[hider=Kensaki Kashou] [b]Name:[/b] Kensaki Kashou [b]Age:[/b] 28 [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Occupation:[/b] Occasional mercenary [b]Demeanor:[/b] Kensaki nearly always displays an attitude of chilling, icy calm. It is difficult to rile him to anger, and even if achieved it likely would not show upon his face. He also exudes an air of superiority, especially when speaking to warriors he deems unworthy. [u][b]Basic Appearance:[/b][/u] [b]Hair:[/b] Shoulder length, extremely dark brown. Usually worn pulled back into a loose ponytail. [b]Facial Hair:[/b] None. Kensaki shaves meticulously each morning. [b]Eyes:[/b] Blue grey, the color of ice [b]Build:[/b] Tall, with a lean yet muscular physique [b]Height:[/b] Just short of six feet [b]Weight: [/b] 182 lbs [b]Special Features:[/b] Kensaki favors the traditional clothing of his homeland, including a pair of geta, platformed wooden sandals, that add around three inches to his height. [IMG]http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b323/Taoofbalance/Aethier/Kensaki01e.jpg[/IMG] (This image was commissioned specifically for Kensaki) [u][b]Combat Credentials:[/b][/u] Combat Style: Kensaki has developed his own style of combat, for which he has no name. The style is a combination of an art known as the Shadowed Palm, in which Kensaki was originally trained as a youth, and the art of swordplay. As the name implies, the Shadowed Palm style relies heavily on deception and manipulation, and Kensaki has adopted and improved many of their methods, including various nerve strikes and other disabling techniques. The key principle of Kensaki's art is lethality with all parts of one's body; Kensaki's open left hand, elbows, knees, feet, or even head can be just as dangerous as his blade. [u][b]Abilities:[/b][/u] [b]Martial Artist:[/b] Kensaki is very well versed in both the Shadowed Palm as well as his own adapted style. [b]Weapon Training:[/b] Kensaki's knowledge of weaponry and their use is restricted mainly to the katana, and he has trained extensively in its use. However, due to the unique nature of the blade he has carried for over a decade, it is likely that his skill would greatly suffer were he forced to use a more mundane sword. [b]Blindfight:[/b] Even from a young age, Kensaki was blessed with a very keen sense of hearing. Over his years of training, he has honed this sense until it borders on echolocation. Due to the unique nature of his sword, he has also trained himself to be able to pick out particular sounds from within a greater body of noise, and can even fight with the larger part of his ability after losing his sense of sight. [b]Gouitsu:[/b] Kensaki utilizes a mental technique developed by the progenitor of the Shadowed Palm school and passed down to its greatest pupils over the generations. At its basic level, the technique allows the user to shut out any distracting emotions or thoughts, allowing total focus. Those who have mastered the technique, however, are able to keep their mind from registering even pain. This ability is both extraordinarily powerful and extremely dangerous when used in this manner; pain acts as a warning signal for when our bodies are put under undue physical stress, causing us to cease the behavior before true harm is done. However, these 'limits' under which our bodies place us are nowhere near the actual capability of the human body. Essentially, when using this technique, one can seemingly become superhumanly fast, strong, and resistant to physical damage, though at a rather steep price. While the human body has amazing potential, it can only take so much punishment, and any injuries sustained while using the technique, as well as any incurred by pushing the body beyond its actual, physical limits, are just as harmful as they would be were the technique not employed, often compounded by the fact that the user cannot feel the damage. The technique is also not infallible, as extremely strong emotional states or high enough levels of pain can interrupt the concentration required to maintain it. [u][b]Gear:[/b][/u] [b]--Head:[/b] Woven conical hat, often worn hanging at his back from a cord around his neck. [b]--Shoulders:[/b] N/A [b]--Torso:[/b] Black sleeveless haori (traditional coat) that hangs to the knees. [b]---Underclothes:[/b] Dark grey traditional kimono, cut loosely as though made for dueling [b]--Right Arm:[/b] N/A [b]--Left Arm:[/b] Specially made glove with padded steel caps over middle two fingers and thumb [b]--Feet:[/b] 3" platformed geta, plated with steel upon the underside [b]--Primary Weapon:[/b] Requiem [b]--Secondary Weapon:[/b] Kensaki's entire body is a weapon [b]Requiem:[/b] A unique katana in Kensaki's possession, forged by a master swordsmith using an otherworldly metal that was extracted from a meteor. The sword is several inches longer than the average katana, as though forged for a very tall warrior, and can appear anywhere from slate grey to a nearly black charcoal color