Athanasius

Avatar - The Fall of Si Wong City

Daisuke Sato

Prelude

Daisuke’s vision swam as the second blow landed and his body turned dispelling some of the force like his grandfather had taught him. The first strike had been worse, he hadn’t expected it, and the drill instructor enjoyed beating discipline into his fresh recruits. The other boys had cautiously and almost imperceptibly stepped back from him.

“When I want an answer, I’ll ask” Masahiro, the seasoned sergeant, yelled, spittle spraying across Daisuke’s cheek. But he did not flinch, he showed no fear even though his bowels were turning to water. Doubtless the young man was recalling Aikido’s final words of advice

“Every moment, every interaction is a test. Show them no weakness my boy, remember who you are.”

The Sergeant stepped to the right, giving a sideways glance which held his usual disdain and a touch of appraisal. “We do not fight for riches; we do not fight for fame. If you believe that then you had best leave now, you are no conscripts, and I welcome any of you weak willed shits to walk away and save me the trouble of beating you out over the next few months.” His withering glare passed slowly, noting every boy that met his eyes and those that did not. “The Nation you help to build is greater and more important then any one of you. Accept that.”

Daisuke’s chest puffed up, and he looked very much like a man who has found the place he fits perfectly. And though the training was rough, and violent, he excelled.

3 years later - Graduation
“Squad Leaders!” Masahiro, flanked by two higher ranking officers, who at this point Daisuke had never seen, though one of the officer’s insignia denoted that he was a General. The recruits were, for the first time, allowed to wear the uniform of the Fire Nation. Daisuke was given permission to wear his grandfather’s swords rather than the standard issue steel. They were all sitting in rows, forming a long rectangular formation. On the sides of their formation were shirtless firebenders, all of whom had graduated the year prior. “When your name is called stand!” Masahiro reached inside his red tunic and pulled forth a scroll, clearing his throat:

“Asaka Yasuhiko” A young man three rows and to the right stood, and the firebenders on each side moved in unison. Their left feet stepped forward and planted as their right hand formed a fist while it drove upward and released a powerful blast. Daisuke inched forward in his seat, he had been at the top of his class, first in nearly every area. His firebending was remarked upon by every instruct-

“Fushimi Hiroyasu” Again, a man stood, and received the fire salute from his new brothers. Daisuke’s hands gripped the seam of his trousers above the knee, his jaw rippled where his teeth were clenched.

“Takeda Tsuneyoshi” The roar of flames filled the open air again. Masahiro had always been hard on Daisuke, though it would be beyond belief if he allowed that to compromise his judgement. Sweat was forming on Daisuke’s brow. To do what he needed to do he must lead.

“Daisuke Sato”

18 months later – Southern Isle Raiding
Fire raged through the air in the distance, and Daisuke ran towards it with his squad. The fight was not going well. Government forces had moved to take an operating base from Warlord Toz. Nation forces had taken the beach under a storm of heat and flame, and they secured a rock outcropping from which to begin orchestrating a deeper strike inland. Slowly they gained ground, but they paid for it in blood. The warlord’s forces were savage, and skilled both in hand to hand combat and bending.

The base loomed before him, little more than a shipping outpost surrounded by hastily constructed barricades.

Daisuke sprinted ahead of his squad and leapt into the air, spinning and bringing his heel around in an arc. A scythe of flame whipped out and tore through the crates and sharpened pikes. Smoke billowed and Daisuke heard the scream of a burning man. They hadn’t been expecting an attack on the western side, which is what Daisuke had been counting on when he petitioned the commander to land 2 miles west around the horn of the island.

The main force was set to attack that morning at dawn, and the larger, though less disciplined militia, would hopefully meet them with force hoping to drive them into the sea and leaving only a skeleton force at the port.
He and his men took the ramshackle fortress rather easily, they dispatched with the few men left behind. Aikido’s blade tasted blood again, and Daisuke raised the Fire Nations flag while his men sounded their signal horns. The warlords troop naturally believed they were now hopelessly surrounded and surrendered, dropping their weapons in the dirt.

It was a good day.

8 years later – Defeat at the Black Cliffs

Daisuke’s hand began to shake, he reached toward his tunic before pulling back with a small jerk. The flask inside called to him, perhaps now more than ever. Oh how simple his path had seen after his first victory so many years ago. He clenched his fist harder to stop the shaking.

At his feet laid the body of Ichiki Kitokuro, face twisted upward in a haunting snarl chest crushed and burned. Ichiki had been with him since the very beginning, he was in Daisuke’s squad when they graduated, and he had followed him ever since. Daisuke had reached captain, and Ichiki a lieutenant in his company.

He knelt down, ignoring the sword cut in his side which had soaked his red robes to a deep crimson. Daisuke closed his eyes, “Thank you, old friend, please forgive me…” Time and again they had defeated the enemy, outmaneuvering, out thinking, finding the tiniest weaknesses, but not today.

Today Daisuke sacrificed 25 men because he knew better, he always knew better.

The General said the defenses were too strong.

Daisuke knew better.

