Based on the Kamigawa block of the Magic the Gathering trading card game. Japanese themed to those whom don't play Magic. Please R&R. Thank you. Any japanese terms are taken from the kamigawa glossary at the magicthegathering official site.
Prelude - Overpowered
Heavy leather pounded onto the moist earth, slinging mud upwards, staining faded samurai armor. The wearer was a revered warrior, feared and respected for his mastery of combat and his insight of tactics. None whom opposed him led healthy, worry-free lives. This point was further emphasized by the trail he left in his wake. Even as the leather boots left the soft soil, moisture was robbed from its component. Immediately, the earth dried into crisp, hard material, finally cracking before the murky waters of Takenuma replenished the void.
The sound of boots upon mud, puddle or a combination of both increased in frequency as haste was summoned to the traveler's side. Foliage and numerous other bothersome plants were whisked aside by a flash of steel, their shredded remains decorating the swampy lands. The trail grew tiresome as more vegetation threaten to mislead the traveler. Each obscuration of sight was efficiently removed. However, the katana didn't slash alone. The wakizahi joined its elongated brother in removing irritancies. Both blades worked to magnificent synergy. A thatched roof appeared in view upon the clearing of the final stretch of plants, and both blades return to rest within their sheaths.
The traveler addressed his daisho, adjusting his sash and armor. Impression was vital when meeting guest.
Stealthily, perhaps more than necessary, the samurai descended the hill towards the little hut in the middle of a crater of sorts. The hut mysteriously stood at the epicenter of where the earth sunk, but the murky water of Takenuma didn't flow into the chasm. In fact, where the swamp water had been alienated, healthy grass prospered. The samurai's dirty boots tainted the grassy ground, slippery amidst the sudden emergence of plant-life.
A crunching sound stirred the inhabitant of the hut, and a curse escaped the traveler's lips. Again, the blades were summoned to his side as the samurai forgo covertness for alacrity. The samurai's ceremoniously tied ponytail shook furiously in light of the acceleration, as the door of the hut slammed open. A shadowy figure leapt away just as double blades pierced through the rotten wood. Pulling the katana and the wakizashi away in seperate directions, the samurai split the door in halves. Frustrated eyes darted quickly to his surroundings, scanning for the escapee.
A shrewd laughter filled the air, a stark contrast the lush green fields surrounding the hut.
"Uramon sent you, no doubt." The voice belonging to the escapee begun its taunt. "Tsk, tsk, I'd have expected a better creed."
The samurai gritted his teeth. Anger flooded into his veins, and his grip tightened upon his blades. "Come out and face me hermit! Uramon has a grand price for your filthy head." shouted the samurai in response. His every senses were attuned to a battle-ready stance. Sight, sound, skin, all receptors excited to pick up any sign of the prey.
"You think I fear you, egotistical one? Long have you not fought with those blades. Longer still have you faced an equal, merely beheading fowls at your prime." A disturbance stirred the samurai, and he turned immediately to face a shadow of a man. A large straw hat concealed much of the scrawny fellow's face, while rags seemed to be the desired apparel. The most decent piece of clothing was a long flowing cloak, which fluttered sideways to an unknown wind. The samurai poised to strike, lowering his head and body slightly and crouching tensely.
"Fowls? Tell that to the warriors I have slain thus far. Now die to your master, Isatamo!" Without warning, the samurai dug into his heels and dashed forward. The distance between both man narrowed to arm's length, but Isatamo remained in his melancholy stance. The katana flew forward, aiming to the neck while the wakizashi thrust for the gut. Deftly, Isatamo tilted backwards to avoid the katana first and then, allowing himself to fall backwards, sharply shifted to the right to evade the lunge.
To the samurai's utter disbelief, Isatamo's legs remained rooted to the floor, even as his body performed such acrobatics, merely shifting as the body moved. Carrying the momentum from the sway, Isatamo swung his whole body and knocked his left shoulder onto the samurai's right rib. The blow was lessened by the armor, but the samurai still felt the brunt of the attack. 'Such force!' exclaimed the samurai in his mind. Before he could catch his breath, Isatamo faded away and appeared duly behind him. A sharp karate chop to the back of the neck sent the samurai plummeting to the ground, unconsciousness nearly consuming him.
Breathing sharply, the samurai pushed himself back up. A certain ringing disturbed his balance. Yet, Isatamo's words rung clear. "I have told those you have slain. They are unworthy." Ignoring the boast, the samurai shook his head, bludgeoning his forehead to hopefully drown the ringing. "Let's not waste time ochimusha. You still have a destiny to fulfill. Tell Boss Uramon you failed. Goodbye."
It happened far too fast. The samurai panicked, whirling around to anticipate a charging foe. Isatamo, as expected, had assumed the samurai's own stance earlier, readying to charge. However, unlike the samurai's earlier attempt, Isatamo didn't allow his opponent to gauge his movements. In a blink, Isatamo traveled to within range and planted a knuckle right at the gut. The samurai was thrown backwards by the force, but Isatamo, with inhumane speed, had already positioned himself behind the falling samurai. A sharp knock altered the course of the body. The samurai bounced once on the hard earth before remaining still, lost in unconsciousness.
Isatamo stood atop the body, releasing a sigh to the air.
"Now who's going to carry him out of here?"