depending on viewing angle and light. The strange metal from which it was forged has several strange properties, the least of which is its incredible strength in combination with its light weight when compared to steel. Whenever drawn or struck against any surface, the blade begins to ring with a strange sonic resonance that seems to grow in strength rather than die out as one would expect. This 'song', as Kensaki thinks of it, has the likely unintended effect of increasing the sword's cutting power due to the incredibly fast vibration of the blade. The sword is accompanied by a set of four tuning forks of varying size, the result of years of experimentation by the smith, each of which is forged from the same otherwordly metal. Each fork produces its own song when struck against the blade, and the different resonances have strange but powerful effects. [i]--Large Fork: Mekura (Blindness):[/i] When struck against the sword, this fork produces a low pitched, slowly oscillating vibration. After a moment, anyone who can hear this sound, including the wielder, will see a pinpoint of inky blackness expand from the center of their vision until they are engulfed in total darkness. The ability lasts until the fork is stilled or the vibration stops naturally (about two minutes). [i]--Medium Large Fork: Shindou Nami (Shockwave):[/i] When struck against the sword, this fork produces a quickly oscillating vibration that gathers intensity as it sings. When struck again against the sword during an outward swing, the vibration is transferred to the blade and channeled to the tip, releasing outward in the form of a sonic shockwave. The ability increases in power the longer the wielder allows the vibration to increase in intensity before releasing it, although it quickly becomes painful and even dangerous if left for too long. [i]--Medium Small Fork: Shouten (Death):[/i] When struck against the sword, this fork produces a wildly oscillating, chaotic vibration that is somewhat painful to the average human ear. It is particularly jarring to those, like Kensaki, who have especially keen hearing. When struck again against the sword, this wild vibration transfers to the blade itself, but apparently magnified by several factors. At this point, anything struck by the blade has this destructive resonance transferred into it, once again magnified by several factors, with devastating results. If the blade strikes a living creature, the vibrations literally tear them apart; even if blocked by blade or shield, the vibration will transfer to the wielder, though it will lose some potency by travelling through an object not made of the black star metal. Even so, the vibrations are enough to shatter bones and tear flesh, effectively ending the ability to fight. This ability has an enormous drawback, however, as when the blade strikes a person or object, some of the resonance will backlash into the wielder, causing hundreds of fractures and severe muscular damage throughout the sword arm and shoulder. [i]--Small Fork: -- :[/i] Kensaki has not yet dared to experiment with this fork, given the incredibly dangerous nature of its larger counterparts, and the notable pattern of an increase in power corresponding to the decrease in size of the fork. [u][b]History:[/b][/u] The story of Kensaki Kashou begins with a young boy by the name of Ando, the son of a poor shepherd in a rural province of Osaku, a small country far from the Realm. Osaku had long been a land of peace until only a few years after Ando's birth, when a neighboring realm invaded and conquered the country with very little trouble, turning the populace into little better than brutally oppressed serfs. Ando's own father was amongst those few who had fought against the invaders, and while he survived the fighting, he was unfortunately amongst those of whom an example was made via particularly harsh treatment, and only survived a few further years. Thus it was that at the age of eight, Ando found himself alone in a harsh world, with nothing left to him other than a flock to tend which he did not technically own. He was allowed to tend and sheer them so long as he paid the monthly tithes that had been imposed upon his father before him, and managed to scrape by only by accepting what very small kindnesses the others of his village could offer when no one was looking. Less than a year passed before the event that would shape Ando's fate, though he knew it not at the time. On a fateful but otherwise normal evening, Ando fell asleep while tending his flock only to be woken by thunder after night had fallen. The gathering storm had scattered a few of his sheep, and Ando wasted no time in setting out to collect them before the weather grew too fierce. Just as he finished and set out toward his hovel, he saw a strange, gathering orange light in the sky above, as though the storm itself had been set ablaze. Transfixed, he watched in awe as the light grew, until it was accompanied by a rising roar of