Reconnaissance said that the enemy’s garrison had received reinforcements in the middle of the night, their assault would be impossible.

“Their right wall was still weak, ten thousand troops would make no difference” Daisuke said, because he knew better.

The sounds of fighting began to die down, the Fire Nations flag flew high, he had been right ironically. The wall did collapse under fire from his troops, but he lost half his force just reaching the wall. Daisuke went with them and was the first through the gap, and even in the fog of war he felt that everything was wrong. There were too few men by his side, the enemy believed they had a chance and pressed in. His katana cut a swath, his bursts of flame in defense as much as offense. Catching enemy counter thrusts and dispersing them.

They were calling this a victory, but the cost was too high, his company was decimated and would have to return to the capital to be re-equipped and re-manned.

Daisuke yanked out the flask now, pulling hard from it, tears running down his cheeks. He screamed to the heavens, a bout of flame ascending into the sky.

Caldera had always been a loud city, the streets teeming with vendors, each competing for the ears of passerby’s. Daisuke’s hand tightened around the reigns of his steed, pulling him close to heel as he guided him slowly through the throngs of people. The city had a certain Charm that relied almost entirely on the mood of it’s viewer. To a young idealistic child, it had seemed a wonderland of possibility, a coiled serpent ready to strike out and envelop the surrounding isles. Daisuke had stood in awe of it at 16, his greatest hopes finding a place to put down roots.

But today, at 28, coming off a pyrrhic victory and the loss of his closest friend. Today these streets felt like a cold hand tightening around his neck. He pulled his cowl up around his head, retreating into it's shadows as he approached a large open square. In the center of this opening was a raised platform, anchored in the trampled, dead, tan dirt. Atop it stood a small, nervous little man, his red uniform pulled tight around his midsection while beads of sweat ran down his seemingly too-long forehead. His bowl like eyes scanned the crowd, and as he opened his mouth a deep and resonant baritone rang out. The voice was such a shocking departure from the body that Daisuke could not be sure if the crowd quieted in surprise or curiosity.

“I call your attention to the words of Our Sages and Our Esteemed Leaders!” He unrolled a scroll which had gone unnoticed hanging at his side. “Upon the Black Cliffs the blight of Toz the Pretender has been driven back once again!” Murmuring ran through the crowd, the snide little man added weight and volume to “once” and “again”. He was not lying, for Daisuke himself had handed many defeats to the Warlords forces, but the burgeoning government along with the sages were very… inclined… to present the war as all but won. Despite the fact that Toz had been holding and recovering ground remarkably well. The men and women further South believed in him, for some strange reason they had aligned themselves with their oppressor. Oh, how often the sentiment of the down-trodden turned after receiving mere crumbs from the masters table.

“Our Esteemed Leader’s Commander in the Field was Daisuke Sato, The Thorn in Toz’s Foot, and he brought home glory once again as he lead the charge through fire and flame! Nearly a hundred garrisoned troops fell at his hand alone!” Daisuke’s stomach began to churn, elated gasps and a smattering of cheers broke out in the crowd, and Daisuke turned away and drew his stallion to the perimeter of the square. Men and women parted before him as the devilish man with a golden tongue droned on. Daisuke had killed a fair number, though it was a necessity not a pleasure, and his men had, as always, carried the brunt of the fighting.

Cheers began to erupt in earnest, Daisuke pulled hard at the reigns and began to body his way through the crowd. Objections to his rudeness were swallowed after seeing his uniform and Captains insignia. Where were the cheers for Ichiki!?. The Heroes, as was so often the case, were left behind on the field of battle, consigned to the histories. Rage filled tears ran down his cheeks as he finally cleared the crowd and pushed onward towards his destination.

----
The hauntingly beautiful sound of a violin reverberated within the large tavern. The Dancing Dragon was three stories high, rather unusual for a Calderan tavern, but that was not the reason it stood apart. In the middle of the building was an open courtyard, in the center stood an elaborate stage. Only the greatest performers in Caldera played, acted, or spoke upon that stage, and with the heightened skill came an exclusivity in patronage. Over time it became a well-known gathering place for military officers, government officials, and aspiring oligarchs. If you wanted to broker power in comfort, you came to the Dancing Dragon.

Today Daisuke nursed a rather noxious spirit, an in-house concoction designed to loosen the inhibitions and purse-strings of any who partook. Daisuke had promised himself he would not imbibe, the meeting he was approaching was far to important, though after the announcements in the square… Daisuke found his will weakened. He took another sip, beating down the urge to finish the entire glass, doubtless there were eyes already on him and he could not afford to telegraph any weakness. He set the glass down and peered over the ornate lattice work on his second story balcony.

She played magnificently, and her movements were nearly as enticing as his drink. Long pink sleeves reached to her knees as she slowly danced. Skillfully, she played the Ballad of the Sun Warriors, and all conversation in the building barely exceeded an intimate whisper out of reverence to her ability. Daisuke watched her face, pensive and serious, as she commanded the attention of all in ear shot.

