Masanori The Ronin[Ze Blitzkrieg]

[Hazard1325]

A Brief Introduction...

For the past forty years the Hirose Shogunate has thrown the realms into chaos as a brutal succession war rages through the lands. Sokoku, the home isles, have stretched their resources thin trying to maintain their hold over foreign claims and now regional warlords have emerged to fight amongst each other for supremacy. Some wish to restore balance to the realms while others are more concerned with their own personal power. The three great clans Hirose, Anno, and Akahoshi currently hold the most influence over Sokoku and its greatest prize the Raganzu Empire but with more claimants rising up every year its unclear when this bloody conflict will end or who will emerge victorious.

Character Sheet

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Name: Yashiro Masanori
Age: 26
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Profession: Ronin
Appearance:

Background: Born the first son to a minor, but old clan of samurai who found service for generations under the Wakimoto clan, Masanori was a promising young warrior from the time he picked up a bamboo blade. Talented in martial pursuits and stubborn as a mountain boar, the belligerent samurai managed to work his way into the service of his lord Santomo soon after coming of age, but found little solace in working as a manslayer for a madman bereft of honor. After carrying out atrocity after atrocity in the name of his lord, he could stomach staining his blade with the blood of the innocent no longer, and chose to disgrace himself by abandoning his post and becoming a wandering sword-for-hire, subsisting off whatever work his skills could earn him in a nation where they were increasingly in demand.
Kinks: Big cock, large insertion, large cumshot, cockworship, ahegao, MILFs, sub/dom, fit/muscular girls, harem, voyeurism, seduction, traps
Turn Offs: Vore, ovipositors, bathroom stuff, egg laying, heavy bondage

---

The Boat

The roar of ocean swelled and Masanori rocked onboard the deck of the small junk. His vision was blurry and the ocean smelled wrong, too much blood and smoke. He clung to the railing as the noise roared in his ears, where was Sokoku among the waves? His clans ancestral homelands awaited him but this noise and heat was in his way. Why weren't his limbs working? Reaching towards his stomach he found his hand came away sticky as a red blur in his sight. There was a brief sensation of vertigo as the sky and ground seemed to fight one another before his gaze. Then cold shock and a feeling of sinking ever deeper. Somehow he still heard the waves growing louder and louder until his head throbbed and the water began to boil.

"Airi! Watch his head!"

Masanori felt the sudden splash of fresh cool water hit him and his eyes blinked open to reality. A thin peasant woman was struggling with a bucket of water while an elderly man behind her tried to right her steps. More of the water splashed out over his body and there was a tight pain in his abs as he tried to move. Where was the boat? That didn't seem right. He was inland last time he checked there were no boats for a hundred miles at least. He was naked apart from the blankets over his body and he didn't recognize the small shack around him or the pair that were either trying to drown him or simply fumbling in their efforts to care for him.

"I'm sorry uncle. I slipped. His fever broke last night but his wound stinks I was just going to wash it- HE MOVED!"

The girl shrieked suddenly and dropped the bucket nearby. The water washed over the thin mat Masanori was resting on. The old man scolded the girl and pushed her aside.

"Say there, you awake? Can you here me fellow? I'm Jimin and this is my niece Airi. We weren't sure if you were going to make it to be honest. You washed up in the river a few nights ago all bloody and delirious. Took you back home but honestly I had started digging a grave..."

The pair stared at Masanori, the young woman half hiding behind the elder. She looked underfed, they both did and neither one had clean clothes or any sort of weapon. The small shack barely contained enough room for the three bed mats and some fishing equipment. A few rays of sunlight tracked through the shoddy wood panels and outside he could faintly hear the sounds of other people going on about their day.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

The water struck Masanori like lightning upon the stormy seas he had just been sailing, and with it came a sudden lurch in consciousness. This was... wrong. Where was he? What had happened to the boat? Why... was he on a boat in the first place? Nothing made sense, not least of which the screaming peasant woman when he finally made to sit up from the damp straw mat he was laid upon. Pressing his hand to his eyes, the warrior tried to gather his bearings, coached along by the third person inhabiting this hut explaining to him what had happened.

