Toraberā Tanaka
Shingetsu Trading Company
Muramasa
Muramasa
Dishonor is removed through death
Yeehaw Senpai!
Discord Handle:
Smike#0273
- IC Information
- Forum Stats
Sex:
Male
Male
Species:
Grey Wolf
Grey Wolf
Date of Birth:
11th January 2015
11th January 2015
Appearance:
Being a purebred Grey Wolf, Tora looks very similiar to any other member of his species. His stomach, legs and arms are all white and his back, neck and head have a dusting of dark grey fur. His mane is thick and reaches the bottom of his neck when it's not in a topknot, which is rare. The one eye he has left is a peculiar shade of bluish-purple. In his preferred Optime form he stands about 6'3'' tall and weighs 174 pounds.
Having grown up in a pack that was in a constant state of skirmish, Tora's weapons are always either on his person or within arm's reach. His Daishi (literally "big-little") consists of a katana with a blade length of 28 inches and wakizashi 16 inches long, both contained in black lacquered wood scabbards with black and green cloth providing grip on the handles. His short hunting bow is carried with a quiver of arrows.
Tora takes pride in his clothing and jewelry because it all has a story. His buffalo hide robe and tan cowboy hat were gifts from a pack of coyotes he befriended trekking across the Great Plains, as were the bright red gloves. The blue and green plaid bandanna around his neck was given to him by the captain of the ship that brought him to North America, along with a simple leather satchel. More painful memories of his destroyed pack are kept fresh in his mind by the brand of a crossed dagger and arrow seared into his back. A simple bamboo ring with the same mark hangs at his chest from hemp string. 50 small tally marks are permanently scarred into his left arm as a further reminder of his loss.
His most painful and most most treasured possession is the bamboo armor he carries in a separate bag, each piece individually wrapped in cloth. Tora's father had been wearing it when he was murdered. It's not much, just simple lacquered wood covering, but it stops claws, teeth, and arrows well enough. Tora rarely wears it. He is rarely afforded the pleasure of knowing a fight is coming.
Being a purebred Grey Wolf, Tora looks very similiar to any other member of his species. His stomach, legs and arms are all white and his back, neck and head have a dusting of dark grey fur. His mane is thick and reaches the bottom of his neck when it's not in a topknot, which is rare. The one eye he has left is a peculiar shade of bluish-purple. In his preferred Optime form he stands about 6'3'' tall and weighs 174 pounds.
Having grown up in a pack that was in a constant state of skirmish, Tora's weapons are always either on his person or within arm's reach. His Daishi (literally "big-little") consists of a katana with a blade length of 28 inches and wakizashi 16 inches long, both contained in black lacquered wood scabbards with black and green cloth providing grip on the handles. His short hunting bow is carried with a quiver of arrows.
Tora takes pride in his clothing and jewelry because it all has a story. His buffalo hide robe and tan cowboy hat were gifts from a pack of coyotes he befriended trekking across the Great Plains, as were the bright red gloves. The blue and green plaid bandanna around his neck was given to him by the captain of the ship that brought him to North America, along with a simple leather satchel. More painful memories of his destroyed pack are kept fresh in his mind by the brand of a crossed dagger and arrow seared into his back. A simple bamboo ring with the same mark hangs at his chest from hemp string. 50 small tally marks are permanently scarred into his left arm as a further reminder of his loss.
His most painful and most most treasured possession is the bamboo armor he carries in a separate bag, each piece individually wrapped in cloth. Tora's father had been wearing it when he was murdered. It's not much, just simple lacquered wood covering, but it stops claws, teeth, and arrows well enough. Tora rarely wears it. He is rarely afforded the pleasure of knowing a fight is coming.
Personality:
Torabera is quite friendly, warming up to people quickly. He loves to chat about anything and everything when he's not busy because it helps him practice English. He's overprotective of friends and loved ones and often takes more than his fair share of the workload.
That said, he takes slights very personally. Good natured jabs roll off of his back and he actively seeks critique so he can improve himself, but if those jabs turn into cruel barbs or helpful comments become useless insults then he starts keeping track. The perpetrator gets three warnings, each increasing in intensity. After that, Tora will "invite" them to a duel. For minor offences he'll keep the scabbard on and simply beat you with it. Grievous offences will be met with his blade.