A creaking of hinges and groaning floorboards intruded on Daisuke’s reverie, as a lithe older man slipped into the opposite seat. He pivoted his chair inward, crossed his legs at the knee and smoothed out his black trousers. Daisuke took one last sip, allowing his gaze to linger on the artist for a moment more. She was approaching the climax of the piece, and Daisuke enjoyed even this small act of impudence. Looking at him was a man with no title, no real name, and near limitless power; he was the spymaster for the Seven Sages and he had requested this meeting.

Daisuke set his glass down on the smooth obsidian tabletop as he turned towards the new arrival. “I appreciate the invitation, though I don’t know what services or information I can provide that you don’t already have in abundance.” The man’s face tightened with a narrow grin as, under a heavy brow, his sharp blue eyes locked with Daisuke’s. A chill ran up his spine, “That said, I am happy to be of service.”

“Have you enjoyed your time back in Caldera?” And with that question Daisuke knew he was in dangerous territory, the summons had been clear: When you return to the Capital, come to the second floor of the Dancing Dragon, ask for Uzumaki, and wait in the viewing box. But Daisuke had other matters to attend to, namely visiting the families of the men who had died under his command. The Spymaster was not engaging in pleasantries, he was making an accusation.

“I have, thank you. Returning home is always pleasant, even when I am tasked with the heavy burden of notifying the families of the fallen of Our Sages gratitude and respect” Daisuke had to walk a fine line, he couldn’t just come out and say that the families of his men were imminently more important than the political machinations of this man.

“Hmm. I am quite sure they appreciated hearing it from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.” He shifted almost imperceptibly in his chair “My understanding is that the plan was flawlessly executed, if not without cost.”

Daisuke inclined his head, suddenly increasingly aware of the hard, wooden, back of his chair and the burning desire for more alcohol. “The cost was high, good men, very good men, died for Our Nation that day. The strategic value of the Black Cliffs is undeniable.”

The narrow smile was back “Your company has come back to refit, ideally so you can resume winning battles and securing glory for our united people” He looked out, over the balcony, scanning the faces of the other patrons. The spymaster clasped his hands neatly in his lap and lowered his voice “None of them know the cost, they drink and cavort, and never spare a thought to the human capital expended to secure their safety. And yet, we need them. They are the economic and bureaucratic backbone that allows us to stand upright.” His head snapped back to Daisuke “But you and I, we not only understand the cost, we calculate and pay it.” Daisuke could no longer hear the violinist, his heart pounded in his ears. This shedding of decorum was off-putting, it was a tactic, what could be so important that The Spymaster would attempt to ingratiate himself with a mere Captain?

“Toz has left the Southern Isles. He is heading for Si Wong to rally support for foreign involvement in the war. Doubtlessly he will whore out the Fire Islands in exchange for a paper crown. And I” He paused “-we would prefer that not happen.”

Daisuke reached for the glass, and he drained it.

Fight the urge. Don't give in. Stay human. [TEASER]

I’m interested as well, let me know when it goes live and I’ll be happy to fill out a CS.

Avatar - The Fall of Si Wong City

Daisuke Sato

Daisuke Sato

_{’They look at us and see disparate islands, and so they do not fear us. I see a singular people, that, if united, could make the world quake’}

---

Character Age: 28

Character Gender: Male

Character Race: Fire Nation

Bending: Fire Bender, skilled but not a master.

Skills: Daisuke is a leader of men, a visionary, and he has never struggled to bring people to his chosen cause. He has been described by his superiors as a brilliant tactician and strategist, accomplishing missions with minimal casualties while exceeding operational expectations. He is a trained killer, and he excels at leading others of the same breed.

Weaknesses: Like any man who finds success at a young age, his arrogance is untempered by age, and it shows. Oftentimes Daisuke has hindered his advancement due to an inability to come under leadership he doesn’t respect. Most recently said arrogance lead him into rash action in the field, and while his company accomplished their mission there were significant casualties.

Beyond his personality Daisuke self-medicates his extreme stress with alcohol, while, in the past, he could play it off as enjoying a drink after a hard day, he now always keeps liquor on his person. Slowly but surely, he is losing control of this vice.

His bending lacks the finesse necessary to take the next step into a near-mastery level. A lifetime of training focused on efficiency and explosiveness works well on the battlefield but has not lent itself to fine technique.

Possessions: Daisuke owns little outside of his ideals, his only prized possessions are his katana and tanto, both received from his grandfather.

Biography: Daisuke was just a boy when his parents were killed by raiding parties in the Eastern Fire Islands. They were not warriors, neither of them could even bend, yet they were cut down all the same. Daisuke had been spirited away by his father and hidden in the brush while the village was sacked. The child was wracked with silent sobs as he heard the screams and panic carry throughout the small fishing community.

He had emerged to find his world altered beyond all understanding, the few survivors sought refuge at Shu Jing, carting along a near catatonic Daisuke. Through no effort of his own, he was deposited with his Grandfather, Aikido Tanaka, a man faced with the loss of a daughter and the responsibility of a child at the same time. Their shared grief brought them closer, and Aikido loved Daisuke as he would have his own son. Aikido was an old man, but his bending had not deteriorated, and the skills he had honed fighting under various warlords were passed on to a hungry Daisuke.