Bloody? Delirious? He placed his other hand onto his stomach, wincing at how tender the flesh was. So he had been wounded... well, that explained the bizarre dream he was having. Damned thing was probably infected, though he could at least take solace in the knowledge that his fever had broken while he tossed and turned in this... fisherman's hut? Things still didn't make much sense. How did he end up wounded? How did he end up flushed down a river? As he collected himself, the ronin slapped himself on the cheek a few times for good measure, then finally affixed his gaze to the duo of commoners who had taken care of him in the interim.

"Where the hell am I? Where are my cloth.. wait, no, my swords, where are they?" He asked, the sudden realization that he had little more to his name than a thoroughly soaked blanket at the moment sinking in.

[Hazard1325]

The old man's face began to pale as Masanori sat up and asked about his swords. He got down on his knees before the injured ronin and bowed his head. "Please, do not be upset. The tax minister came and saw nothing of value in my hut besides your blades. I couldn't refuse when he demanded them. Perhaps now that you're awake you can explain they weren't mine to give. The tax minister is surely still in town... he's been taking advantage of the village in fact staying for more than a week taking what he likes. He claims to work for the Akahoshi clan and that they are the rightful regents of Raganzu now that the emperor is deposed, we couldn't refuse an imperial official." The old man said almost pleading by the end of it, clearly fearful of this strangers wrath, injured or not.

The young woman let out a huff. "We shouldn't have paid him at all, Akahoshi riders don't go this far south. Besides they won't fight the Wakimoto that live in the hills and forest nearby even if they did come all this way to collect." She insisted. By now the sharp pain in his abs was more of a dull ache and looking down he could see he was bandaged tightly. The skin around the area didn't look infected and he had enough mobility to move around albeit carefully.

"Please I'll go speak with the tax minister myself. Airi can look after you while I'm gone." The old man offered looking to Masanori and again bowing low and waiting on the floor for Masanori's verdict.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

"Kuso, it's always the damned bureaucrats." Masanori cursed, resisting the urge to spit seeing as though he was a guest in this dwelling. Not that it would do much harm to the squalor. The injured ronin placed his hands on his knees and forced himself into a sitting position, testing how mobile he could be without worsening his injury. He would need to address just what it was that wounded him in the first place later, but for now, retrieval of his blades was of utmost importance. A samurai with no master was a ronin, but a ronin with no sword was nothing.

Pushing up off the mat below him, he rose to his full height, shaking his head to the old man.

"Don't bother. He won't listen to a commoner, and you'll just risk your life if he's a vain one." He replied, looking down at the old bowing man. Then, he looked a little lower, to the exposed cock hanging just above his knees. That's right... he had been nude.

"I will bother you for my clothing, however."

[Hazard1325]

Sitting up was harder than it should have been. Masanori could feel his abs protesting but there were no sharp pains that might indicate the wound reopening or color on the bandages. He got to his feet as well after taking a second, his muscles weren't responding quite as fast or as coordinated as he was used to. He heard a gasp and the woman averted her gaze from his body a faint blush on her cheeks. Jimin kept his eyes averted as well though his was more out of respect than Airi's embarrassment.

"Oh... I see. I apologies again... sir. Once your business is done you may wish to return here and rest. You're not fully healed and we do not mind sheltering you a while longer." He explained then motioned to the door. "The tax minister is likely still at the inn. Its just on the hill next to the bridge. Follow the road and its easy enough to find."

While the old man had been explaining Airi had produced Masanori's robes, there was a hole that matched the pain in his lower body and a few bloodstains that hadn't quite washed out but otherwise they were the old fraying plain clothes he had remembered. Once he had donned them and stepped outside he could see he was in a small rural village. The main street seemed to be nestled in the cliffs near the base of a river. The road wound up to end on a plateau with a bridge spanning across the river to the far side and likely the only way in or out unless someone wanted to try swimming with or against the currents. It wasn't quite deserted but a few of the buildings were run down or outright vacant and the few people who he did see quickly moved along and averted their gaze from him. He could see his destination from here, the inn looked like it was the largest building in the small village half hanging over the cliff edge. Beyond it he could see on the other side of the cliffs where the bridge ended was a forest and the many high mountains of Raganzu. He had certainly washed up in a rather remote section of the southern provence.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

"You have my gratitude." Masanori replied as he dawned his clothing, fraying as they may be. Whatever it was that had wounded him seemed to have been the type to puncture; a spear, maybe? It did not matter for now. He would sort all of that out once he retrieved his weaponry and was in a better state to seek vengeance upon the aggressor. Padding his way out of the hut, he found his target easily enough in the run down fishing village, grumbling at the backwater that he had ended up in. With purpose, the ronin marched along the main street, paying little heed to the villagers who dodged his gaze on the way to the inn.

