Post by Trouza on Dec 16, 2016 13:47:06 GMT -5
Nightfall often brings cold winds and tranquil skies especially in the countryside, untouched by the major domed towns of the west. Out in the south, the sea breeze is a lullaby for its inhabitants who are used to the striking waves hammering against the shoreline in an endless battle.
On this day however, in one particular village, there was a festival that lit up the night and kept the townsfolk celebrating. For them, it was a festival to honor the bountiful catch of the season, and they celebrated with plenty of fish and ale. Though there were few large towns in this area of Earth II, its inhabitants developed their own sense of culture and pride separate from the busy city folk of other regions, and this celebration was one of them. One particular traveller was quite fond of the occassion and would be seen munching and drinking away the night. Trouza, an obscure martial artist and pilgrim was, for the first time in years, back in the islands after traveling. The first thing he visited of course, was the delicacies of his homeland which he had missed sorely. Various fishes, squid and shrimps and shells; stewed in yams or grilled to a charry texture, all of these were the food he had missed sorely.
Trouza has been travelling for around 4 years now since he left his family and turned to a new leaf. Once a wastrel, he had dedicated his life to travelling the land and learning martial arts, visiting schools and helping out the villages he encountered along the way. However, thoughts of home haunted Trouza's mind. He hasn't met a challenge in years, often defeating the bandits, beasts or other villains he encountered with ease. He was getting nowhere to finding the Crane School Master as well, and he had to self-teach himself most basic ki techniques and martial arts most of the time, at a slow pace. Back at home under his gangster father's graces, he was treated like some royalty, living in the lap of luxury. Maids and maidens both came running to his every need, and if ever there was a problem with someone all he had to do was send his father’s hitmen to take care of it. Was life really easier then? Would he have been happy being a gangster underling under his father? He was pretty sure however that his father Slack wasn't all too happy, as often he encountered hitmen who would try to beat him up often met with failure. Trouza sunk deeper into contemplation as the years went by, often turning to strong alcohol that prevented him to focus on his task at hand. The night wasn't any different.
Sitting alongside the rest of the villagers but drinking by himself, a group of tough guys in martial arts gi started getting louder and louder as the night went on. Overhearing them, Trouza would learn that they were of the famed 'Crane School', or at least claimed to be, and were trying to impress the women of the town. While he knew true students would not display such undisciplined behavior, he tried to ignore the students, until finally they got rough with one of the married women who rejected what appeared to be the leader's advances.
Angered by the boisterous brutes harassing the villagers, Trouza got up and interrupted.
"Fellas, can't we keep this a happy occassion? We're celebrating here." Trouza tried to reason with his suave accent. He wasn't trying to start a fight... yet, but if it came to that, he was ready.
"Buzz off, little man!" The brigand bellowed with a shove, sending the unprepared Trouza back a few steps. Trouza, already drunk, unfocused and uncharacteristically angry, came back at the man and shoved harder, with little effect.
"Before I beat you to a pulp, try again. I am the Crane School Master, fool!" Trouza, buzzed and walking slowly, leaned on the man again with his right hand and stuck two fingers in the man's gut with the left.
"You're a disgrace. Shotgun!" as Trouza shouted, a small ki ball appeared in front of his fingers and as quickly as it enlarged, like a water hose full of pressure, the ki ball exploded in front of the tough guy, sending him back quite across several tables until stopping at a wall. Drunkenly looking at the man's underlyings, they all fled at once before Trouza himself fell unconscious from too much drinking.
Next morning without any recall of the events from last night, he woke up in a rough sandstone bed. The first thing he saw with his hazy vision was the woman he stood up for and and a little boy washing dishes from a sink. The boy was the first to notice Trouza waking up and tugged at what appears to be his mother’s dress.
"Well, you’re awake." The woman quipped with a smile.
All Trouza could do was smile back. He was recalled the night's events and he knew what he fought for; the innocent villagers, the honor of the Crane School, and the strength he had been honing for several years now. He came to the realization that what he was looking for during his years-long pilgrimage for strength and power will not end any time soon, but he had gone quite a long way now. There would be more threats, definitely tougher than the brutes last night, and there are even more powerful beings and creatures beyond the stars. It won’t always be the same chores and weak enemies, and every inch of training would matter in the long run. He was wasted, but also excited. Maybe he would find the masters he so long promised himself back then to train under, or pay a visit to South City and find out abput his father's wishes. Whatever he was planning, the whole world just got a little bigger. Renewed in his thirst for martial knowledge and training, Trouza's quest for self-improvement begins anew.
Little did he know that the night before, in the distance behind one of the houses, a hooded man was observing, and trouble would come to him sooner than he thought.
