Scene #7013: Guda Guda Sidestory: Blade-Testing With The Daimyo!?

Owner	Pose
Muramasa	Cross-legged, a young man with red hair rests a wooden blade on his lap. Its scabbard is a dark red color, laced up with golden twine. The shape of the weapon, though, is odd ... rather, it looks almost deformed, with a blade shorter than a tachi yet longer than a nodachi but a handle that infers a one-handed grip. To begin with, a sword made of wood is strange when it's meant for anything other than practice, isn't it? "This Shrine of Adversity is pretty handy, but maybe I shoul have picked somewhere else. The atmosphere is all wrong." Saber mutters to himself. He came dressed in a white kimono with sea-foam accents and a large red haori trimmed in white designs of various birds. A big, clay jug is set to the side for him to pour his drink from while he waits. It'd be the first time he'd be doing something like this since he was actually alive, now that he thought about it. It was kind of exciting... Well, he'd be lying if he said this wasn't almost entirely motivated by a desire to toy around with new designs and materials. That 'iron wood' stuff was hard to work with, but overall, he was satisfied with the product. In the end, forging it through a combination of traditional methods and magecraft made it a weapon that could rend apart even steel like a hot knife through butter. It was certainly something any lord would want in their collection, but to him, it was fairly useless. Yet, it was a good learning experience. It was a better conductor for conceptual power than metal.
Nobunaga	Pip, pip, pip. A small creature, no more than a meter tall and clad in a black and crimson military costume trots into the Shrine. It's quite easily recognizable-- it's the same figure as on those tapestries Archer gave out. After a few squeaky steps in, the homunculus skids to a halt and whirls around to face the door it just came in through. With some effort, it pushes that grand door closed, then scurries away from it. The door is then dramatically thrust open, slamming fast to the cleats on either side, forced so by a swift kick delivered by a woman in a crimson cape. Wearing that selfsame uniform, though far more intricate and with far more rays projecting from the Sakura sigil upon the brim of her cap, the warlord Oda Nobunaga strides into the Shrine of Adversity, flanked by a formation of those selfsame homunculi. Nobunaga approaches Saber at a confident pace, pausing some five meters from him. Her arms lift, folding across her chest and keeping her cape parted around her body. The various Nobbu accompanying her, however, scatter into the bleachers and form small groups, chattering noisily amidst themselves in their mono-worded language. 'Nobu!' 'Nobu?' 'No nobuno?' 'No nobu!' "I have arrived!" the woman proclaims, "The Demon Archer, the Arsonist of Mount Hiei, the immovable stone against which the surging wave of the Takeda was finally broken!" But that looks nothing like the picture, even Ukiyo-e would at least try!
Muramasa	"Huh. I mean, I expected you to look different, but.." Maybe he should just shut up for now, she probably wouldn't take well to his assumption that her proportions would more closely resemble one of her little homunculi. Archer had called her a 'gremlin', and so... "Nobunaga Oda, welcome." Setting his now empty cup down, Saber places his hand over the scabbard of the Nobokken before rising to his full height. Stopping once he was directly in front of her, he bent down and offered the sword for inspection before they actually got down to brass tacks to fight it out. Two things were clear from the outset; first of all, it was unbearably heavy. A normal human being could not lift this weapon meaningfully, despite how well balanced it was. Secondly, it held a prescence all on its own, indeed, the weapon that had been crafted was easily on the level of a Noble Phantasm all by itself. "Well, I tried to make something 'in your image' so to speak.." Needless to say, whether not success in this regard was good or bad was totally up in the air.