sound, loud enough to cause the young boy to clap his hands to his ears, crying out in pain. The cause of both sound and light soon became apparent as a ball of fire parted the clouds, rocketing down to hit the ground a mere hundred yards from where Ando cowered in terror, throwing out an enormous shockwave that threw him from his feet. As Ando fell, he struck his head and fell into unconsciousness. When he awoke, head aching fiercely, it was morning, and the air was heavy with smoke and the smells of molten earth, singed wool, charred meat....and something else....an odd metallic scent, acrid and foreign. A short distance away, a team of men wearing the colors of Lord Ashigua, the cruel governor of the province, labored at the edge of a large crater with ropes and pulleys, having either failed to notice or failed to care about the nearby wounded child. Wiping blood from his nose and ears, Ando tottered laboriously toward the edge of the crater, feeling drawn to see what lay within. As he grew closer, he could make out a large, oddly crafted cauldron of sorts being lowered into the pit. The men below, each wrapped in layers of soaking wet cloth, appeared to be attempting to scrape a partially molten substance from the floor of the crater into the cauldron using long poled tools, as though collecting it, while another, more finely dressed man watched and made notations onto a scroll. Before Ando could see more, he was spotted by one of the men holding the ropes and ordered away. Not daring to resist, Ando managed to half walk, half crawl his way to his hovel, where he fell into a deep sleep that lasted several days. The next years were difficult for Ando, though the oppressive rule over his country actually lessened to a degree as the invaders began to turn their attention to lands beyond Osaku for further conquest. Lord Ashigua himself was rarely even seen at home in the provincial capital of Hagaami, only a few dozen leagues from the village where Ando was raised. The Lord had become something of a legend to his own people, a hero of war said to possess a magical sword with amazing powers. Tales and superstition surrounding him had spread like wildfire, and Ando of course heard them, living as he was on the streets of Hagaami, scrounging the occasional meal or even more occasional bit of work. He had always suspected that the magical sword was connected somehow to what he had seen, and could not help but feel that he had been somehow cheated of his destiny, that the meteor had been sent to him to destroy Osaku's oppressors but instead had ended up as their greatest boon. Whenever the Lord was in the city, Ando could almost feel the sword behind the walls of the Lord's Manor grounds. Sometimes he even thought he could hear it speak to him in unintelligible whispers, though he dismissed it as his imagination. The Osakans were unable to resist their conquerors in any unified sense, but many fought the oppression in what ways they could. It was punishable by slow death for any Osakan to hold a weapon, and so many began to turn to the ancient arts of their people, long forgotten by all but a few aged masters, in which the body itself could be trained to become a weapon. This was less an attempt to train themselves to fight, and more of a way to secretly resist the invaders, though many young men who found their way to these hidden schools harbored dreams of heroically throwing off their metaphorical chains. Ando was amongst this group, and trained with a vigor that is generally only seen in those who have lost everything. His master, an elderly farmer who had inherited the secrets of the Shadowed Palm from his grandfather, saw Ando's potential early in his training, along with that of several other students. Over the course of years, he taught them to hone their skills while at the same time attempting to temper the rage in their hearts, teaching them to use their inner strength to endure and outlast this time of darkness. Unfortunately, these lessons fell on deaf ears in Ando's case, and as he grew stronger and older, he began to belief his dreams of heroics could be a reality. Perhaps he could have his revenge against the Lord who had caused his father's death and become the symbol his people needed. In his seventeenth year, eight years after beginning his training in the Shadowed Palm, Ando put into action a plan he had long harbored to reclaim his destiny. By this time, Lord Ashigua's days of conquest were done, and he had retired back to live full time in Hagaami, though his lands had been vastly expanded in accordance with his success in the wars. Ando watched carefully and learned the schedule of the Lord's guards, and managed to slip into his manor late one night. He carefully made his way through to the Lord's trophy room, having bribed a servant to learn the layout of the sprawling home, where the legendary sword was said to be kept. As the household slept, Ando stole the blade along with a small case containing