A contented sigh escaped Sendo’s lips as he eased his bruised body into the hot water, instantly feeling his work tightened muscles loosen at its contact. The water was a degree or two below scalding, but the contrast between its heat and the crisp mountain air was downright divine as it worked wonders on his body. He laid his head back against the stony siding and allowed his eyes to wander shut as his mind began to drift and the water went to work contemplating the days activities. Today had been a live weapon training day in the Vespasian Colosseum and his arms still hummed from the impact of his axe upon his training partners guard. Below the steam which surrounded him Sendo swore he could still smell the tang of sweat and blood that had both flowed freely over his massive arms as they fought with a fervor saying neither he nor his opponent was holding back. He recalled hearing as much as seeing when his opponent would perform a subtle shift of weight a mere instant before their sword would lash out for him. Watching for these shifts in the torso of his opponent had become second nature over his shinobi career which had spanned over a decade so far, dashing these attacks violently aside equally so. He smirked to himself as he analyzed how the attack would only be turned far enough to not kill with the strike but not so far as to totally miss him, which standardly saw a momentary confusion in his opponents which he could immediately capitalize on. After all, if you’re going to turn aside an attack, why not dodge the entire attack Sendo could imagine them thinking, knowing full well that he valued results at the cost of his wellbeing far more than most around him.
Sendo began absentmindedly scrubbing water across his body which was not submerged, feeling the freshness that comes only from having the grime of battle literally and symbolically washed from you. As he scrubbed he felt the barest of twinges on his arm goading him to open his eye and inspect what the culprit was. Investigating he found that in his scrubbing he had broken open a scab which had formed from a shallow cut on his upper tricep allowing it to streak a thin line of blood down his wet arm to the spring he sat in. Watching for a moment it felt like he could almost ‘feel’ the moment his body decided that enough was enough and commanded his body to stop wasting precious blood. Almost as soon as it had begun bleeding the flow had stemmed, then ceased altogether as it settled back into a dark red line across his skin which, if history was any judge, become another scar upon his already heavily scarred body.
That brief annoyance handled saw Sendo return his head to the rock behind him as his eyes shut and his thoughts drifted back off to the fight today. He watched its entirety in his mind’s eye pointedly searching for any areas of improvement, happily finding them to be few and far between. He was content with how he was able to immediately fall into his battle stance, blurring his war axe off his back in a single fluid motion in the same breadth. The heft of his axe weighting solidly in his hands never ceased to satisfy deep recesses in his mind and push his body firmly into battle gear. He mused for a moment on what they had hoped to accomplish in their screaming headlong charge to engage. Intimidation tactics? ‘They must not know me very well.’ He thought as a brief snort escaped him at the implication. Sendo had accepted the charge wholly, holding his ground against his smaller but skilled opponent. Feeling blows ring off of his axe and reverberate down his arms, sidestepping and ducking cuts, and accepting some blows with little thought Sendo was giving just as good as he got, if not better.
The fight continued as Sendo remained on defensive footing, only counterattacking blows as opposed to launching into his own full scale assault. Fighting defensively was anathema to his thoughts on battle, but even Sendo had to grudgingly accept that defense had to be in your thoughts even if it was decently far down the priority list. Plus, the counterattacks he had launched had been gruesome indeed. Contemplating over the amount of blood he had cleaned off his axe his opponent would have almost certainly needed quite a few stitches at the least and would undoubtedly be sporting bruising across most of his face from where he had the misfortune of meeting the weighty haft of War Edge. In the aftermath of battle Sendo did feel several twinges of guilt over injuring such a wonderful fighter for Kumo in a training fight. Through his experience as a shinobi he knew it was the only way to properly prepare for whatever he was called on to do, but it didn’t stop him from feeling unhappy over it after the fact. Shaking off the negative feeling he let them rise off with the steam in the air leaving him to continue his in depth study.
The remainder of the fight had continued for several more minutes as Sendo’s axe responded seemingly of its own volition as strikes continued to streak at him with breakneck speed, all of them either being answered, dodged, or ignored for a counterstrike. The bout had ended abruptly as Sendo had lured his opponent into an overhead chop that had been intercepted inside the curve of his axe. Then, bringing his massive strength to bear, Sendo had crowded into his opponents face and stripped the weapon from his grasp sending it hurdling behind him several feet. They collectively had chosen to end the bout at that as Sendo was now the only one armed and had his smaller opponent solidly within his grasp.