Daisuke, was shaped by that event. As he grew, he heard of the new push for Unity in Caldera City. Would any raider dare to enter a united Fire Nation? Separated, why should any enemy fear nibbling at the edges, killing and raiding away from the cities? Daisuke had found his purpose, and Aikido responded as a man who had a premonition of this event. Daisuke had always shown far more promise than he had, and a vengeful spirit had been growing in Daisuke’s chest for many years.

At merely 16 years, Daisuke left his grandfather’s house, and armed with their family steel he set out for Caldera City to join the new Fire Nation, and he knew in his heart, that he would bring unity to his people or die in the attempt.

Sadly, things were not so easy or so simple. He arrived in Caldera and found out what most children do upon entering the wider world, things are far more complicated and rarely black and white. He enlisted in the Fire Nations military, a grueling academy where he spent three years in training and low-level service environments.

At every level he exceeded expectations. From bending to close combat, and strategic planning to logistics. He was not always the most naturally gifted, but he had the drive necessary to out work his peers. He had learned at a young age with his grandfather, that without hard work talent means nothing.

When he graduated the academy he was honored by being appointed a squad leader, and three men were placed under his command. One of which became a dear friend, Ichiki Kitokuro, Together they began embarking on small missions in the southern isles. Daisukes young squad began to get some attention as they racked up completed objectives one after another. So often in battle, it is the tiniest thing which guarantees victory: Noticing a sluggish changing of the guard, identifying the weak spot in a perimeter, finding an unmanned entrance, pacing out your attack formation. These things become force multipliers, and Daisuke had an innate ability to see and utilize them.

Their success lead to their assignment as a part of a larger offensive against Warlord Toz. The first objective was securing a fortified port with a sizeable garrison of troops. This location was an essential logistical hub enabling the function of a dozen other offensives. It had to fall, and Daisuke had a moment of enlightenment while going over the topographical maps.

The proposed landing area was the only beachhead large enough to quickly deploy the Fire Nation force, they would take losses, but cover was available in the form of numerous rock outcroppings. Beyond that beachhead was a valley that lead directly to the port on the far side of the island. The fighting would be intense, and the confined areas and occupied high ground would be hellish for the government attackers.

But Daisukes comrades were well trained and well disciplined, whereas Toz’s militia were little more than mercenaries, and had been known to break when faced with a determined and organized foe. A weak leadership structure makes a weak army. As Daisuke began playing out the future battle, he saw the fort empty out as Caldera’s finest entered the valley. The enemy’s leaders would know their largest, and only, advantage was in sheer numbers. Because of this the fort would be mostly empty, and there was a narrower approach from the left. It had been rejected by their commander due to the smaller beachhead and cliff face pathway, but a small force could land their under cover of night, and perhaps, with surprise and a healthy dosage of luck, overwhelm a skeleton defense force at the port.

Daisuke petitioned the commander to allow his squad to take a dingy and land to the west. The risk was small, and the potential rewards were massive, the commander allowed it. And Daisuke’s plan was set into motion, at down on the second day, they would assault the western fortifications.

The plan came together, and Daisuke took the fort while Ichiki raised the Fire Nations flag. The enemy, believing they had been surrounded, surrendered en masse. And Daisuke began his ascent, showing his value time and again before reaching Captain at age 26.

Shortly before our story is set to begin, Daisuke and his relatively new command were sent out to the black hills to destroy an enemy compound. Their position was surrounded by fortified walls and a small garrison. Though with their defenses intact the small force could hold off ten times their size. But they had a small issue, the fortress was built on a hill, and over the years the southern side of the hill had begun to wear away and settle. Engineers had added support pillars, but the weak point was still there.

Daisuke put together a plan to send two fainting attacks from the north and west, while he personally led a strike force, armed with explosives, to collapse the support columns. The General expressed hesitancy, the fortress received reinforcements a fortnight ago, the safer plan would be to wait them out, and let their increased number burn through their supplies. Daisuke however argued that this would delay the overall offensive, and this was, after all, his command. The general deferred to the leaders on the ground and sent a messenger to Daisuke advising that he act in whatever way he saw fit but reminding him that discretion was the better part of valor.

Daisuke, in his arrogance, remarked that they could bring in ten thousand troops, it would not make the wall impregnable. He ordered the assault, two forces moved in, feinting towards the walls with siege ladders. Fire roared forth from both the tops of the walls and the assaulting troops. Smoke filled the air, and while the forts attention was directed elsewhere Daisuke attacked.

He massively underestimated the additional strength the fort now had, and he lost dozens just reaching the wall. The explosives detonated and he bounded over the settling rubble. The enemy was thrown into chaos, and the feigning troops wheeled and renewed their assault with vigor. Their advantage was now only the surprise, as the casualties sustained had brought their numbers much closer together. Daisuke whirled, his blades danced and fire whirled around him. They won the day, but at what cost? Ichiki was found dead, and Daisuke knew that he alone was responsible for his death.

