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Silverbroidered Leander

"The blood of the every-man has long been soaking the hands of the powerful."

0 · 365 views · located in Japan- Sengoki era

a character in “Ways of the Samurai: Journey”, originally authored by MaxStokes, as played by RolePlayGateway


Silverbroidered Leander “Takara“


|”When one wears the mask, the mask also wears them.”|


Lanky, scruffy, and slightly roguish. Leander’s facial appearance is normally unkempt. He has messy brown hair down to the back of his neck in the back and mostly above his brow line in the front. He sports patchy perma-stubble on his chin, lip, and sideburns due to his inability to grow a full beard. His natural posture is slouchy, bending his head and neck slightly forward, though when he is character this goes away.

He currently dresses in the attire of the persona he as assumed, “Moonblade”. A swordsman….or a mercenary swordsman…..or was it a swordsman monk? Leander never really got all the specifics on the man who saved his life…then died. Regardless, he wears a large wicker hat with black, gray, and white robes.

Being alone - Only when he is alone does he feel save in being his true self.
Paintings - His father used to spend far too much on acquiring paintings, as such they remind him of the man.
Drinking - He drinks to forget, but in the end it helps him remember. He likes to remember.
Talking to others as himself - He hasn’t been able to talk to someone while being his true self. Hasn’t been able to connect with anyone since his family was slain. He misses it very much.

The Lord - The one who is responsible for the death of his family.
Being alone - He misses having someone he can connect to.
His on weakness - He knows it is foolish to blame himself for anything relating to the death of his family, but he does it anyways.
Authority - He believes rulers are by nature corrupt and undeserving of their power.
Acting - He use to love it, it use to be a ship on a voyage to a distant land of discovery and imagination. Now it is little more than a prison.


Having grown up with the Troupe, which was moderately wealthy, for most of his life Leander has had a better life than most commoners. Something he had somewhat taken for granted until recently. When at his best he is a laid back individual, keeping worrying about little and simply living in the moment. Though he is quite capable of most things he might try, as long as he focuses his mind on it. As his many nights spent with the theater with his family he always appreciates a good time and a lively atmosphere. He enjoys being social, epically interacting with those who can following the conversations he would have on lofty topics such as the meaning of life.

Unsurprisingly, given his background, he is quite the actor. The processes of assuming the role of someone else comes naturally to him as one might put on clothes. He can be a great hero, a dastardly villain, or even a comical jester. He use to revel in exchanging the masks back an forth so easily, but recently he has started to develop a bit of a hatred for it. The trauma of having to act like a simple onlooker while his family was slain in front of him is probably the chief reason for this.

He is generally a moral and generally tries to shun conflict, though is no stranger to intellectual debate. He is also however, quite cowardly when it comes to combat or physical violence. Mostly due to his overarching inexperience and therefore ineptitude with it. In summary, he would give a beggar food, but not save him from being beat up. Perhaps he could bluff off the aggressors or outsmart them, but in general he would avoid taking that chance.

Due to his current situation, he is unable to continue following his passion or even be his true self. He must stay in character as “Moonblade”, the stoic wandering swordsman. He is polite and proper towards others, though he carries himself with an air of strength that few would take lightly. He interacts little beyond pleasantries, and lets no one emotionally close to him. Not that he would stay in one place long enough to let that happen. He seems to be lost, not in his location, but in his purpose. Simply focused on surviving day to day.

Ju - For Leander, their relationship went beyond merely considering Ju to be his father. Ju was his father.

The Troupe - A group of actors that Ju led. Leander considered most of them to be his family.

The Lord - The one who is responsible for the death of everyone Leander ever loved. This man is tied to Warlord Yousuke as one of the many who rule under him. The man is after Leander‘s life and Leander would be after the man‘s life in a second if he believed himself capable of taking it.

Moonblade’s Swords - A traditional Katana and Wakizashi that were used by the wondering swordsman who saved Leander’s life. Leander now carriers them to complete his disguise.

The Dragon - A strange weapon that came into Ju’s possession during his oversea journeys. Leander has only seen it fired once, but it was one of the most powerful displays he has ever seen. Still, that power could do nothing to save his family. Leander now keeps it as both a precious memory and for self defense. He keeps it expertly hidden on his person beneath his clothes a virtually all times.

