have been led to believe there is a castle north of Lorrheim... One that this temple practitioners once worshipped at." Acquiring a place of practice for her own practitioners, those fledgling samurai currently milling about the temple and town while Kuro spoke to the quasi temple's caretaker was her prime mission and it was apparent.
The Shinto practitioner gave a wan smile, saying, "There is something I know about that, but going there directly will yield more answers than I can give, I'm afraid."
Kuro nodded solemnly and looked about the room with her peripheral vision.
"Can you tell me more about what is it this temple practices?" Kuro asked as she took a step back. She looked up and around herself, hand still on a golden hilt.
"Shintoism is a belief that the kami of our past and present inhabit this world as entities with forces powerful and that necessitate respect, but that is my own interpretation," they said. "I feel like some prayer would work well for you, samurai."
The samurai head smiled now that she had been informed and bowed politely, then answered the latter statement, "But of course.
"Arigatou gozaimasu," the ex-Ketsurui samurai said at the Shinto temple's entrance with her back to the outside world a few minutes later. She then bowed and turned back around, facing the town of Flames.
A soft wind brushed over her black and white clothing and one hand clung to the gold and black hilt of her katana. The tsuba's etching of flames caught her interest as she took a step away from the temple of interest and to the steamy and sizzling food district where she suspected many clan members of being. A few were visiting the other torii gates that had been erected around and behind the Shinto shrine.
One such samurai emerged from a nearby mossy pathway that, though winding, led parallel to the shrine. Behind them walked a long black haired and crimson eyed counterpart to the samurai who wore the same yukata and hakama of the other Danko members. This Neko, effeminate as he was, wore black jeans and a leather belt with a chrome, small buckle and a form-fitting black v-neck. His shoes were the nicest thing he wore next to his own demeanor.
He smiled politely at Kuro and waved, then bowed before raising again, "May I train with you, Sensei?"
"Of course, we will outfit you and work with you once we make it to the castle." she asked.
"Yukiko has told me everything," the Neko man said. "I will be happy to be under your guidance."
"I am Kuro," she said with a light bow.
"Koga Akemi," the Neko man said with a grin. He opened his mouth to say more but Yukiko coughed and pursed her pink lips and her sea foam green curly bob cut hair bowed towards Kuro.
The head of the clan let her ashy eyes fall on the other samurai, who asked, "What will it be about the castle?"
Kuro answered, "The castle is something that still remains a mystery."
"At times," the trainee said. "I think that is the way you like it."
Blackport Prefecture
Flames
YE 39
The head of the fledgling samurai clan that was traveling through Flames looked about the inner halls of a Shinto shrine with a light in her grey eyes. She wore yukata and hakama, black on bottom and white top, with her gold hilted katana and dark beige geta sandals and black tabi socks. The Zesu swords at her obi belt swung as she looked around the room she was in. Her kusarigama sickle blades were sequestered away as though they were the symbol of the samurai's fledgling clan, the sickles were rarely seen outside of sigils and practice.
"I have been led to believe..." Kuro began. Her name meant black and though her dark teal hair, fair skin, and grey eyes were not black, the forcefulness of the color, the resilience and inherent drive to it was something she did not lack. "I have been led to believe there is a castle north of Lorrheim... One that this temple practitioners once worshipped at." Acquiring a place of practice for her own practitioners, those fledgling samurai currently milling about the temple and town while Kuro spoke to the quasi temple's caretaker was her prime mission and it was apparent.
The Shinto practitioner gave a wan smile, saying, "There is something I know about that, but going there directly will yield more answers than I can give, I'm afraid."
Kuro nodded solemnly and looked about the room with her peripheral vision.
"Can you tell me more about what is it this temple practices?" Kuro asked as she took a step back. She looked up and around herself, hand still on a golden hilt.
"Shintoism is a belief that the kami of our past and present inhabit this world as entities with forces powerful and that necessitate respect, but that is my own interpretation," they said. "I feel like some prayer would work well for you, samurai."
The samurai head smiled now that she had been informed and bowed politely, then answered the latter statement, "But of course.
"Arigatou gozaimasu," the ex-Ketsurui samurai said at the Shinto temple's entrance with her back to the outside world a few minutes later. She then bowed and turned back around, facing the town of Flames.
A soft wind brushed over her black and white clothing and one hand clung to the gold and black hilt of her katana. The tsuba's etching of flames caught her interest as she took a step away from the temple of interest and to the steamy and sizzling food district where she suspected many clan members of being. A few were visiting the other torii gates that had been erected around and behind the Shinto shrine.
One such samurai emerged from a nearby mossy pathway that, though winding, led parallel to the shrine. Behind them walked a long black haired and crimson eyed counterpart to the samurai who wore the same yukata and hakama of the other Danko members. This Neko, effeminate as he was, wore black jeans and a leather belt with a chrome, small buckle and a form-fitting black v-neck. His shoes were the nicest thing he wore next to his own demeanor.
He smiled politely at Kuro and waved, then bowed before raising again, "May I train with you, Sensei?"
"Of course, we will outfit you and work with you once we make it to the castle." she asked.
"Yukiko has told me everything," the Neko man said. "I will be happy to be under your guidance."
"I am Kuro," she said with a light bow.
"Koga Akemi," the Neko man said with a grin. He opened his mouth to say more but Yukiko coughed and pursed her pink lips and her sea foam green curly bob cut hair bowed towards Kuro.
The head of the clan let her ashy eyes fall on the other samurai, who asked, "What will it be about the castle?"
Kuro answered, "The castle is something that still remains a mystery."
"At times," the trainee said. "I think that is the way you like it."