Now Daisuke and his decimated company have been sent back to the Capital to refit, and he is given a hero’s welcome, but this glory has turned to ashes in his mouth.

Supporting Cast: Aside from his grandfather I generally like to discover my character throughout the process of writing them. There will not be groundbreaking characters “Oh he’s secretly the Emperor’s son!” though he does have a company of men under his command, and the nature of their relationships aren’t clear yet.

Deeper Dive Backstory

Daisuke’s vision swam as the second blow landed and his body turned dispelling some of the force like his grandfather had taught him. The first strike had been worse, he hadn’t expected it, and the drill instructor enjoyed beating discipline into his fresh recruits. The other boys had cautiously and almost imperceptibly stepped back from him.

“When I want an answer, I’ll ask” Masahiro, the seasoned sergeant, yelled, spittle spraying across Daisuke’s cheek. But he did not flinch, he showed no fear even though his bowels were turning to water. Doubtless the young man was recalling Aikido’s final words of advice

“Every moment, every interaction is a test. Show them no weakness my boy, remember who you are.”

The Sergeant stepped to the right, giving a sideways glance which held his usual disdain and a touch of appraisal. “We do not fight for riches; we do not fight for fame. If you believe that then you had best leave now, you are no conscripts, and I welcome any of you weak willed shits to walk away and save me the trouble of beating you out over the next few months.” His withering glare passed slowly, noting every boy that met his eyes and those that did not. “The Nation you help to build is greater and more important then any one of you. Accept that.”

Daisuke’s chest puffed up, and he looked very much like a man who has found the place he fits perfectly. And though the training was rough, and violent, he excelled.

3 years later - Graduation
“Squad Leaders!” Masahiro, flanked by two higher ranking officers, who at this point Daisuke had never seen, though one of the officer’s insignia denoted that he was a General. The recruits were, for the first time, allowed to wear the uniform of the Fire Nation. Daisuke was given permission to wear his grandfather’s swords rather than the standard issue steel. They were all sitting in rows, forming a long rectangular formation. On the sides of their formation were shirtless firebenders, all of whom had graduated the year prior. “When your name is called stand!” Masahiro reached inside his red tunic and pulled forth a scroll, clearing his throat:

“Asaka Yasuhiko” A young man three rows and to the right stood, and the firebenders on each side moved in unison. Their left feet stepped forward and planted as their right hand formed a fist while it drove upward and released a powerful blast. Daisuke inched forward in his seat, he had been at the top of his class, first in nearly every area. His firebending was remarked upon by every instruct-

“Fushimi Hiroyasu” Again, a man stood, and received the fire salute from his new brothers. Daisuke’s hands gripped the seam of his trousers above the knee, his jaw rippled where his teeth were clenched.

“Takeda Tsuneyoshi” The roar of flames filled the open air again. Masahiro had always been hard on Daisuke, though it would be beyond belief if he allowed that to compromise his judgement. Sweat was forming on Daisuke’s brow. To do what he needed to do he must lead.

“Daisuke Sato”

18 months later – Southern Isle Raiding
Fire raged through the air in the distance, and Daisuke ran towards it with his squad. The fight was not going well. Government forces had moved to take an operating base from Warlord Toz. Nation forces had taken the beach under a storm of heat and flame, and they secured a rock outcropping from which to begin orchestrating a deeper strike inland. Slowly they gained ground, but they paid for it in blood. The warlord’s forces were savage, and skilled both in hand to hand combat and bending.

The base loomed before him, little more than a shipping outpost surrounded by hastily constructed barricades.

Daisuke sprinted ahead of his squad and leapt into the air, spinning and bringing his heel around in an arc. A scythe of flame whipped out and tore through the crates and sharpened pikes. Smoke billowed and Daisuke heard the scream of a burning man. They hadn’t been expecting an attack on the western side, which is what Daisuke had been counting on when he petitioned the commander to land 2 miles west around the horn of the island.

The main force was set to attack that morning at dawn, and the larger, though less disciplined militia, would hopefully meet them with force hoping to drive them into the sea and leaving only a skeleton force at the port.
He and his men took the ramshackle fortress rather easily, they dispatched with the few men left behind. Aikido’s blade tasted blood again, and Daisuke raised the Fire Nations flag while his men sounded their signal horns. The warlords troop naturally believed they were now hopelessly surrounded and surrendered, dropping their weapons in the dirt.

It was a good day.

8 years later – Defeat at the Black Cliffs

Daisuke’s hand began to shake, he reached toward his tunic before pulling back with a small jerk. The flask inside called to him, perhaps now more than ever. Oh how simple his path had seen after his first victory so many years ago. He clenched his fist harder to stop the shaking.

At his feet laid the body of Ichiki Kitokuro, face twisted upward in a haunting snarl chest crushed and burned. Ichiki had been with him since the very beginning, he was in Daisuke’s squad when they graduated, and he had followed him ever since. Daisuke had reached captain, and Ichiki a lieutenant in his company.

