6338/The Badger and the Samurai

The Badger and the Samurai
Date of Scene:	24 January 2019
Location:	The Shrine of Adversity
Synopsis:	Mortimer has been wanting to throw down with Nobunaga for some time.
Cast of Characters:	Nobunaga, Mortimer Balman

---

Nobunaga has posed:
    The Shrine of Adversity's interior is already reacting to the presence of the one who waits here. The dull black interior has overwritten itself into a feudal Japanese castle with a wide courtyard, immaculate white stone, laquered brown wood, and black roof tiles. At a glance it appears in perfect condition, a well-maintained palace that any garrison would be proud of.

    Waiting in the center of the courtyard is the samurai warlord, Oda Nobunaga. Her scarlet cape flutters gently on the same breeze that teases her hair. The simulated sun glimmers off the golden jewelry and the great sunburst sigil on her cap. Her eyes are closed, hands outstretched and resting on the hilt of a katana that rests vertically before her.

    What kind of ruins the scene is that she's not alone. Somewhere around a dozen creatures mill about the edges of the courtyard, knee-high to the warlord, resembling her in appearance and dress and yet very obviously not human just by their proportions. Congregating in groups of three or four, the Nobbu simply wait for the show to start, chattering their names amongst themselves.

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mort and his crew come sauntering into the Shrine. He's been here a lot lately. It brings back fond memories of the Bar and Brawl... And their magnificent proprietor. When the old badger gets to where Nobu is waiting, she'll see him pausing and staring blankly up at the place, with a wistful look. Lost in thought. He looks kinda like /crap/ actually. Judging by the damage done to his uniform and the scar tissue over recent cuts he's been in a pretty ugly fight. So too has his crew, but they look less obviously savaged.

     The massive Thunderwolf tilts his head at the tiny Nobbus, looking between them and the full sized proper Nobu, and then sniffing at them curiously. The butterfree and the wartortle however, seem content to just lazily nap on the great beast's back.

     Mort does not appear to be armed, aside from the fact that his head is giving off a constant wraithly flame from which occasionally take the form of face-like wisps..

Nobunaga has posed:
    A giant wolf doesn't seem to startle the Nobbu, who -- upon seeing something of immediate interest -- start congregating around the beast. Much like pokemon, they only seem to chirp their name in various permutations, though it's an easy enough noise to tune out.

    Nobunaga herself lifts her face, crimson eyes opening. The brim of her cap casts her face in shadow, and her eyes quite clearly glow for a few moments before she lifts her face moreso and the natural light drowns it out, "Ah ha, Balman! You made good time. Although you certainly look the worst for wear, this place should care little for that."

    Her hands shift and she collects the katana by its scabbard. The weapon is lifted, turned sidelong, and then tossed to the pokemarine, "Here. A gift. While it is of no special make or property, a warrior with empty hands is a sad sight. Perhaps you are the one who shall create a legend with this unchristened blade."

    Her hand lowers, and she curls her fingers around the hilt of the katana tucked into her belt. This weapon is drawn in a smooth arc, glinting in the light. Held one-handed and down to the side, Nobunaga raises her free hand to gesture, "Is it to your liking?"

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     The Thunderwolf, suddenly surrounded by noisy chibis, starts moving carefully, prancing a little as confused canids tend to do- despite its mass it is able to carefully navigate its colossal paws without crushing them. Though one or two are bound to be bowled over when he sneezes at them, and then bounces out of the way so that they are all in front of and not surrounding him. They will need to be careful of the wagging tail, lest they be launched as though by trebuchet.