Nobunaga	"I hear that a lot," is Nobunaga's only response to the comment on her appearance. She connects it to those people who expect her to be a man, rather than the horrible truth. Instead, she lifts a hand, eyes closing briefly, "Don't worry about it. I forgive such meaningless mistakes, Swordsmith Saber." He bows. A sword is offered. Nobunaga opens one eye, cast in the shadow of the brim of her hat where that faint crimson glow becomes noticeable, "Hooh?" That same lifted hand is brought down, collecting the sword-- scabbard and all, "You really did craft it entirely of that wood, didn't you?" She observes the heft it has, looking the scabbard over. When she pulls the blade free, she doesn't fully unsheath it. Rather, she only exposes a portion of it, "Oh? The entire blade is... I see! How marvelous, a wooden sword, but I can clearly see its purpose is not practice, but as a true weapon meant for the hand of a warrior." The Nobokken is slid back fully into its scabbard, placed into Saber's hands once more, "I adore new things, and you have delivered. But now," Her head inclines. Sparks of light shoot off, elongating into cast-off arquebi which float around her, forming a slowly rotating ring a meter or so above her, "We must see if it can fulfill the role it wishes to."
Muramasa	Rather than correct her, Saber feels like he dodged another bullet. She sure was dense, wasn't she? Actually, didn't that make his choice in material rather ironic? No, he shouldn't think about it. Meeting that crimson shine with a golden gleam, Muramasa accepts the sword back into his hands and begins to pace backwards, casting an eye to the various floating weapons being summoned and the crowd of Nobbu filling the stands. "Hm. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were insulting me, bringing guns to this." There was a tinge of amusement and just a smidge of confidence in his voice as he turns back around, holding the Nobokken by its scabbard and hovering his other hand over the super-deformed sword's hilt. "I'll take the first move, then. Majin Archer, scourge of Hiei! Bring all of those fancy match-lock guns as you desire. This Nobokken absolutely won't lose. Begin!" Announcing the start, he dashes forward with an iai-slash that cuts twice in one motion; the cutting pressure of the sword leaving its scabbard, followed by the gleaming and polished wood racing to cut her down.
Nobunaga	Nobunaga closes her eyes, lifting her arms to either side in a shrug, "It's not an insult. I can't help what my Noble Phantasm is, after all." One eye opens, following Saber's movement as he steps back. Lowering her hands, she rests one on the hilt of her own katana, drawing it free in one smooth motion and holding it in a ready, one-handed defensive position. "Begin!" The word comes at almost the same instant. An iajutsu slash was expected. Nobunaga's sword is swiftly positioned to defend against it. Steel rings against steel-hard wood, and the force of the impact sends her cape flapping wildly behind her. Slash marks where the air pressure itself carved into that cloth, but also across her uniform. Her expression is one of surprise, eyes wide and staring into the Saber's own face. After just one heartbeat, they narrow, her lips spreading into a grin, "Hooh~? I should be more cautious with you." She can't let him corner her or put her against a wall. She's going to want distance. A further test of this 'Nobokken'. Wait, was that... No, Nobu, fight first! A handful of those floating matchlocks above her head swing down, discharging their ammunition from above. While this is a hazard, her true aim is to kick up dust and use it to break away. Each step casts off more light, forming more rifles floating overhead that she probably intends to use later.
Muramasa	"Hmph!" Saber smirks in response to the look on her face, before shifting into a serious look as he backs away, changing his form to a defensive stance as smoke and dust explodes around him from a barrage of gunshots. He winds up struck in the arm and across one of his temples in his attempts to deflect the worst of the barrage, before taking in a deep breath. "Hiken..'" Holding the Nobokken perpendicular to the ground, he slashed upwards with a delicate flourish to his technique that cuts apart the air, sucking in the smokescreen like a vaccum and, if she wasn't careful, she'd fall into the cut as well! "Well, I suppose I did tell you to bring as many as you wanted, eh?"
Nobunaga	Feeling that pull, Nobunaga pauses to dig her heels in, leaning away. Swordsmanship and magecraft, perhaps? She's not sure how to process just what kind of crazy move this is. Her slashed cape tears further, shorn away scarlet cloth breaking loose and disappearing into the slice. After a moment, her determined expression warps into a mad grin. Well, why not use the enemy's strength as her own strength? Be as Water, the old texts said. Quite suddenly, Nobunaga breaks away from her brace and surges straight into the wind, bounding with the gusts. Her sword twirls up and back, held in both hands now in a classic In no Kamae, the aggressive stance favored by armored samurai that places the sword upright beside the shoulder. As she draws close, the warlord plants a foot, then springs off it into a dash, hurling herself right into the vacuum gusts of the wind slash with such force that she bursts from the other side, already bringing her sword down into a lateral slash that-- If she's imitating those dumb movies closely enough-- should place her somewhere behind him by the time her momentum is gone.