The only people who get a pass are pups and those ranked above him. But Tora holds grudges. As soon as his superior becomes his equal they'll be confronted by a very angry wolf with a very sharp sword. Pups who slighted him while they're just under adult age will meet the same fate as soon as it's their birthday.
Death doesn't scare Tora. Witnessing the slaughter of his entire extended family only strengthened his resolve. Everyday he follows the old mantra:
"Meditation on inevitable death should be performed daily. Every day when one's body and mind are at peace, one should meditate upon being ripped apart by arrows, rifles, spears and swords, being carried away by surging waves, being thrown into the midst of a great fire, being struck by lightning, being shaken to death by a great earthquake, falling from thousand-foot cliffs, dying of disease or committing seppuku at the death of one's master. And every day without fail one should consider himself as dead."
Despite his rather dark outlook, Tora still follows a code of honor, albeit not the one he was raised with. His old code could've filled a book if it was written down. It dictated how one should act when hunting, dueling, during times of conflict, and just about anything one could imagine. Finding the old code impractical in his new life, Tora created a new one that could be summarized in five sentences: 1.Don't fight unless given reason. 2.Protect those who need protection. 3. Don't hurt pups, the elderly, pregnant, wounded or sick. 4. If forced to fight one of the above categories, always attempt to end the fight non lethally. 5. Avenge your fallen clan.
While he rarely talks about them, Tora's hobbies include wood carving, carpentry, and collecting various plants and herbs. He learned woodworking as a pup back in Japan. He picked up herbalism on his trek across North America, compiling information on the various plants he encountered in a rough journal.
Torabera is quite friendly, warming up to people quickly. He loves to chat about anything and everything when he's not busy because it helps him practice English. He's overprotective of friends and loved ones and often takes more than his fair share of the workload.
That said, he takes slights very personally. Good natured jabs roll off of his back and he actively seeks critique so he can improve himself, but if those jabs turn into cruel barbs or helpful comments become useless insults then he starts keeping track. The perpetrator gets three warnings, each increasing in intensity. After that, Tora will "invite" them to a duel. For minor offences he'll keep the scabbard on and simply beat you with it. Grievous offences will be met with his blade.
The only people who get a pass are pups and those ranked above him. But Tora holds grudges. As soon as his superior becomes his equal they'll be confronted by a very angry wolf with a very sharp sword. Pups who slighted him while they're just under adult age will meet the same fate as soon as it's their birthday.
Death doesn't scare Tora. Witnessing the slaughter of his entire extended family only strengthened his resolve. Everyday he follows the old mantra:
"Meditation on inevitable death should be performed daily. Every day when one's body and mind are at peace, one should meditate upon being ripped apart by arrows, rifles, spears and swords, being carried away by surging waves, being thrown into the midst of a great fire, being struck by lightning, being shaken to death by a great earthquake, falling from thousand-foot cliffs, dying of disease or committing seppuku at the death of one's master. And every day without fail one should consider himself as dead."
Despite his rather dark outlook, Tora still follows a code of honor, albeit not the one he was raised with. His old code could've filled a book if it was written down. It dictated how one should act when hunting, dueling, during times of conflict, and just about anything one could imagine. Finding the old code impractical in his new life, Tora created a new one that could be summarized in five sentences: 1.Don't fight unless given reason. 2.Protect those who need protection. 3. Don't hurt pups, the elderly, pregnant, wounded or sick. 4. If forced to fight one of the above categories, always attempt to end the fight non lethally. 5. Avenge your fallen clan.
While he rarely talks about them, Tora's hobbies include wood carving, carpentry, and collecting various plants and herbs. He learned woodworking as a pup back in Japan. He picked up herbalism on his trek across North America, compiling information on the various plants he encountered in a rough journal.
Relations:
Akio Tanaka (Father) Ami Tanaka (Mother)
Runner (Raccoon companion. Speaks fluent Low Speech and broken High Speech.)
Akio Tanaka (Father) Ami Tanaka (Mother)
Runner (Raccoon companion. Speaks fluent Low Speech and broken High Speech.)
History:
Near the ruins of Tokyo, Japan, the pack known as Clan Tanaka had been embroiled in a bloody feud with a rival group for longer than anyone could remember. No was really sure what the feud had started over and there were dozens of theories. All anyone knew was that was that there was no way they certainly weren't going to be the ones to surrender.
Torabera Tanaka was born into this perpetual state of warfare and began to train to be a part of it as soon as he could walk. He loved every member of the pack, but he had a special reverence for his father. Everyday the young wolf would spend hours with his father, the younger copying the elder's every move as he was taught swordmanship and archery. Soon he began fighting member of the enemy pack, winning duels for his clan's honor.