     The tossed sword... Unceremoniously CLONKs Mort right in the face. "Ack!" He manages to grab it as it falls toward the ground. "Sorry about that, got lost in a memory or two there.. Ah?" He looks at the sword. For someone who's seven feet tall, a standard katana is somewhat short. However.. He attaches it to a couple of belt loops anyway, and then twists the scabber a bit. "Light weight." He rests the opposing hand on it, drawing and slashing in front of him in a single quick motion. "The curve is a bit steeper than I prefer, it makes a number of stabbing motions awkward to aim." A few quick spins and then a rapid resheathing. "The edge sounds sharp and the swing is sturdy. An excellent slashing weapon. The workmanship is exceptional, but not masterful. An ideal weapon for a soldier who will put it through more abuse than a noble who has spent a lifetime trying to master every intricacy of a sweeping stroke, makes it a bit more durable if a bit less sharp. Kieri would have approved."

Nobunaga has posed:
    "Hmm!" Nobunaga seems pleased that the gift was accepted, "A weapon fit for a warrior, rather than a priest or coddled prince. You are astute." The woman grins, "You also seem versed in its use. This is good. It spares me the need to teach you how to avoid mishandling and breaking it."

    Her hand lowers until she simply props it on her hip. Her cape flutters in the breeze once more, as artificial as it is, "Shall we commence to our duel, then? Though I have a history of striking first, I shall permit you to make the first move in this game."

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mortimer nods. "Yes.. Kieri spent years trying to get everyone in our platoon to master the East Contikan forms of swordsmanship- which are, shockingly, similar to your Japan's, specifically. Parallel cultural evolution is /fascinating/, especially when there are so many vast gulfs in development, wouldn't you agree?" The old man walks into the arena calmly. "You even have similar naming conventions. Oda, Watanabe, Date, Nakamura, Takahashi.. So on and so forth."

     He takes a moment to stretch his limbs. "Oh? Well, if you're going to be so polite, it would be terribly rude not to oblige you. Hm.. ...You are a /strange/ target, that much is certain.. But let's see." Studying Nobunaga is odd to him. She carries herself like someone who should be built in a very different way.. That's a good tactic, thinking on it. If he tries to gauge her as he would normally, he won't have a clue. Well! That only leaves one option.

     Pressing the assault to see what all she can actually DO. Mort spreads his legs, leaning on the one that's further back... And then dashes forwards with considerable speed, drawing the blade in a swift motion again and trying to bring it across Nobunaga's midsection. It is not a delicate and cautious strike, if he was wielding a more Western-style blade one might swear it was a move meant to crack armor.

Nobunaga has posed:
    When Mortimer moves, Nobunaga braces, but doesn't bring her katana up defensively. Rather, the tension in her legs is released in a backwards leap. She doesn't quite clear the swipe of the sword, which carves across her middle and colors the latter half of its arc with crimson, splattering across the sandy castle courtyard. Motes of golden light scatter around her as she's airborne, with another set hurling off when she lands and slides to a stop.

    It becomes immediately clear why Nobunaga did not appear to carry herself as a samurai swordswoman. Each mote of light expands, elongates, and then bursts-- replacing itself with an ornate Japanese rifle. A dozen or more such weapons float around her and along the path of her jump. The matchlocks swing back with audible clicks as the arquebi swing around, leveling on the badger marine.

    "Am I that strange?" she says as she straightens, reaching up to tug her hat down. The glow in her eyes becomes obvious again, "It is because you expected a swordswoman" That same hand is held out, aiming even before the rifle has fully materialized in her grasp, "And got a firing squad!"

    It's only about a third of the manifested weapons that actually fire, the others spreading out so they aren't so conveniently clustered together.

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     "Eh? What the-" Guns! Magic.. Guns? --Wait those are arquebus! He knows what those are, which means he's trying get the hell out of the way, though he only manages to dodge a couple of the shots. The rest of them burrow into his flesh. Musketballs hurt. Not in the same way modern bullets do, because they don't bounce around in the flesh the same way the modern bullets do. "Magic, huh? I can do that too.. Let's see if I remember Master Mifune's teachings..!"

     The sword is flicked clean of blood, and woven in a short circle. This carves symbols into the air, cutting black geometry and weaving threads of magic into something tangible. "Kiss the feet of Shaymin and rejoice with Trembling at the Dawn of Spring lest Thou perish along the way, when His wrath is kindled but a little." The geometry that hangs in the air seems to crackle with electricity, and the wind kicks up as though a storm is on the way, "Cursed Iron Forest: Southern Monsoon Winds!"