Muramasa	Widening his own eyes in surprise, Saber pulls the Nobokken closer to his body in a defensive maneuver that allows him to deflect her lunging charge away from his center of mass. A shower of sparks fly as wood meets metal and her blade slips from the Nobokken's guard, stabbing deeply through his side and lacerating him. "Gh..!" A cut manifested itself alongside his arm, as if the Nobokken itself were lashing him for a poor performance. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, in the end, all of his swords were like this. They'd kill him just as quickly as an enemy. "You're good on your feet, Demon King of Sixth Heaven. However.." Trailing off, Saber holds his weapon up and breathes in. "Trace On." This was not the stone sword he'd pilfered from Archer's inner world, and it was not the massive Murakumo he'd used to recreate its techniques with, but even so, it was dexturous enough to apply. It was a technique that could truthfully be applied to any 'kind' of weapon, but it was also one that was beyond the limits of the human body. Then again, such things were what he dabbled in, he supposed. If the Nobokken could withstand the Shooting Hundred Heads, then its robust frame wasn't a mistake. It'd have the same hardiness as that massive stone armament. Turning, Saber rushes towards her and brings his sword down in a swiping motion to cleave her in two. But he's not attacking her 'one time'. Rather, she's being assaulted nine times in the same instant. It wasn't something as miraculous as reflecting the same strike through parallel timelines, it was a technique that was far simpler than that. Reinforcing his whole body so that he didn't shatter wholesale under the strain, Saber pushes himsel to godspeed and tries to hack her apart in a flash. "Nine Lives Blade Work!"
Nobunaga	Nine strikes in one instant. The natural progression of the 'two strikes in one' she'd encountered at the very start of the battle. Adding to it, Nobunaga is caught flat-footed as if waiting for something to signify the end of the duel and her obvious victory. Instead, she's assaulted by a magic-enhanced sword. Amidst blood and tattered cloth, she sails, bounces, and tumbles to a stop. "Those movies lied to me..." she mutters, hauling herself back to her feet. After some effort, once again upright, the warlord raises her hand, fist clenched, "KUROSAWA...! My revenge will be swift! But first--" Her hand lashes out, flicking blood as she points directly at Saber, "You!" Her hand lowers, sweeping to one side. The other sheaths her sword and then mirrors the other, as she brings them up at the level of her hips, fingers curled upward. Her approach is slow, and each step sends off motes of light which elongate into more floating rifles, joining those which float haphazardly about the arena at this point, "You are to Prostrate your corpse before Three Thousand souls upon the Three Steps of Nagashino..." Firing locks click back into position, as each of the countless weapons suddenly swings around to take aim, "Witness the Demon King's descent! Behold the stone which breaks the pounding waves! My Three Line Formation!" Without hesitation roughly a third of those rifles fire, disappearing right away. The next third fires, disappearing while the first wave rematerializes. The third wave fires, while the first takes aim and the second reappears. A repeating volley of matchlock rifles that fills the Shrine with gunsmoke and noise.
Muramasa	"Gh..." The stress he'd put on his whole body; his bones, his organs, and his muscles couldn't be understated. If he'd aimed with more care to kill her, he might have been able to, but that wasn't on the itinerary. No, that was a little too arrogant, right? He had the feeling she could have survived even if he'd put his all into going for her vitals. Now he had to worry about getting blown to bits by that formation. He was an abnormal servant and thus couldn't recover himself like normal, injuries would need to heal the old fashioned way. "So this is the true face of your Noble Phantasm..!" Saber charges, using one hand to tear off his red haori. "Trace On!" Blue-green lines spread over its form as he reinforces it, allowing it to shield him for but a moment before it gets blown away. And in that instant, the Nobokken flashes forwards to defend him, even as holes get shot into his arms and legs, he simply reinforces what's broken and keeps moving. So long as his head and heart are preserved, he can keep moving. "SEIYAAAAAH!!" He was sure he must have looked like a Berserker, charging forwards like that. But there was no other option, nowhere to run, and no real way to defend himself. He'd just have to put his all into this next one, he supposes. The Nobokken is thrusted with all of his sword ki concentrating into the tip, causing a blast of wind and the sword's own malice to erupt as it tries to skewer her with the force of a cannon shot.