Once he arrived, he braced himself, and pressed through the curtains at the door of the establishment, taking a good look around to see what exactly he was up against in the quest to reclaim his swords.

[Hazard1325]

The inn was nothing special, he'd seen many like it. There were a few booths on one side but most of the short tables were laid out in the main room. Right now a tall man was sitting in the middle booth, a pile of trinkets spread out across its length while a young woman was balanced in his lap as he counted. He wore the robes of a Raganzu magistrate but with odd little flairs like pieces of leather armor, a fur sash across his waist, one of Masanori's swords at his hip and the hat that marked him as a tax collector sat firmly on his head even inside. His hair was long dark and braided sitting over one shoulder while he seemed to be talking quietly to the woman only stopping as he heard the beads on the front door rattle and announce Masanori's presence.

"Sorry this place is closed until my business is finished." The tax man said waving Manasori off. The woman in his lap chuckled as he bounced her a moment and she leaned forward muttering something. She looked back over to Masanori and her smile faltered a moment. She was playing the part well but given her pleading look she shot him she wasn't enjoying her guest as much as she put on.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

"It was made my business when you collected something that belongs to me." Masanori quickly interposed. He may not have had the station any longer, but he was once a retainer of the Wakimoto clan. He was well acquainted with the dire composure expected of a true samurai, and the confidence nature one needed to hold to show themselves a potential threat, even if he had been disarmed. He wasn't here for the woman, so he didn't bother to return her glance. If all went well, neither of them would need to deal with this man for much longer.

"Those swords you took as 'taxation' do not belong to a peasant. No peasant would carry blades of those nature, in that condition. They are my property, and you will return them."

[Hazard1325]

The tax collector glanced over at Masanori and smirked. With a quick slap to her rear he sent the girl stumbling off towards the back of the inn and he swung his boots out of the booth and stood up facing Masanori from across the room. He seemed to eye the former Samurai for a moment and nodded to himself. "You were that corpse the old man was tending to. I was pretty certain you were dead." He said adjusting his fur sash that had one of Masanori's blade slung through it, the other rested on the table behind him. He reached back for it twirling it over to slap against his open palm still sheathed.

"Don't you think you're pushing your luck? You cheated death once, why not take that and leave. Go be a monk or something with the second life you've been given." He said with an amused smirk starting to walk closer. "That old man didn't have much else to pay with, except maybe his daughter, which do you thinks worth more these swords or her?"

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

"It will take worse than impalement or drowning to kill me." Masanori replied bluntly, finding his patience all the more dulled by some bandit bureaucrat twiddling with his weapons as if they were trinkets to be toyed with. Had he been in prime shape, he may have decided just to try his luck and march over to the fool to beat the blades out of his hands. But he bid his time for now, keeping his sharp gaze affixed to the tax collector as he spoke his 'advice' and made his way towards him.

"To cheat death twice, would imply that death is lurking here. It is not. Not for me." The ronin replied confidently. "Whatever Lord you serve doesn't need stolen furs or pilfered swords or skinny village girls. They need rice to feed their armies for the wars to come. You won't find any rice here."

The injured warrior made sure to measure the distance between the two of them carefully, pacing just close enough so that if the man decided to go for the sword, he could spring forward and stop the pommel before the blade could clear its scabbard. A skilled samurai might have been able to cut him down before he could do something like this, but a skilled samurai would not need to steal someone else's swords. Assured of his position, he spoke again.

"Allow me to give you some advice of my own. Leave this village now, and go bully your way through one with grain to spare."

"After you've returned my swords."

[Hazard1325]

The tax collector considered Masanori's words a moment pausing in his tracks before he lunged forward and jabbed Masanori right in his wound with the blunt end of his own sheathed blade. The pain flared up quickly but it wasn't enough to double him over or take him out of the fight. Still either his reflexes were slow or the tax collector was quicker than he'd expect for a bureaucrat. He withdrew after the lunge with a smirk on his face. "These people will be dead in a week or two. I'm getting the valuables out of their hands before it goes to some bandits or the Wakimoto clan? I'm sure they could use a fine pair of swords such as yours."