He knelt down, ignoring the sword cut in his side which had soaked his red robes to a deep crimson. Daisuke closed his eyes, “Thank you, old friend, please forgive me…” Time and again they had defeated the enemy, outmaneuvering, out thinking, finding the tiniest weaknesses, but not today.

Today Daisuke sacrificed 25 men because he knew better, he always knew better.

The General said the defenses were too strong.

Daisuke knew better.

Reconnaissance said that the enemy’s garrison had received reinforcements in the middle of the night, their assault would be impossible.

“Their right wall was still weak, ten thousand troops would make no difference” Daisuke said, because he knew better.

The sounds of fighting began to die down, the Fire Nations flag flew high, he had been right ironically. The wall did collapse under fire from his troops, but he lost half his force just reaching the wall. Daisuke went with them and was the first through the gap, and even in the fog of war he felt that everything was wrong. There were too few men by his side, the enemy believed they had a chance and pressed in. His katana cut a swath, his bursts of flame in defense as much as offense. Catching enemy counter thrusts and dispersing them.

They were calling this a victory, but the cost was too high, his company was decimated and would have to return to the capital to be re-equipped and re-manned.

Daisuke yanked out the flask now, pulling hard from it, tears running down his cheeks. He screamed to the heavens, a bout of flame ascending into the sky.

Avatar - The Fall of Si Wong City

Daisuke Sato

_{’They look at us and see disparate islands, and so they do not fear us. I see a singular people, that, if united, could make the world quake’}

---

Character Age: 28

Character Gender: Male

Character Race: Fire Nation

Bending: Fire Bender, skilled but not a master.

Skills: Daisuke is a leader of men, a visionary, and he has never struggled to bring people to his chosen cause. He has been described by his superiors as a brilliant tactician and strategist, accomplishing missions with minimal casualties while exceeding operational expectations. He is a trained killer, and he excels at leading others of the same breed.

Weaknesses: Like any man who finds success at a young age, his arrogance is untempered by age, and it shows. Oftentimes Daisuke has hindered his advancement due to an inability to come under leadership he doesn’t respect. Most recently said arrogance lead him into rash action in the field, and while his company accomplished their mission there were significant casualties.

Beyond his personality Daisuke self-medicates his extreme stress with alcohol, while, in the past, he could play it off as enjoying a drink after a hard day, he now always keeps liquor on his person. Slowly but surely, he is losing control of this vice.

His bending lacks the finesse necessary to take the next step into a near-mastery level. A lifetime of training focused on efficiency and explosiveness works well on the battlefield but has not lent itself to fine technique.

Possessions: Daisuke owns little outside of his ideals, his only prized possessions are his katana and tanto, both received from his grandfather.

Biography: Daisuke was just a boy when his parents were killed by raiding parties in the Eastern Fire Islands. They were not warriors, neither of them could even bend, yet they were cut down all the same. Daisuke had been spirited away by his father and hidden in the brush while the village was sacked. The child was wracked with silent sobs as he heard the screams and panic carry throughout the small fishing community.

He had emerged to find his world altered beyond all understanding, the few survivors sought refuge at Shu Jing, carting along a near catatonic Daisuke. Through no effort of his own, he was deposited with his Grandfather, Aikido Tanaka, a man faced with the loss of a daughter and the responsibility of a child at the same time. Their shared grief brought them closer, and Aikido loved Daisuke as he would have his own son. Aikido was an old man, but his bending had not deteriorated, and the skills he had honed fighting under various warlords were passed on to a hungry Daisuke.

Daisuke, was shaped by that event. As he grew, he heard of the new push for Unity in Caldera City. Would any raider dare to enter a united Fire Nation? Separated, why should any enemy fear nibbling at the edges, killing and raiding away from the cities? Daisuke had found his purpose, and Aikido responded as a man who had a premonition of this event. Daisuke had always shown far more promise than he had, and a vengeful spirit had been growing in Daisuke’s chest for many years.

At merely 16 years, Daisuke left his grandfather’s house, and armed with their family steel he set out for Caldera City to join the new Fire Nation, and he knew in his heart, that he would bring unity to his people or die in the attempt.

Sadly, things were not so easy or so simple. He arrived in Caldera and found out what most children do upon entering the wider world, things are far more complicated and rarely black and white. He enlisted in the Fire Nations military, a grueling academy where he spent three years in training and low-level service environments.

At every level he exceeded expectations. From bending to close combat, and strategic planning to logistics. He was not always the most naturally gifted, but he had the drive necessary to out work his peers. He had learned at a young age with his grandfather, that without hard work talent means nothing.

When he graduated the academy he was honored by being appointed a squad leader, and three men were placed under his command. One of which became a dear friend, Ichiki Kitokuro, Together they began embarking on small missions in the southern isles. Daisukes young squad began to get some attention as they racked up completed objectives one after another. So often in battle, it is the tiniest thing which guarantees victory: Noticing a sluggish changing of the guard, identifying the weak spot in a perimeter, finding an unmanned entrance, pacing out your attack formation. These things become force multipliers, and Daisuke had an innate ability to see and utilize them.