Nobunaga	The gunfire is relentless. No sooner has one line of rifles expended itself that another is ready. The true storm of iron and shot that broke that cavalry line, so long ago. Through the roar of gunshots, the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven laughs, loud and long and cruel. Her figure may be obscured by smoke, but that ominous glow in her eyes is unmistakable, hard to miss, threatening and-- obvious. Saber thrusts. The smoke violently parts around the unseen burst of force from his weapon. The gunfire abruptly stops. As the smoke clears, Nobunaga clutches her chest, shuddering. Blood spills, and she collapses to one knee. She's still trying to laugh, but it comes out as a hoarse, mocking gasp now. Mana leaks from her, golden motes of light, telltale signs of a fading Servant. Then it abruptly ceases when the Shrine asserts its time fuckery. Nobunaga's outline briefly jumps through a few different iterations, in the space of a second or so, before she wobbles to her feet, blinking owlishly. ... "Well fought!"
Muramasa	Blood drips from Saber's many wounds. He really might die from this; of course he was able to stave off his own death and avoid being blown to pieces by the Three-Line Formation, but it was just a temporary solution. A slab of flex-tape applied to a horrible leak with expanding cracks. Nobunaga begins to disappear with a hoarse, sardonic gasp and Saber stares quietly into her eyes, his own beginning to dull. And then, the both of them were completely back to normal. Not a single drop of blood or a frayed hair, even their clothes were restored to perfect condition. "Hmph. You bounce back quickly -- rather, I suppose you're just easygoing. The Three-Line Formation was truly formidable." It had been arrogant of him to think of pulling his punches earlier. And, truthfully, he'd forgotten that he'd picked the Shrine of Adversity for this exclusively for its restorative powers. Was his mind already going that badly? ... Well, the Nobokken still passed every physical stress it had been placed under. "It's a little unwieldy and prone to trying to bite off more than it can chew, but I'd call this one alright, as far as how my swords usually turn out."
Nobunaga	Resting a hand on her hip, Nobunaga closes her eyes and throws back her head to let loose that characteristic, boistrous laugh. The sort of laugh that one might expect from a man three times her size; though still in her voice, that's the kind of confidence she exhudes, "I paid the price for playing it coy with you early! A valuable lesson in humility, that's for sure." Arms folding, Nobunaga leans forward, "It's eager to prove itself, as a new implment of war. That kind of spirit is admirable, isn't it?" An eye closes, lips parting in a grin, "Though also reckless, such eagerness rarely thinks of contengencies and relies on strength until that strength fails. I wonder what it will do when that happens?" Leaning back, her expression shifts to neutral, "Will it adapt and overcome this new challenge, or continue to throw itself fruitlessly forward until it is destroyed? That is a critical point in any warrior's growth, after all." "As for you," Nobunaga's eyes close, "Your work pleases me! You clearly care for the blades you craft, and pay crucial attention to the soul you infuse in your work. Your craftsmanship contains not only functional strength but artistic merit. Continue, and you shall be an asset no matter where you go!"
Muramasa	As she appraises the Nobokken's personality, he nodded along if only slightly. If he were being honest, as far as his swords went, this was probably on the tamer side. Of course, it would try to possess whoever took hold of it, but if only could say it with a straight face, it was probably more on the softer side of cruelty. "Mm. I wonder if it'll leave the demonic realm...no, it most likely won't, but one could hope." Receiving praise for his work, Saber humbly does a half-bow. "Coming from the daimyo, that's some high praise. If others can find worth in the blades I make, then even ones like this aren't a mistake."