Acting/Deception - Leander can assume the guise of nearly anyone, even partially those of another gender, and lying is only the truth that someone else believes. The only thing stopping him from being able to completely fool someone else about his identity is his physical appearance. Which naturally must remain static. Beyond that, voice, posture, and attitude are easily in flux when he needs them to be.

Perception - The audience’s reaction can tell you a lot about what they desire. If they get what they want, they will come back again. Keeping an eye on twenty people at once can be challenging, reacting and changing the performance according to their reactions is very difficult indeed. Doing that multiple times a week for most of your life means that you can see more of what goes on around you than most.

Intelligence/Education The brain grows when it is challenged. Leander grew up around quite “challenging” people. He was also blessed with an early education by them.

Experimentalist/Unpredictability - Leander knows that the best way around an obstacle is from a different perspective, sitting squarely outside of the box.

Not a fighter - Leander knows not to hold the pointy end, that’s about it.

Price on his head - Wanted, dead, not alive.

Not who he says he is - Masquerading as a man he never really met.

Lifewish - Doesn’t want to die at all. Scared of death.

Leander was born in a port city to the south but never considered it home. His home died a few months at the hand of a powerful and wealthy lord.


The crying seagulls, the blaring sun, and the salty ocean breeze were the first things to welcome the young child into the world in place of his father. The three women stared down at the tiny dark-brown haired child as it looked back up at them wide eyed and calm. So strange to the three, they had never seen a child that refused to cry on the day of it’s birth. The mother was petrified as she saw the traits of the child’s Gaijin father. The oldest woman, employer to both the mother and other onlooker, quickly delegated the disposal of the child to the onlooker. Even she had trouble taking initiative on the grim task, epically in the face of the noon sun as it’s rays beat down upon the harbor. The mother simply laid there silently as the young woman wrapped up her child and carried it off. Though as the silent room emptied, tears began to stream down her face.

It was not difficult for the young woman to find a deserted back alley nearby. She simply could not go through with it, the horror of the thought scorched her mind. So she gave the responsibility to the harsh world and hid the child amongst crates and ropes. It such a common occurrence in the port, for unused items of the like to be left laying about. Once he was alone, the child simply stared wide eyed at the world, to young to be anything but intrigued.

The child sat quietly for a short time, then the creature came, drawn by the smell of what had brought him into the world. Large by most standards, yet small by those of the port, the rat scurried up. If it had been anymore ambitious, it might have gotten its meal, its meek ended up costing the creature an easy. The first nip quickly morphed the wide eyed silent child into a thrashing, shrieking, ball of pure will to survive. The creature, scared by the sudden juxtaposition, scurried off, abandoning the meal entirely.

This was when the raven haired man heard the cries. If he had been more of a prudent man, he might have continued on to his appointment, there was a play to prepare for. However, this man had never been known to be timely. He was drawn by curiosity as much as concern, he stayed almost entirely out of intrigue and surprise, then retrieved the child out of pure understanding. He, much more than most, understood how his homeland could treat those who reminded them of what laid beyond their shores.


The Raven haired man was named Ju, a traveler, one who had visited distant shores beyond his homeland. It had been quite a few years since he had returned to the country of his birth. So now, more than a traveler, most considered him an “actor”. He was also considered by most to be a “specialist” of sorts. Because while most of the rich and powerful of the time claimed to be only interested in native stories, the fascination with the unknown burns within even the most traditional.

When Ju found the boy, he could easily sympathize with the child’s situation. He had so many times seen foreign treasures thrown away like trash in the land of his birth, something that had been the driving force behind his original wish to travel the world. This was why Ju resolved to rescue the child and raise him as his own, and though the boy came to consider the troupe his family, he would always hold Ju as his father.

Leander Silverbroidered, Ju named the child. A name fit for the treasure the actor had found. Though many of the boy’s new family resolved to call him Takara.

Leander had quite the interesting childhood, traveling around with the performing troupe of actors. Along with Ju, many of the members were quite educated, so Leander received an education comparable with what many a ruler’s son might. He also picked quite liberal ideals from his family, who had little patience or respect for the stuffy attitudes of their homeland. Though, if Leander’s family could have taught him only one thing, with now doubt they would have taught him how to act. To shed your own skin and become someone else.

