Yeah, I've started writing again. This one is set in Feudal Japan (yeah, I know, cliche) and is fairly realistic. While I am including supernatural elements, I'm trying to keep it to the point where it theoretically could have happened, if that makes any sense. So, this is what I've got so far:
Makai Ninsoku
A lengthy stream of curses emerged from Ginou’s mouth as he observed the situation before him. Behind him stood his small group of samurai: masters of the Itto-ryu Kenjutsu School of swordsmanship, some of the best warriors to walk Japan. Yet skill would inevitably give way to overwhelming numbers, and the amount of soldiers approaching bested his squad hundredfold. They had no choice but to flee…and yet Ginou knew the cliff they stood on was the last boundary separating the barbaric revolutionaries from Soukutsu, the home of the Shogun himself. Taking it would be a key point in letting Japan succumb to the ways of those cursed Westerners, and allowing this to happen pained Ginou. But he couldn’t allow his men to die.
“Sir? You aren’t planning on retreating, are you?” Ginou turned to see Seijun, one of the samurai who he knew only due to his personal crusade to know the name of each of his men.
“We have no choice.” Ginou replied curtly. “These men would overtake us.”
“But then they could go straight to Soukutsu, and it’s too large to possibly defend!”
“Well, what do you want us to do? Kill them here? How would that be possible?!”
A knowing smile spread across Seijun’s face. “Easy.” He gestured toward a small spot below, where the cliff walls thinned as the path upward started to form. “Go there.”
“What would that do for us?” Ginou asked irritably.
“Well, we’re Itto-ryu Kenjutsu samurai, far more skilled then,” Seijun’s face adopted a scowl as he pointed at the onrushing fighters, “those. So, if we can hold the bottleneck, their numbers don’t matter, because so few of them can reach us.”
“That’s brilliant!” Ginou exclaimed in a rather un-general like way. He reassessed the situation. “But how will get men there before the rebels come?”
“Simple.” Seijun bent his legs and jumped to the awaiting ground 60 feet below, landing unscathed.
“Kids got guts.” Zetsumei drew his jet black katana, and a feral smile crossed his lips as he leapt to join Seijun. That sealed it for Ginou: While he didn’t know Seijun’s skill in a fight, Zetsumei reveled in battle, and had easily killed more in battle then any other of Ginou’s squad.
After taking a breath for composure, Ginou began barking orders. “Alright, Kesshi, take your squad and jump down with Zetsumei and Seijun. 2 dozen of you go down the path and bolster Kesshi and the rest. Everyone else, rotate with those in battle. Anyone with medical training, stand back and save as many as you can!”
Kesshi gave a slight nod as he and the five samurai Ginou had given to Kesshi to command ran down the stone face of the cliff. While Kesshi was skilled in battle (though not on Zetsumei’s level), his real strength was in his charisma. He gave courage to fighters, courage that had them fighting when all seemed lost, courage that, along with Zetsumei’s skill, made Ginou’s Squad one of the most feared legions of samurai.
The 2 dozen men had barely made it when the enemy was on them, blades drawn. But the first blood was spilled by Zetsumei, cutting through three in one swipe of his fearsome blade, Karite. Kesshi was in the fray immediately as well, separating foes with tantalizing feints suggesting weakness before neatly decapitating the misled soldiers. Even Seijun artfully dispatched several of the opposing fighters, although he tended to stay behind the brunt of the battle in order to properly survey the situation.
From his high canyon perch, Ginou watched the massacre, realizing with growing joy Seijun’s plan had merit. While he internally screamed as each one of his samurai was cleaved in two, or bled to death beyond the help of the healers, they were winning. The enemy had quickly realized Zetsumei was the biggest threat, and focused their efforts at him. Time after time again, Ginou panicked as the mass of the invaders swallowed Zetsumei…but each time, Karite spun around, Zetsumei was unharmed, and another dozen bodies littered the ground. There were so many bodies, in fact, that they were piled into a makeshift barrier in order to further narrow the battleground.
Zetsumei was still going strong in the front lines, while Kesshi formed the center of a circle of samurai expertly cleaning through a group of foes. And Seijun…Seijun was in the back, darting for samurai to samurai and whispering some sort of plan. Evidently, he had spoken to them all, for he dashed onto the winding path leading up to Ginou’s watch area.