     He swings the sword and releases a surge of electricity in the shape of a wide cutting blade, which is followed by a huge rush of wind and debris, and the sound of a thunderclap.

Nobunaga has posed:
    "Magic?" Nobunaga repeats the question, "Not in the least! What you witness is my Noble Phantasm, an aspect of who I am and the legacy I carved into history!" She brings her sword up this time, defensively when the spell erupts. The slash wave shreds her cape, while the electricity surges through her body and leaves the woman smoldering.

    "If this is how it is to be, though..." She lowers her weapon and thrusts her free hand out to one side. "Behold the descent of the Demon King!"

    Promptly, the castle also bursts into flames-- The entire castle and courtyard seems to 'melt' from its pristine state into a version of itself that has been the brunt of a siege. Walls show damage, support buildings are destroyed. This isn't an effect of Nobunaga's abilities, but the Shrine reacting to the changes in her inner world and projecting it the same way it had done to project the castle itself.

    A burst of flames also erupts around Nobunaga herself, although this quickly resolves into an even larger collection of rifles, "Prostrate your corpse before Three Thousand Souls upon the Three Steps of Nagashino." Her katana is raised, and the rifles all swing around to aim at the single point in space currently occupied by a fire badger, "And scorch your soul against the Demon King's Three Line Formation!" She sweeps the katana down, and the guns begin to fire.

    The first row fires, swings back from the recoil, and disappears. The second row performs much the same, while a new line of weapons materialize in the first row's place. The third line of guns fires and disappears while the first row aims and the second row reappears. A seemingly ceaseless volley of shot and fire and the laughter of a Japanese warlord.

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Ah hell. Surrounded by guns. Well that's not good. Nowhere to dodge.. Nowhere to run. That's how it always is, isn't it? Mort hunkers down and tenses his muscles, short fur rising up like spines. He braces for the impact.. And then it hits him, pretty much full force. But he had just enough time to brace for such an attack.. And stands back up, panting and bleeding like a stuck pig from dozens of brand new bulletholes. He's probably gained five pounds in lead alone!

     Huff, huff. "That wasn't magic before, then? *Huff* Well.. Let me apologize, I didn't realize, felt an awful lot like magic.. Hits hard, either way. But.. Y'know, there's a reason we never bothered with such silly toys as /guns/ in my world..." He opens his mouth. There's a really bright, orange glow coming from the back of his throat..

     And then a beam of intensely concentrated fire slashes across the air. And Nobunaga, for that matter.

Nobunaga has posed:
    Nobunaga brings her sword up once more, and the volley fire from her various rifles ceases for just a moment. She gestures with her free hand, "Forward!" and the lines of rifles around her respond by dropping in front of her and turning vertical, creating something of a barricade of weaponry. It's hardly airtight, as streams of flames surge through. Powder explodes, and various weapons are destroyed, dissolving into their component energies.

    Oda Nobunaga stands, smoldering, in the aftermath of the flare, scorched. Parts of her uniform are on fire, which she ignores. She spreads her hands to either side, sword still held, to demonstrate her survival, "To refer to another warrior's weapon of choice in such a disrespectful manner? I thought better of you, Balman. Perhaps I was too hasty in my judgement of your character."

    She raises her free hand, palm outward. More weapons begin materializing around her, increasing in numbers rapidly. While the number of rifles before would have equipped a squad, this is rapidly approaching what would be needed to supply an entire army, filling the air above and around the burning castle.

    "The Demonic King of the Sixth Heaven permits you to die."

    Her fingers close together, and after a heartbeat, she snaps them. The rigid adherance to the three-volley fire pattern is retained, but hardly to detriment-- as it results in the courtyard being bombarded almost without pause from absurd numbers of guns, from all directions.