The day his life was changed forever started normally: a challenge was sent to Clan Tanaka for a formal battle. Of course, the Tanakas eagerly accepted it. The two packs lined up for battle, all eager to shed the blood of their sworn enemies. Tora expected that there would be more kills added to his name.
What he didn't expect was the hail of arrows that erupted behind his pack, striking down almost half them instantly. The rival pack had broken the code of honor and enlisted the help of unscrupulous wolves to ambush the Tanakas. The battle turned into a rout as Tora and his pack were forced to flee, more of their number being cut down as they ran. As Tora ran he witnessed his mother die before his very eyes.
When the survivors reached their territory they found that they had walked straight into another ambush. This time the weakened pack was killed almost to the last man. The only survivors were Tora and his mortally injured father.
They managed to find passage on a ship preparing to make the incredibly dangerous journey to North America. Tora did everything he could to save his father, but it was no use. Infection had already set in and the now pack-less wolf buried his father on the third day out of harbor.
He spent the rest of the trip practicing, throwing himself into his training to take his mind off of all that he had lost. His nights were spent mediating on the nature of honor. He eventually decided that the old code of honor was useless when there were people that wouldn't follow it. As such, he created a new one.
After a little less than a year, the ship reached North America. Tora bid farewell to the captain and tied the bandanna he had been given around his neck before wandering off.
On his journey he encountered all kinds of strangers. Some were hostile, like the Luperci that met a swift end trying to rob the strange foreigner wandering the ancient roads. But most were friendly, suchas the coyotes who had gifted him his robe, hat and gloves or the raccoon who decided to tag along after Tora had shared his water during a nasty dry spell.
After nearly 60 days of walking, the wolf and his raccoon companion had reached Nova Scotia. As he crossed into this new land, he swore that he would make sure that no else would suffer as he did.
Near the ruins of Tokyo, Japan, the pack known as Clan Tanaka had been embroiled in a bloody feud with a rival group for longer than anyone could remember. No was really sure what the feud had started over and there were dozens of theories. All anyone knew was that was that there was no way they certainly weren't going to be the ones to surrender.
Torabera Tanaka was born into this perpetual state of warfare and began to train to be a part of it as soon as he could walk. He loved every member of the pack, but he had a special reverence for his father. Everyday the young wolf would spend hours with his father, the younger copying the elder's every move as he was taught swordmanship and archery. Soon he began fighting member of the enemy pack, winning duels for his clan's honor.
The day his life was changed forever started normally: a challenge was sent to Clan Tanaka for a formal battle. Of course, the Tanakas eagerly accepted it. The two packs lined up for battle, all eager to shed the blood of their sworn enemies. Tora expected that there would be more kills added to his name.
What he didn't expect was the hail of arrows that erupted behind his pack, striking down almost half them instantly. The rival pack had broken the code of honor and enlisted the help of unscrupulous wolves to ambush the Tanakas. The battle turned into a rout as Tora and his pack were forced to flee, more of their number being cut down as they ran. As Tora ran he witnessed his mother die before his very eyes.
When the survivors reached their territory they found that they had walked straight into another ambush. This time the weakened pack was killed almost to the last man. The only survivors were Tora and his mortally injured father.
They managed to find passage on a ship preparing to make the incredibly dangerous journey to North America. Tora did everything he could to save his father, but it was no use. Infection had already set in and the now pack-less wolf buried his father on the third day out of harbor.
He spent the rest of the trip practicing, throwing himself into his training to take his mind off of all that he had lost. His nights were spent mediating on the nature of honor. He eventually decided that the old code of honor was useless when there were people that wouldn't follow it. As such, he created a new one.
After a little less than a year, the ship reached North America. Tora bid farewell to the captain and tied the bandanna he had been given around his neck before wandering off.
On his journey he encountered all kinds of strangers. Some were hostile, like the Luperci that met a swift end trying to rob the strange foreigner wandering the ancient roads. But most were friendly, suchas the coyotes who had gifted him his robe, hat and gloves or the raccoon who decided to tag along after Tora had shared his water during a nasty dry spell.
After nearly 60 days of walking, the wolf and his raccoon companion had reached Nova Scotia. As he crossed into this new land, he swore that he would make sure that no else would suffer as he did.
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