Makai Ninsoku
A lengthy stream of curses emerged from Ginou’s mouth as he observed the situation before him. Behind him stood his small group of samurai: masters of the Itto-ryu Kenjutsu School of swordsmanship, some of the best warriors to walk Japan. Yet skill would inevitably give way to overwhelming numbers, and the amount of soldiers approaching bested his squad hundredfold. They had no choice but to flee…and yet Ginou knew the cliff they stood on was the last boundary separating the barbaric revolutionaries from Soukutsu, the home of the Shogun himself. Taking it would be a key point in letting Japan succumb to the ways of those cursed Westerners, and allowing this to happen pained Ginou. But he couldn’t allow his men to die.
“Sir? You aren’t planning on retreating, are you?” Ginou turned to see Seijun, one of the samurai who he knew only due to his personal crusade to know the name of each of his men.
“We have no choice.” Ginou replied curtly. “These men would overtake us.”
“But then they could go straight to Soukutsu, and it’s too large to possibly defend!”
“Well, what do you want us to do? Kill them here? How would that be possible?!”
A knowing smile spread across Seijun’s face. “Easy.” He gestured toward a small spot below, where the cliff walls thinned as the path upward started to form. “Go there.”
“What would that do for us?” Ginou asked irritably.
“Well, we’re Itto-ryu Kenjutsu samurai, far more skilled then,” Seijun’s face adopted a scowl as he pointed at the onrushing fighters, “those. So, if we can hold the bottleneck, their numbers don’t matter, because so few of them can reach us.”
“That’s brilliant!” Ginou exclaimed in a rather un-general like way. He reassessed the situation. “But how will get men there before the rebels come?”
“Simple.” Seijun bent his legs and jumped to the awaiting ground 60 feet below, landing unscathed.
“Kids got guts.” Zetsumei drew his jet black katana, and a feral smile crossed his lips as he leapt to join Seijun. That sealed it for Ginou: While he didn’t know Seijun’s skill in a fight, Zetsumei reveled in battle, and had easily killed more in battle then any other of Ginou’s squad.
After taking a breath for composure, Ginou began barking orders. “Alright, Kesshi, take your squad and jump down with Zetsumei and Seijun. 2 dozen of you go down the path and bolster Kesshi and the rest. Everyone else, rotate with those in battle. Anyone with medical training, stand back and save as many as you can!”
Kesshi gave a slight nod as he and the five samurai Ginou had given to Kesshi to command ran down the stone face of the cliff. While Kesshi was skilled in battle (though not on Zetsumei’s level), his real strength was in his charisma. He gave courage to fighters, courage that had them fighting when all seemed lost, courage that, along with Zetsumei’s skill, made Ginou’s Squad one of the most feared legions of samurai.
The 2 dozen men had barely made it when the enemy was on them, blades drawn. But the first blood was spilled by Zetsumei, cutting through three in one swipe of his fearsome blade, Karite. Kesshi was in the fray immediately as well, separating foes with tantalizing feints suggesting weakness before neatly decapitating the misled soldiers. Even Seijun artfully dispatched several of the opposing fighters, although he tended to stay behind the brunt of the battle in order to properly survey the situation.
From his high canyon perch, Ginou watched the massacre, realizing with growing joy Seijun’s plan had merit. While he internally screamed as each one of his samurai was cleaved in two, or bled to death beyond the help of the healers, they were winning. The enemy had quickly realized Zetsumei was the biggest threat, and focused their efforts at him. Time after time again, Ginou panicked as the mass of the invaders swallowed Zetsumei…but each time, Karite spun around, Zetsumei was unharmed, and another dozen bodies littered the ground. There were so many bodies, in fact, that they were piled into a makeshift barrier in order to further narrow the battleground.
Zetsumei was still going strong in the front lines, while Kesshi formed the center of a circle of samurai expertly cleaning through a group of foes. And Seijun…Seijun was in the back, darting for samurai to samurai and whispering some sort of plan. Evidently, he had spoken to them all, for he dashed onto the winding path leading up to Ginou’s watch area.
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