four objects he could not identify that were made from the same strange metal as the sword. When he drew the blade from its scabbard to finally look upon it, a small shockwave of vibration lanced through his body, not exactly painful though it did trigger one of his frequent headaches, and the sword began to emit an unsettling keening hum that rose and fell in pitch, like some sort of otherworldly song. Through the already receding pain in his head, Ando thought he could almost hear a haunting, childish laugh. Then, in a scene too gruesome for adequate description, the young former shepherd began to kill the guards who came, drawn by the sword's dark song, finishing by stalking upstairs and killing the aging lord himself, catching the man in the midst of frantically dressing himself. The Lord had no family to spare, and so Ando left no one alive in his wake. The following day, the authorities wasted no time in appointing an interim Lord and commencing the search for the murderer, but Ando as a former street urchin had little trouble hiding himself in the city. So it was that Ando strode into the presence of his master and the other top student, proudly carrying the sheathed sword and woefully unaware of the true consequences of his actions. With a heavy heart, his master told Ando of the brutality of the response to the murders. More Osakans had been killed in the past days than in the past years combined, and the violence would apparently continue until the murderer was turned in. Tearfully, Ando tried to convince his master of what he felt in his heart, that this was why their people needed to stand against the storm and fight their way to freedom, but it was to no avail. With an apology for his failure to help Ando control his rage, he asked the young man to turn himself in. Perhaps if events had turned out slightly differently in the past, things would have been different for Osaku. As it was, however, it seemed that events conspired against the country and its people, for it was at that moment that Ando heard the voice in his head, the same that had whispered to him in the past, the same that had laughed when he had first drawn the blade. "Kill them," the sword whispered harshly, for that was what Ando came to believe in that moment. This sword, it was alive, and it spoke to him. For a moment he could only stare down at the sheathed blade in his hand, then slowly his rage began to gather deep inside, his anger at his years on the street, at having to watch his people slowly strangled to death by oppression, at having his destiny stolen by Ashigua, at his fathers death, and, of course, at his master and fellow students for their inability to understand. His eyes narrowed and his hand slowly went to the hilt of the blade, as his master read the emotions on the young mans face and cried out for the others to seize him. He was too late. A tragically misguided, soul tortured youth had walked into the school that day, proud of his first step toward freedom, but it was an entirely different person that walked out spattered in the combined blood of his fellows and his master. It would take a cold man indeed to do what this man did next; he simply left. Left Hagaami, left Osaku to its fate in the wake of his actions. He abandoned his very identity that day, even his name. Ando was a fool. Ando was dead, as dead as his people, so far as he was concerned, for they had forsaken him even though he had given everything. His destiny lay elsewhere, it seemed, and it was tied somehow to the sword at his side, to its whispered voice in his head. The irony, of course, is that the man who once was Ando was wrong about the blade, which he named Requiem. It was not sentient at all, though it was connected to the voice in a manner of speaking. Ando's childhood head injury during the meteor strike had caused light brain damage, which had been slightly worsened by Requiem's resonating vibrations, and had just begun to noticeably affect his perceptions. In essence, he was only beginning to suffer from a form of madness, the voice a representative of the immense bundle of the young man's suppressed emotions and base desires. This man would disappear for some time, holed up somewhere in the countryside far from curious travelers and prying eyes, training to master the strange blade and incorporate it fully into a combat style. When he emerged years later, he had taken a new name, a new identity. Kensaki Kashou, 'the blade that sings' in the ancient, nearly dead language of his people. Stories quickly began to spread in all directions wherever he traveled. The oddly clothed man who roamed from town to town, city to city, country to country, challenging the greatest fighters to combat him and his terrible, otherworldly blade, and reportedly winning against all comers. Those with a reputation for strength of arms flocked at first to be the one to defeat the legend, but soon any but the strongest of warriors began to fear his name. [/hider]