Their success lead to their assignment as a part of a larger offensive against Warlord Toz. The first objective was securing a fortified port with a sizeable garrison of troops. This location was an essential logistical hub enabling the function of a dozen other offensives. It had to fall, and Daisuke had a moment of enlightenment while going over the topographical maps.

The proposed landing area was the only beachhead large enough to quickly deploy the Fire Nation force, they would take losses, but cover was available in the form of numerous rock outcroppings. Beyond that beachhead was a valley that lead directly to the port on the far side of the island. The fighting would be intense, and the confined areas and occupied high ground would be hellish for the government attackers.

But Daisukes comrades were well trained and well disciplined, whereas Toz’s militia were little more than mercenaries, and had been known to break when faced with a determined and organized foe. A weak leadership structure makes a weak army. As Daisuke began playing out the future battle, he saw the fort empty out as Caldera’s finest entered the valley. The enemy’s leaders would know their largest, and only, advantage was in sheer numbers. Because of this the fort would be mostly empty, and there was a narrower approach from the left. It had been rejected by their commander due to the smaller beachhead and cliff face pathway, but a small force could land their under cover of night, and perhaps, with surprise and a healthy dosage of luck, overwhelm a skeleton defense force at the port.

Daisuke petitioned the commander to allow his squad to take a dingy and land to the west. The risk was small, and the potential rewards were massive, the commander allowed it. And Daisuke’s plan was set into motion, at down on the second day, they would assault the western fortifications.

The plan came together, and Daisuke took the fort while Ichiki raised the Fire Nations flag. The enemy, believing they had been surrounded, surrendered en masse. And Daisuke began his ascent, showing his value time and again before reaching Captain at age 26.

Shortly before our story is set to begin, Daisuke and his relatively new command were sent out to the black hills to destroy an enemy compound. Their position was surrounded by fortified walls and a small garrison. Though with their defenses intact the small force could hold off ten times their size. But they had a small issue, the fortress was built on a hill, and over the years the southern side of the hill had begun to wear away and settle. Engineers had added support pillars, but the weak point was still there.

Daisuke put together a plan to send two fainting attacks from the north and west, while he personally led a strike force, armed with explosives, to collapse the support columns. The General expressed hesitancy, the fortress received reinforcements a fortnight ago, the safer plan would be to wait them out, and let their increased number burn through their supplies. Daisuke however argued that this would delay the overall offensive, and this was, after all, his command. The general deferred to the leaders on the ground and sent a messenger to Daisuke advising that he act in whatever way he saw fit but reminding him that discretion was the better part of valor.

Daisuke, in his arrogance, remarked that they could bring in ten thousand troops, it would not make the wall impregnable. He ordered the assault, two forces moved in, feinting towards the walls with siege ladders. Fire roared forth from both the tops of the walls and the assaulting troops. Smoke filled the air, and while the forts attention was directed elsewhere Daisuke attacked.

He massively underestimated the additional strength the fort now had, and he lost dozens just reaching the wall. The explosives detonated and he bounded over the settling rubble. The enemy was thrown into chaos, and the feigning troops wheeled and renewed their assault with vigor. Their advantage was now only the surprise, as the casualties sustained had brought their numbers much closer together. Daisuke whirled, his blades danced and fire whirled around him. They won the day, but at what cost? Ichiki was found dead, and Daisuke knew that he alone was responsible for his death.

Now Daisuke and his decimated company have been sent back to the Capital to refit, and he is given a hero’s welcome, but this glory has turned to ashes in his mouth.

Supporting Cast: Aside from his grandfather I generally like to discover my character throughout the process of writing them. There will not be groundbreaking characters “Oh he’s secretly the Emperor’s son!” though he does have a company of men under his command, and the nature of their relationships aren’t clear yet.

Deeper Dive Backstory

Daisuke’s vision swam as the second blow landed and his body turned dispelling some of the force like his grandfather had taught him. The first strike had been worse, he hadn’t expected it, and the drill instructor enjoyed beating discipline into his fresh recruits. The other boys had cautiously and almost imperceptibly stepped back from him.

“When I want an answer, I’ll ask” Masahiro, the seasoned sergeant, yelled, spittle spraying across Daisuke’s cheek. But he did not flinch, he showed no fear even though his bowels were turning to water. Doubtless the young man was recalling Aikido’s final words of advice

“Every moment, every interaction is a test. Show them no weakness my boy, remember who you are.”

The Sergeant stepped to the right, giving a sideways glance which held his usual disdain and a touch of appraisal. “We do not fight for riches; we do not fight for fame. If you believe that then you had best leave now, you are no conscripts, and I welcome any of you weak willed shits to walk away and save me the trouble of beating you out over the next few months.” His withering glare passed slowly, noting every boy that met his eyes and those that did not. “The Nation you help to build is greater and more important then any one of you. Accept that.”

Daisuke’s chest puffed up, and he looked very much like a man who has found the place he fits perfectly. And though the training was rough, and violent, he excelled.

