HHHHAAAIIIIIIII!!
The rainfall from the sky in sheets but war waits for no one, especially a war fueled by vengeance and hatred. Hundreds of samurai cavalry thunder toward the No-Dachis drawn. The armor of these samurai is crimson red, telling their allegiance on sight. The banner bearers among the cavalry fly the black dragon of the Kurita Clan. The sky rains arrows on both side of them. Some cavalry fall off their war mounts. The Akechi peasant conscripts armed only with sharpened bamboo spears begin to falter and rout. Some conscripts are cut down by the Akechi samurai in a line behind them, other drop dead from the hail of arrows. Those that stay brace themselves for the coming death. The line of cavalry meets the conscripts with a crash. Some horses are impaled by a lucky planted spear, most peasants die where they stand as the No-Dachi reach down and cut them in two. The cavalry decimate the conscripts and charge on to the real target, the Akechi archers.
The scene of carnage zooms away to where Minobu sits in his Ancestral armor. His father wore it the night he was born, this was also the night he was forced into exile. Minobu’s dying father took him to a Spiral Cat dojo, more commonly known as the ninja. Akechi did not know of his birth, and secret that the Kurita Blood was not destroyed died with Minobu’s father. This was also the night Minobu discovered his gift, or burden. Minobu’s father did not pass on to the next life. His burning hatred for Akechi bound him to the earth. Minobu had the mystical ability to hear the dead whispers and shrieks.
Minobu directs the battle according to the teachings of Sun-Tzu. He gives out orders, trying to adapt to the enemies battle plan as best he can. His father spies on the enemy general’s plans and movements giving him the advantage his smaller clan needs to overcome attrition. Still the price today in men will be high, those cavalry an unfortunate gambit. He watches the Akechi samurai on foot beginning to encircle the unit of cavalry. Loyal servants to The Dragon, they will die fighting and without question. The Akechi archers have been killed for the most part before the foot solders close the loop. The doomed Kurita Samurai die, taking as many foot solders with them into Hell. He can sense his father near, in a rare shot of force he can feel an armored hand touch his skin through the armor.
The ground is wet with pinkish mud, blood rivers begin to flow into the lower areas of the battlefield. These rivers begin to unnaturally flow into a circle pattern in the middle of the battlefield. The sounds and smells of the battle begin to fade. Minobu looks to the right to reveal his father, the face is obstructed by a Tengu Mask. Minobu never saw his father’s face. The blood begins to make a pentagram as the world fades into a black void. The center of the pentagram falls away into a bright nothingness. The smell of rain and rot dissipated into the stink of brimstone. A column of green hellfire shoots from the pentagram, and a well dressed man emerges. His commanding features demand respect and awe. He approaches in terrifying calm. Minobu looks to the right again, where his father was. His Sire, Paul Night has replaced his father. He looks back to this harbinger of temptation, the man who can with but a whim return Minobu to the cycle of death and rebirth or a worse realm. With a grin and a motion the well dressed man produces a contract, the stationary the dead skin of a martyr and inked in the blood of a new born babe. It is in flawless Japanese, and Minobu understands. Minobu pricks a finger with a tooth and inches closer to signing the infernal contract. The demon man’s form switches to a more recent one, Zach Goodman. His commanding voice urges him to take it. Minobu looks back to the hands of Zach Goodman. It is now a chalice, a vaulderie chalice filled with the dead vitae of Kindred. Minobu takes the chalice and greedily devours the potent mixture. Zach Goodman laughs, the laughing warps into the deep laughter that escaped from the demon as he was sent back to Hell on the sword of a Kindred from the east. Zach Goodman jams his other hand into Minobu’s chest. Hellfire burns his soul as he can feel the white hot grasp close around his heart. Minobu stares into the dead eyes of Zach Goodman, only the green hellfire of infernalism glimmer back. Goodman begins to withdraw his hand, Minobu can see what he knows to be his own soul begins to distort and leave his body.
Minobu wakes up and in a fury of motion he grasps his katana and lashes out at the phantasm. He is back in his haven. Zach has been dead for months. The fire of arthritis burns in his legs, spine and arms. He looks to his right, where Leelu sleeps the sleep of the dead. It is rare for her to spend a night with her pack. Gage is off somewhere and only shows up for Esbat. Crispin is dead and that Nosferatu is missing. Minobu sheaths his katana using proper sword etiquette. The ranks of his pack are thin. We are the ones proven most resilient, he thinks to himself. He looks at a small digital clock in the room, 3:27 PM, dusk in a few hours. He sets his sword in his customary paranoid position, next to his bed mat. He disregards the dream and the pain and returns to the cold sleep of death.
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