On this day however, in one particular village, there was a festival that lit up the night and kept the townsfolk celebrating. For them, it was a festival to honor the bountiful catch of the season, and they celebrated with plenty of fish and ale. Though there were few large towns in this area of Earth II, its inhabitants developed their own sense of culture and pride separate from the busy city folk of other regions, and this celebration was one of them. One particular traveller was quite fond of the occassion and would be seen munching and drinking away the night. Trouza, an obscure martial artist and pilgrim was, for the first time in years, back in the islands after traveling. The first thing he visited of course, was the delicacies of his homeland which he had missed sorely. Various fishes, squid and shrimps and shells; stewed in yams or grilled to a charry texture, all of these were the food he had missed sorely.
Trouza has been travelling for around 4 years now since he left his family and turned to a new leaf. Once a wastrel, he had dedicated his life to travelling the land and learning martial arts, visiting schools and helping out the villages he encountered along the way. However, thoughts of home haunted Trouza's mind. He hasn't met a challenge in years, often defeating the bandits, beasts or other villains he encountered with ease. He was getting nowhere to finding the Crane School Master as well, and he had to self-teach himself most basic ki techniques and martial arts most of the time, at a slow pace. Back at home under his gangster father's graces, he was treated like some royalty, living in the lap of luxury. Maids and maidens both came running to his every need, and if ever there was a problem with someone all he had to do was send his father’s hitmen to take care of it. Was life really easier then? Would he have been happy being a gangster underling under his father? He was pretty sure however that his father Slack wasn't all too happy, as often he encountered hitmen who would try to beat him up often met with failure. Trouza sunk deeper into contemplation as the years went by, often turning to strong alcohol that prevented him to focus on his task at hand. The night wasn't any different.
Sitting alongside the rest of the villagers but drinking by himself, a group of tough guys in martial arts gi started getting louder and louder as the night went on. Overhearing them, Trouza would learn that they were of the famed 'Crane School', or at least claimed to be, and were trying to impress the women of the town. While he knew true students would not display such undisciplined behavior, he tried to ignore the students, until finally they got rough with one of the married women who rejected what appeared to be the leader's advances.
Angered by the boisterous brutes harassing the villagers, Trouza got up and interrupted.
"Fellas, can't we keep this a happy occassion? We're celebrating here." Trouza tried to reason with his suave accent. He wasn't trying to start a fight... yet, but if it came to that, he was ready.
"Buzz off, little man!" The brigand bellowed with a shove, sending the unprepared Trouza back a few steps. Trouza, already drunk, unfocused and uncharacteristically angry, came back at the man and shoved harder, with little effect.
"Before I beat you to a pulp, try again. I am the Crane School Master, fool!" Trouza, buzzed and walking slowly, leaned on the man again with his right hand and stuck two fingers in the man's gut with the left.
"You're a disgrace. Shotgun!" as Trouza shouted, a small ki ball appeared in front of his fingers and as quickly as it enlarged, like a water hose full of pressure, the ki ball exploded in front of the tough guy, sending him back quite across several tables until stopping at a wall. Drunkenly looking at the man's underlyings, they all fled at once before Trouza himself fell unconscious from too much drinking.
Next morning without any recall of the events from last night, he woke up in a rough sandstone bed. The first thing he saw with his hazy vision was the woman he stood up for and and a little boy washing dishes from a sink. The boy was the first to notice Trouza waking up and tugged at what appears to be his mother’s dress.
"Well, you’re awake." The woman quipped with a smile.
All Trouza could do was smile back. He was recalled the night's events and he knew what he fought for; the innocent villagers, the honor of the Crane School, and the strength he had been honing for several years now. He came to the realization that what he was looking for during his years-long pilgrimage for strength and power will not end any time soon, but he had gone quite a long way now. There would be more threats, definitely tougher than the brutes last night, and there are even more powerful beings and creatures beyond the stars. It won’t always be the same chores and weak enemies, and every inch of training would matter in the long run. He was wasted, but also excited. Maybe he would find the masters he so long promised himself back then to train under, or pay a visit to South City and find out abput his father's wishes. Whatever he was planning, the whole world just got a little bigger. Renewed in his thirst for martial knowledge and training, Trouza's quest for self-improvement begins anew.
Little did he know that the night before, in the distance behind one of the houses, a hooded man was observing, and trouble would come to him sooner than he thought.
Status
SP POST
[Thread EXP: 0]
[Thread Power Level: 100]
[Dice: 2d20]
[Tags: N/A]
SP POST
[Thread EXP: 0]
[Thread Power Level: 100]
[Dice: 2d20]
[Tags: N/A]