3 years later - Graduation
“Squad Leaders!” Masahiro, flanked by two higher ranking officers, who at this point Daisuke had never seen, though one of the officer’s insignia denoted that he was a General. The recruits were, for the first time, allowed to wear the uniform of the Fire Nation. Daisuke was given permission to wear his grandfather’s swords rather than the standard issue steel. They were all sitting in rows, forming a long rectangular formation. On the sides of their formation were shirtless firebenders, all of whom had graduated the year prior. “When your name is called stand!” Masahiro reached inside his red tunic and pulled forth a scroll, clearing his throat:

“Asaka Yasuhiko” A young man three rows and to the right stood, and the firebenders on each side moved in unison. Their left feet stepped forward and planted as their right hand formed a fist while it drove upward and released a powerful blast. Daisuke inched forward in his seat, he had been at the top of his class, first in nearly every area. His firebending was remarked upon by every instruct-

“Fushimi Hiroyasu” Again, a man stood, and received the fire salute from his new brothers. Daisuke’s hands gripped the seam of his trousers above the knee, his jaw rippled where his teeth were clenched.

“Takeda Tsuneyoshi” The roar of flames filled the open air again. Masahiro had always been hard on Daisuke, though it would be beyond belief if he allowed that to compromise his judgement. Sweat was forming on Daisuke’s brow. To do what he needed to do he must lead.

“Daisuke Sato”

18 months later – Southern Isle Raiding
Fire raged through the air in the distance, and Daisuke ran towards it with his squad. The fight was not going well. Government forces had moved to take an operating base from Warlord Toz. Nation forces had taken the beach under a storm of heat and flame, and they secured a rock outcropping from which to begin orchestrating a deeper strike inland. Slowly they gained ground, but they paid for it in blood. The warlord’s forces were savage, and skilled both in hand to hand combat and bending.

The base loomed before him, little more than a shipping outpost surrounded by hastily constructed barricades.

Daisuke sprinted ahead of his squad and leapt into the air, spinning and bringing his heel around in an arc. A scythe of flame whipped out and tore through the crates and sharpened pikes. Smoke billowed and Daisuke heard the scream of a burning man. They hadn’t been expecting an attack on the western side, which is what Daisuke had been counting on when he petitioned the commander to land 2 miles west around the horn of the island.

The main force was set to attack that morning at dawn, and the larger, though less disciplined militia, would hopefully meet them with force hoping to drive them into the sea and leaving only a skeleton force at the port.
He and his men took the ramshackle fortress rather easily, they dispatched with the few men left behind. Aikido’s blade tasted blood again, and Daisuke raised the Fire Nations flag while his men sounded their signal horns. The warlords troop naturally believed they were now hopelessly surrounded and surrendered, dropping their weapons in the dirt.

It was a good day.

8 years later – Defeat at the Black Cliffs

Daisuke’s hand began to shake, he reached toward his tunic before pulling back with a small jerk. The flask inside called to him, perhaps now more than ever. Oh how simple his path had seen after his first victory so many years ago. He clenched his fist harder to stop the shaking.

At his feet laid the body of Ichiki Kitokuro, face twisted upward in a haunting snarl chest crushed and burned. Ichiki had been with him since the very beginning, he was in Daisuke’s squad when they graduated, and he had followed him ever since. Daisuke had reached captain, and Ichiki a lieutenant in his company.

He knelt down, ignoring the sword cut in his side which had soaked his red robes to a deep crimson. Daisuke closed his eyes, “Thank you, old friend, please forgive me…” Time and again they had defeated the enemy, outmaneuvering, out thinking, finding the tiniest weaknesses, but not today.

Today Daisuke sacrificed 25 men because he knew better, he always knew better.

The General said the defenses were too strong.

Daisuke knew better.

Reconnaissance said that the enemy’s garrison had received reinforcements in the middle of the night, their assault would be impossible.

“Their right wall was still weak, ten thousand troops would make no difference” Daisuke said, because he knew better.

The sounds of fighting began to die down, the Fire Nations flag flew high, he had been right ironically. The wall did collapse under fire from his troops, but he lost half his force just reaching the wall. Daisuke went with them and was the first through the gap, and even in the fog of war he felt that everything was wrong. There were too few men by his side, the enemy believed they had a chance and pressed in. His katana cut a swath, his bursts of flame in defense as much as offense. Catching enemy counter thrusts and dispersing them.

They were calling this a victory, but the cost was too high, his company was decimated and would have to return to the capital to be re-equipped and re-manned.

Daisuke yanked out the flask now, pulling hard from it, tears running down his cheeks. He screamed to the heavens, a bout of flame ascending into the sky.

Evening Ladies and Gents,

@HydeI am game for pretty much any setting, but fantasy is definitely my favorite.

Avatar - The Fall of Si Wong City

I would be very interested.

Evening Ladies and Gents,

Haven't done any RPing since high school really, and I'm excited to dive back in.

I enjoy writing on the side, and I always found that a good role play helped me push out of my comfort zone and break any writers block that had snuck up on me.

Hope to bounce into you all around the board, happy hunting!