Training Courtyard

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Training Courtyard

Post  Daichi Beijiosaki on Tue Apr 11, 2017 9:54 pm

Daichi took a pleasant walk to the back end of the palace, weaving his way through the many corridors and halls through the multi-level palace grounds Kaede's ancestors had built. The Beijiosaki's built Beijio, gave it its namesake. Being born a Higa, he didn't know how he'd feel serving a Dynasty who usurped your own several centuries ago; but what Daichi did know was that Beijio needed to be fully united. No more clans, there needed to be a unified coalition under the banner of a single Emperor than multiple Shoguns. As he got to the training yard, he removed his haori jacket, and his armor, setting them neatly to the side. He then removed his muscular form from his gi, letting the shoulders and torso fall down his exposed back and chest. His bare torso was thick, almost as wide as a Scardian Ironwood tree, his toned chest revealed muscle upon rolling muscle with a defined abdomen and wide slightly sloped shoulders. His arms were also very thick with muscle, and given his weapon of choice and upbringing, it only made sense. His multiple scars, slash marks, old bullet wounds and places where arrows had pierced through his armor. He had three in particular which he carried with the most pride; his first scar as a warrior upon his left cheek from a Noble Lord who nearly took his head; a scar upon his chest where Kaede had stabbed her blade (promptly before he proposed and made love to her several years ago), and an even older scar... A scar under his left arm pit, he received as a young boy while playing with his best friend, Val.

He smirked. Oh the shit we got into. Perhaps my parents decided to move us back to Beijio in an effort to keep either one of us from getting killed by our mischievous antics. I still don't believe we got away with entering the 'Mother of the Steppes' cave. I guess Corveyus was with us that day, preserved our luck. he thought, and then shrugged. He lifted his Zanbatō, or Beijionese Buster Sword with relative ease. Only Scardians were truly capable of wielding such, otherwise unwieldy weapons, and the Beijionese the skill to use such razor sharp weapons to a point where it could practically cut through anything. Thanks to Daichi's upbringing, he was both, and it was his birth in the lowlands of Scardia which made him capable of double strength, agility, and durability; and best of all: allowed him to meet Val.

"Hyyyah!", he exclaimed, swinging the blade one handed in a well practiced, smooth motion after standing in the center of the training yard. He was by himself today it seemed, which was fine, can't show off to everyone. "Hraaah!" he exclaimed, stepping back, swinging the massive thick blade from the side in an upward sweep, spinning the blade above his head while still in motion before grabbing the blades grip with both hands, swinging around in motion and the weight of the blade building up with momentum, and swung towards his invisible opponent behind him. He paused the blade immediately after 'slicing' the visualized generic enemy in his mind's eye; the blade was one moment carrying enough force to slice through both man and horse, but stopped so abruptly and still, the air around his blade actually dispersed and was propelled in the motion of his blade's arc.

The blade remained still, balanced and level with Daichi's even movements. He then slowly changed his form, raising the blade at an angle as he exhaled, a smooth, low and continuous gasp while he steps slowly back, leaning slightly back. ""HMMP!" he grunted, charging forward in a dead sprint, blade angled before lunging swinging its full length out, twisting his body as he then turns the stabbing motion into a full sweep, the air aiding his body as he swung in a low, quick, and complete circle twice with the massive sword in his outstretched right hand. The air or wind formed from this attack bellowed out from around him, kicking up dust and debris with a powerful wind blast which spread from Daichi's body; the air howling a low, eerie growl. He ended this 'full swing' by holding the large blade in front of him, his left hand against the non cutting edge of the weapon towards the upper half of the sword, while his right gripped the handle.

He grinned, and loosened his stance, and began practicing side swiping slashes and overhead downward strikes now that he was warmed up, his ki flowing through his veins.
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