His thorough analysis done Sendo briefly reminisced on the long, tough, bloody road that had led him to be the capable warrior he was today. The years of training and broken bones, the ups and downs, and also the unwavering resolve he had held throughout it all. He found himself content in the acts of defiant will that had brought him to this point in his life, knowing for fact that the reckless abandon he had thrown himself in with had been what carved the way. ‘It doesn’t do to dwell or pat yourself on the back too long.’ Sendo thought as his thoughts eventually drifted back to the here and now. He finished cleaning his body before rising from the water and meeting the stiff chill that found him with a slight grimace. He dried, dressed, and set off for home quickly because even though today had been a successful day of training, there was tomorrow to consider as well. Sendo simply couldn’t wait.
WC: 1161
[topic entered/left]
[MFT]
Sendo began absentmindedly scrubbing water across his body which was not submerged, feeling the freshness that comes only from having the grime of battle literally and symbolically washed from you. As he scrubbed he felt the barest of twinges on his arm goading him to open his eye and inspect what the culprit was. Investigating he found that in his scrubbing he had broken open a scab which had formed from a shallow cut on his upper tricep allowing it to streak a thin line of blood down his wet arm to the spring he sat in. Watching for a moment it felt like he could almost ‘feel’ the moment his body decided that enough was enough and commanded his body to stop wasting precious blood. Almost as soon as it had begun bleeding the flow had stemmed, then ceased altogether as it settled back into a dark red line across his skin which, if history was any judge, become another scar upon his already heavily scarred body.
That brief annoyance handled saw Sendo return his head to the rock behind him as his eyes shut and his thoughts drifted back off to the fight today. He watched its entirety in his mind’s eye pointedly searching for any areas of improvement, happily finding them to be few and far between. He was content with how he was able to immediately fall into his battle stance, blurring his war axe off his back in a single fluid motion in the same breadth. The heft of his axe weighting solidly in his hands never ceased to satisfy deep recesses in his mind and push his body firmly into battle gear. He mused for a moment on what they had hoped to accomplish in their screaming headlong charge to engage. Intimidation tactics? ‘They must not know me very well.’ He thought as a brief snort escaped him at the implication. Sendo had accepted the charge wholly, holding his ground against his smaller but skilled opponent. Feeling blows ring off of his axe and reverberate down his arms, sidestepping and ducking cuts, and accepting some blows with little thought Sendo was giving just as good as he got, if not better.
The fight continued as Sendo remained on defensive footing, only counterattacking blows as opposed to launching into his own full scale assault. Fighting defensively was anathema to his thoughts on battle, but even Sendo had to grudgingly accept that defense had to be in your thoughts even if it was decently far down the priority list. Plus, the counterattacks he had launched had been gruesome indeed. Contemplating over the amount of blood he had cleaned off his axe his opponent would have almost certainly needed quite a few stitches at the least and would undoubtedly be sporting bruising across most of his face from where he had the misfortune of meeting the weighty haft of War Edge. In the aftermath of battle Sendo did feel several twinges of guilt over injuring such a wonderful fighter for Kumo in a training fight. Through his experience as a shinobi he knew it was the only way to properly prepare for whatever he was called on to do, but it didn’t stop him from feeling unhappy over it after the fact. Shaking off the negative feeling he let them rise off with the steam in the air leaving him to continue his in depth study.
The remainder of the fight had continued for several more minutes as Sendo’s axe responded seemingly of its own volition as strikes continued to streak at him with breakneck speed, all of them either being answered, dodged, or ignored for a counterstrike. The bout had ended abruptly as Sendo had lured his opponent into an overhead chop that had been intercepted inside the curve of his axe. Then, bringing his massive strength to bear, Sendo had crowded into his opponents face and stripped the weapon from his grasp sending it hurdling behind him several feet. They collectively had chosen to end the bout at that as Sendo was now the only one armed and had his smaller opponent solidly within his grasp.
His thorough analysis done Sendo briefly reminisced on the long, tough, bloody road that had led him to be the capable warrior he was today. The years of training and broken bones, the ups and downs, and also the unwavering resolve he had held throughout it all. He found himself content in the acts of defiant will that had brought him to this point in his life, knowing for fact that the reckless abandon he had thrown himself in with had been what carved the way. ‘It doesn’t do to dwell or pat yourself on the back too long.’ Sendo thought as his thoughts eventually drifted back to the here and now. He finished cleaning his body before rising from the water and meeting the stiff chill that found him with a slight grimace. He dried, dressed, and set off for home quickly because even though today had been a successful day of training, there was tomorrow to consider as well. Sendo simply couldn’t wait.
WC: 1161
[topic entered/left]
[MFT]