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     "Perhaps you have. Of course, such disrespect has its place in a battle you know- it riles you up so *beautifully!" Mort /was/ going to use that opportunity to make one last ditch effort to cut her down. Bullets pepper him endlessly, simply from pure saturation of the field, no matter how fast he moves he's being shot /endlessly/.

     When the smoke clears, Mort's standing only a couple of feet from Nobunaga's gun line, panting heavily. "Damn.. That was... Incredible.." Huff. Huff. Huff. "Did I mention.. How /incredibly/ gorgeous that is.. When ya go all out like that? Gwa.. Ha haaa.. Haaaa..." THUD. He hits the ground like a brick.

Nobunaga has posed:
    The storm of shot and gunsmoke only ceases when Nobunaga raises her hand again. Close to a thousand rifles hold fire, those that had discharged disappearing, replaced by fresh weapons at the ready, but holding. She simply stares at the towering marine, prepared to signal another volley.

    When he collapses instead, she ^lowers her hand, staring down at Mortimer with faintly glowing crimson eyes, "A man's life is but fifty years, nothing but a dream in the great order of things."

    ...

    "Yeow--!" The woman jumps suddenly, slapping at the fires still burning at the edges of her uniform, "--Hot, hot, hot--!"

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     The butterfree with the incredibly British mustache slowly flutters over and holds out a tiny paw, lifting the unconscious Mortimer off the ground. "<A rousing and magnificent duel, your Ladyship... Or.. Lordship? I apologize, I do not grasp why you call yourself a King and not a Queen, please forgive this humble servant for his lack of understanding. Do you require assistance to leave the arena as well?>"

Nobunaga has posed:
    "Lord Nobunaga," the Daimyo corrects once she's attended to the immediate concerns of her outfit, "And I will depart on my own two feet." She raises her hand and makes a round-up gesture. The rifles she had created begin disappearing in great numbers until the massive formation has completely dispersed.

    The way she walks is slow and steady, so as not to aggravate anything until the Shrine does what it does, though as she departs the combat arena, the scene of the burning Japanese castle also dissolves, and the Shrine's battleground reverts to its regular default state.

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     The butlerfree bows his head a bit, "<Of course, Lord.>" And then carries Mort out as well. Who immediately wakes up as the Shrine's bizarre powers start rewinding and shocking his body in ways that irritate the Hell out of him. "Okay.. That was /fun/. Gwahahahaha!" The old marine's laugh is coarse but jolly. "I did /not/ realize you could just summon infinite arquebus. That was fuckin' /cool/."

Nobunaga has posed:
    "Of course!" Nobunaga shoots over her shoulder at the massive marine, "Although it is not infinite, one thousand rifles is more than enough to overwhelm a single man, and this is not the extent of my limitation." Her gaze returns forward, as the damage to her body and clothes reverts. The tattered cape billows out with her steps even as it's being restored to its initial glory.

    "You are a straightforward man. My summation of your battle strategy was correct, although not necessarily your capability. This was something of a surprise to me. But no more!"

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mort gently touches on the ground. "Thanks, Switch." "<Of course, sir. I shall retire to rest a bit more, if you don't mind..>" "Go ahead, man, go ahead." The butterfree yawns and flaps back over to the wolf, curling up on it to sleep. "Yes, I kept it simple this time. No need to be too fancy. I wasn't entirely sure what to expect out of you.. Summoning up a point blank, mass artillery barrage certainly was not in my expectations, but I haven't fought one of you Heroic Spirits before."

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mort gently touches on the ground. "Thanks, Switch." "<Of course, sir. I shall retire to rest a bit more, if you don't mind..>" "Go ahead, man, go ahead." The butterfree yawns and flaps back over to the wolf, curling up on it to sleep. "Yes, I kept it simple this time. No need to be too fancy. I wasn't entirely sure what to expect out of you.. Summoning up a point blank, mass artillery barrage certainly was not in my expectations, but I haven't fought one of you Heroic Spirits before."

     He claps his hands together as the bullet holes in them rewind themselves out of existence. "Sometime, we shall have to find a means of comparing war strategies and tactics in a battle simulation as well! That should be quite entertaining."