After a pause his smirk grew wider. "How about this." He swept the blade back to the edge of his table catching Masanori's hilt and sending the sheathed weapon tumbling towards him. Masanori caught the blade easily enough and felt the familiar grip in his hand. The tax collector continued. "One blade each, you can either walk away with that and be content I've given you a generous tax break, or if you insist we can see who's worthy of the blades eh?" He said holding the sheathed weapon up in a novices stance. "Lets not get blood everywhere. First to three body strikes gets both swords." He offered still with that cocky grin on his face. The cheap shot had caught Masanori off guard but now with his blade in hand he'd stand a much better chance. The only question was to honor the bureaucrats contest or cut him down by drawing the blade.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

Masanori resisted the urge to snarl at the cheap shot this lowly bureaucrat decided to go for. Whoever had decided to run him through was going to pay doubly, first for daring to wound him in the first place, and secondly for forcing him to endure such indignity. However much his stomach throbbed, it wasn't enough to keep him from catching hold of one of his swords. There was a solace he could take in the weight of the weapon, one half of his daisho helping him feel slightly more grounded and complete in this new and, frankly, irritating world that he had awoken to. The tax collector's words only made the simmering rage in him rise, but he swallowed that rage, not letting it cloud his mind. He was already off his game.

"Fine. If that's what you would like, then we can play at your game," he began, staggering his way towards the tax collector, as if to play up his wounded nature. He had the scabbard held tight in his hand, as if he intended to strike at the cocksure bureaucrat with it, as he advanced upon him. However, he had little patience for this man's games after suffering him for those few minutes that followed his entrance to the inn.

"But, y'know, you're a rather poor tax collector. If you had surveyed these fine swords for a maker's mark, you would know..." A small, wicked grin poked at his features which had otherwise held a stern dignity to them beforehand, "That these already belonged to the Wakimoto!"

A twist of his hand caused the sword to rotate within his grip, so that the hilt stood to be drawn, and with a sudden lunge bereft of concern for his injured stomach, he coiled his fingers around it and moved to draw it in one smooth motion and part the collector of the sword in his hand; by severing it at the wrist.

[Hazard1325]

The tax collector maintained his neutral stance pacing around the inn's common room, circling with Masanori. "A makers mark? What ar-" The man's smug face dropped away as Masanori drew his blade. He twisted back and brought his weapon downward catching the blade on his swords sheathe. The mans motions were far quicker than Masanori might have expected and he was already making space between them. "Figures a Wakimoto wouldn't honor a contest. And here I was just trying to keep things friendly." He claimed sending his own strike back towards Masanori, once again the man demonstrated his exceptional speed but his technique was clumsy and Masanori safely side stepped and swung at the mans head from behind. The tax collector ducked and his hat was cut in two falling to either side as he turned and faced Masanori.

The woman in the back of the inn let out a shriek and it took Masanori a moment to realize why. Staring up at the top of the mans head he could see two black fox ears now unfurled from under the hat. The tax collector grimaced and reached up to feel them glaring at Masanori. "Dammit. Those aren't easy to come by you know." He said with a sigh as his eyes went from their dull brown to a bright orange and the fur sash around his waist uncoiled and proved to be a big bushy tail. "Okay, you got me. Not a tax collector! And now you're going to get me chased right out of town!" He said tapping the sheathed blade on his shoulder and considering what to do, looking between Masanori and the girl.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

This afternoon continued to go from bad to worse. Not only had someone impaled him. Not only had he been sweating an infection out in a peasant's hut for however many days. Not only had someone taken his swords; but now he had to contest with a yokai of all things! With an irritated growl, the ronin kept his sword pointed towards the fox as it so casually complained at him.

"Then go, you wicked black fox. Give back what you stole and go back wherever you came from; these people have been through enough without you having fun at their expense, and I've just about had it with you."

