[x] Listen in.
You stop at the sound of those words, but even more so you stop at the way those words are being told. The man is speaking in a resounding, dramatic way that seems to push its way through the air and into your mind. This is not someone simply recounting something they overhead.
No, this man is telling a story. This is history he's talking about, deeds of heroes immortalized in great tales to be told again and again as the ages pass. And that voice… That voice practically draws you in with his words.
"Let's step inside," you say to Shirou, who is also listening with interest.
The sake house is packed with people, mostly Samurai along with a few merchants. Serving men and women walk about, taking orders for drinks and even providing some small snacks when requested. You and Shirou manage to find an empty table in the back, though you have to push around quite a few people to reach it. You don't have the best view from where you settle down, but it's good enough to see what everyone is focusing on.
There, on a raised stand set into the side of the sake house, is a young man in fine robes dyed white with a golden trim. His long black hair is tied in a topknot, and though his face is rather plain you take little notice, focusing on his voice resounds as he continues his story. He brings his arms together, as if trying to shield his body from something terrible.
"The villain Daigotsu wished to drink the blood of the fallen Yajinden, to absorb from the traitor smith the power of the Shadow Dragon Yajinden had taken into his body! With such might at his disposal, would anyone be able to strike back against the foul blood speaker? Could any hold against the power of such vileness as Daigotsu worked his wickedness upon all that is pure beneath the light of Heaven?"
He steps forward, one arm raised, and clenches a fist.
"Such were the thoughts of Kakita Zhuge-sama, the Emerald Champion! With a cry of fury the honorable Crane struck at the foe, his sword carving two great gashes in the traitor's corrupted flesh. But the dark lord only laughed, and with a wave of his hand flung Kakita Zhuge-sama aside! His comrades could only watch in horror as Daigotsu bent down to take his prize."
You know this story. It is the tale of the Heroes of Otosan-Uchi defeating Daigotsu twenty years ago, back when the Crab destroyed the City of Bone. But the way it's being told… This man's words are more than just words. They are like a force of nature, the will of the storyteller pushing its way into your mind. They fill your imagination, drawing you from the sake house and somewhere else entirely.
You can almost see the battle in your thoughts, smell the blood that coated the room. With every verse spoken, with every motion of the storyteller's body, you are drawn further and further in to the tale. You lean forward, observing more closely.
Could this be what you've been missing in your training? Could this be what storytelling is all about? Not just the recounting of days gone by, but to pull the audience in as if they were looking upon those events themselves? Looking upon a proper master at work, it seems so obvious now. You cannot just tell the story. You have to make people feel like they are living it.
"But not all was lost!" the man continues. "For Asako Akio-sama, the Elemental Master of Fire, did rush forward to push back against the hated enemy! He pulled from his face his sacred mask, the gift of his sister to all the heroes of Otosan-Uchi, and slammed it upon the dark lord's face!" The storyteller threw his arms wide. "The purity of the construct lit Daigotsu like a bonfire! With screams of agony did the traitor's flesh melt from his bones, and when the fires stopped half his body was blackened to charred ash!"
The storyteller cuts off as a chair is thrown to the floor. A big man, a few inches taller than you for all that he seems a year younger, is scowling at the man on stage. He's dressed in light armor set with the Matsu Family mon, and he has his daisho at his belt. The man's face is red like the setting sun, and it's obvious he is quite drunk.
He's also very well muscled. Though you and he are close in height, the Matsu is quite obviously your superior in bulk. He's almost as well built as Shirou, honestly, if more stretched out thanks to his greater height. The man takes one, muscled hand and levels it at the storyteller as he glares.
"I know this tale!" the Matsu shouts. "Penned by that traitor to the Clan, Takano Roukan!" He sneers. "I didn't think the Ikoma would be telling stories written by a man who abandoned the Lion to found his own Clan! Well, I'll not hear any more of this filth!"
The Matsu waves a hand to punctuate his point, and knocks over a tray held by a serving man. The drinks on the tray fly into the air, several landing on the Samurai. The big Lion's face goes even redder, this time in utter fury, and he backhands the servant with one meaty fist. The peasant cries out and falls to the ground, the side of his face swelling up horribly.
"You dare, peasant!" the Matsu roars, his voice booming harshly within the confined space of the sake house. "You dare sully my clothes with your incompetence! I will have your blood for this!"
The Matsu draws his katana, and it is obvious what is going to happen. In his drunken rage the Lion Samurai is going to slaughter that man, or at the very least cripple him. The peasant cowers and tries to back away, but the Matsu walks forward and gives the hapless victim no room to escape.
In but a moment, the strike will land.
[] Interfere.
[] Watch on.
[] Write in.