Nobunaga has posed:
    "The battle of Nagashino," Nobunaga states plainly, "Where I expertly commanded rifle and yari divisions against the overwhelming might of the Takeda cavalry, and utterly crushed my enemy despite their numerical and mobility advantage." Nobunaga turns around, arms folded, "This is one of many stories I carved into history, and the origin of my Noble Phantasm."

    The warlord spreads those hands, then, "It is but one of many battles to my name, but perhaps my most well known! The Takeda were defeated so soundly that the entire clan collapsed and I seized their lands within a month, you know."

    She then brings a hand up to cradle her chin, "Hooh? You never struck me as an army-level commander. Perhaps a squad leader is what I figured to be your experience."

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     "I think I mostly read about your earlier battles, rather than Nagashino. Honestly it was kinda hard keeping up with the history, people kept changing their damned names every time someone got adopted or whatever. Kind of a weird habit but again, not one I'm unfamiliar with." A brief pause. "Takeda.. I understand that's an important name to /your/ history, but it just.. That's the name of a long-standing ramen chain to mine. It conjures the most peculiar images to my mind.." He shakes his head a bit. "My rank in the Groudan Marines was Field Operations Sergeant, 2nd Class. There are three classes- 1st class was largely concerned with materiel and supply lines, 2nd class is a direct battlefield leader, and 3rd class was more or less relegated to administrative duties. The prevailing theory behind my billet was that, if no officers are present or have all been slain, a trusted Enlisted soldier can take command and continue to lead operations until such time as new officers can take command. In practice.. The enemy targeted our commanding officers so frequently and with such vigor that the General Staff figured screw it, ranking NCOs would have replace them entirely. So between scenarios, they made me take strategic officer training classes as well."

     Reder tortles from atop the massive wolf, which has come to stand beside them, "<At the great city of Ten-Lein, when the Ditto struck down Colonel Al-Dimashqi, Sarge there had to take command of our entire battalion. We held the last bridge into the heart of the city. Even when the Air Forces' Commander Dandachi took the field, he deferred to *my* Sergeant.>" The littl wartortle has a predatory grin and no small hint of pride in his voice. "She's not really gonna have much context fer that battle." "<Yeah, but it's *our* big battle.>"

Nobunaga has posed:
    Nobunaga nods once, "I see, so it's more of a battlefield commission in your force." She grins lightly, "The modern organization always amused me. That a general would avoid the fronts out of petty fear for their lives. This is what makes them insignificant in comparison to someone like myself." She turns around, then, raising her hands and folding them behind her head as she strolls, "If the generals were present to command their forces, than perhaps they would not have a need to rely on enlisted men to do their jobs for them-- wa ha ha ha!"

    Her head turns just enough to glance, "This is the perspective of a warlord from a different era, however. I understand the rules of war have changed. In the same vein-- as you experienced, I am not human, and it would take more than a sniper to end me."

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mortimer nods. "Of course. I take no offense. I was never /supposed/ to have to take that kind of command- at most, I was supposed to lead a Company of maybe 200-ish. That said, I can explain the modern organization to you later if you'd like. There IS a logic behind it, though more than a few people I know would happily say that Generals should definitely lead from the front." A grin is cracked. "I will admit, the looks on the faces of men and women who would, in the past, occupied a position not too dissimilar from yours, as I dictated to and argued with them, was /quite/ enjoyable. Thankfully it was a rare private amusement, most people understood the stakes well enough to just debate rather than bicker."

Nobunaga has posed:
    "Oh, I know about it," Nobunaga waves the comment away dismissively, eyes closed, "I simply don't care for it. However, if you would rather regale me with tales of your war, and listen to tales of mine as you seem so interested in doing, let us do so as civilized beings."

    Nobunaga shifts, reaching under her arm and into her cape. When she pulls it free, she holds a squat round kettle, black, with intricate designs scored into its shell and three little stubby feet protruding from the underside.

    "Over tea!"