[Hazard1325]

The kitsune looked mildly annoyed at Masanori's words. "You just admited where your blades come from and you want to call me wicked?" He asked taking a seat on one of the table ends watching the ronin carefully while he rested. "Half of the south is in flames because of your clan, and I bet you got that wound fighting against Saionji or Akahoshi. Then you got dumped in the river because your lord is possibly the biggest asshole this side of the swamps and wasn't going to slow his warband down long enough for his troops to heal. And here I was just enjoying a roof over my head for a change, and you have to come barging in to ruin it."

The kitsune paused a moment only occasionally sending a glare over at the whimpering woman who seemed quite alarmed a Yokai was now perching in her inn room. He looked back to Masanori and sighed. "Tell you what, lets start over. My names Arashi, and I'm not sure what you've heard exactly that qualifies me immediately as wicked. The tax collector thing was just something to get a little coin. I gotta eat after all, and its a fishing village. What the hell do they need this coin for? All the trade caravans lining up to cross that rickety bridge?" He asked with more than a little sarcasm and a toothy grin that showed off his fangs. "Besides I was going to spend most of it here before things soured. Now I'm thinking about taking this sword and running off into the wilds its not like you've left me with a whole lot of options after outing me like that."

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

"It's not my clan any more." Masanori quipped in return, though he didn't bother correcting the fox creature in regards to his wound. It wasn't like it particularly mattered whether or not he had been injured after he left the service of the Wakimoto or not. What mattered now was keeping a lid on his temper so as to not try running this mouthy Yokai through with his remaining sword.

"You may have been enjoying it this roof, but the people who run this inn and the people of the town you've been leeching off of do not. All the ways a kitsune could bring in money, and you choose one of the most hated sights in the entire empire," he scoffed, "Besides, what the hell do you need the coin for? Food? You're a fox! You don't need to come around to a human settlement to play your tricks and pilfer whatever smells nice. Nor do you need my sword."

This was becoming ridiculous. In what world was he meant to know how to negotiate with spirits and demons? In what world was he meant to care about their plights?

[Hazard1325]

Arashi threw back his head and sighed. "You have no idea what you're talking about." He said rubbing his temples with one hand. "You want your sword back? Great I'll leave it at the fork to Gryu and Caoyong. That should be clear of bandit country. Keep the junk on the table you look like you need all the help you can get." He said finally standing up and moving to leave through the front door. Masanori could easily move to intercept him but it seemed like the fox had made up his mind.

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

"You'll leave it here, or you won't leave at all." Masanori responded, finished with attempting to speak sense to this creature. It expected him to trudge halfway to who knew where to collect his sword from a river? Seeing as though he was already close enough to the door to intercept the Yokai before it could leave, he did just that.

[Hazard1325]

As Masanori moved forward Arashi stepped back staying clear of sword range and pacing back and forth watching carefully for some opening to the door. "You are really making things hard... look I really don't want to hurt you or anyone else really I jus-" He didn't get to finish his sentence. The girl had emerged from behind the bar and shattered a Sake jar over the back of the kitsunes head. He tilted forward and face planted letting his blade clatter over to Masanori's feet. The woman panted a bit staring down at the shattered clay pieces and let out a huff of breath. "Is he... dead? I only wanted to knock him out. The local hunter might have a cage big enough for him, we don't really have a prison here... maybe the elder will know what to do with him?"

[Ze Blitzkrieg]

It certainly wasn't the outcome Masanori had expected, but seeing the kitsune flop down in a heap after being smacked in the head by a jug was a resolution to the situation none the less. He reached down and picked up the short sword that accompanied his katana, and tucked it through his sash with the other scabbard. Holding his other blade still, he contemplated just stabbing the unconscious fox while he was incapacitated. It certainly would prevent it from coming back to bite him in the ass later, though he doubted the innkeeper would enjoy him killing the Yokai after explaining how she herself hadn't meant to. He could drag the shapeshifter out of the village and dispatch of him where nobody would see, but that risked having him wake up and having to go through this ordeal again.

There was also the matter of turning over a new leaf. Would it really be the honorable thing to do, to dispatch the defenseless.

Grumbling to himself, he sheathed his sword and reached down to lift up the kitsune by his collar. He wasn't so wounded that hefting someone over his shoulder would be out of the question. The real question is where you even took a troubling Yokai like this one.

"Just point me to the elder's place and I'll figure something out." The ronin eventually decided.