Leander loved his family deeply and even when he learned of his origins from Ju, it didn’t seem to bother him. The idea of having birth parents, a father that never knew him, a mother that had abandoned him. The thought seemed so far away. He had a father named Ju and a bigger family than most. So Leander spent most of his life happily, there may have been rough patches, but he never had a wish for anything different. That was, until his father and family died.

They all knew the risks. Even Leander, though he never thought something that awful might happen. Over the years Ju had started becoming more and more bold. It was an idea Ju had only barely heard of, even abroad this idea was dangerous. The idea that no man had any more right to rule over his peers than others. That the individual was defined by his actions, not by his lineage. The troupe had skirted around the idea over the years, thinking it some sort of fantasy. However, to Ju it was much more than a fantasy.

It had been some time since the troupe had taken up residence in Edo. There were many powerful people who frequented the area and as a result money tended to flow frequently into recreational services such as plays. However, the special one that Ju wrote, in the end it was just too much. The lord had even sent ahead to request a specific historic themed favorite. It was Ju’s pried over his recent creation that ended up being the downfall of him and virtually all of his troupe.

In short, the lord did not react well to the story of revolution. Leander was the only one to escape. It was easy for his family to make their decision, they had raised him, he was the youngest, and he was the only one to have not chosen the life they followed. In the end, Leander had to watch the execution himself. His soul rent in two as he had to feign surprise, acting like just another onlooker, unable to shed a tear as the only family he had ever known were slaughtered in front of his eyes.


Leander was on his way out of the Provence, he hated himself for it, but he wanted to complete his family’s wish. The wish that he live the rest of his life. However, the lord had learned of the escape and was furious. Using his power and wealth, the man hired a skilled assassin to take the life of the one who had escaped his wrath.

Leander sat out front of the shop near the side of the road, nearly broken to the point of tears due to the weight of everything that had happened. As he sat there, an imposing looking man showed up. He wore a wide wicker hat and sported two swords on his belt. At first Leander was slightly frightened, but then the man greeted him kindly and sat with him. Leander introduced himself, relieved that the man was not someone trying to kill him. The woman then brought out a platter of food. Leander, picked up a piece of the cooked beef, ready to scarf it down, but he stopped as he realized he was about eat while the swordsman just watched him.

He offered the meat in his had to the man. The man took it, thanking him as he took the first bite. However, a second after he swallowed the meat, the man seemed to stagger as though he had just been winded.

“This is-” The man started, but then coughed loudly. Leander’s eyes widened in horror at this, then he turned his head toward the woman, who frowned then pulled a large knife from beneath her clothes. The woman rushed at Leander and he put his arms up in front of him and closed his eyes, knowing that he was about to die.

However, instead of the pain of death, he heard the clang of metal clashing against metal. Opening his eyes, he saw the swordsman and the woman fighting. As the swiped at each other, he couldn’t even follow their movements, their swings blurred together with the occasional clash of metal. Then, the swordsman’s blade connected with the woman’s body, slicing her stomach open. She fell to her knees and he slashed her throat, finishing her off.

Turning, the swordsman faced Leander and staggered a few steps forward. Then he fell to the ground and lay still. Leander fell backwards onto his butt. Dumbfounded by what had just happened. They were still looking for him. They had found him. How could he escape when he was but a single actor up against a powerful and wealthy lord?

Then, after a few long moments of tears, he looked at the swordsman’s body that lay before him. A thought occurred to him. They knew who he was, but maybe he could be someone else. As the sun set on that day, Leander left the small shop burning. Walking away down the road not as himself, but as “Moonblade”. The wondering swordsman.


Barely a month has passed since then. Leander has been just scraping by, living off mostly charity. Though he has seemingly thrown off the pursuit of those who want him dead, he has no idea how to go about the rest of his life. So he simply continues to wear the mask of the man who saved his life.

So begins...

Silverbroidered Leander's Story

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Silverbroidered Leander “Takara“

“Ah, Moonblade-sama, there you are!” The owner of the bar called out to Leander. At the sound, Leander’s back straightened and his posture returned to complete his guise. In his mind he cursed, his bad luck. The fake swordsman had been trying to sneak out of the bar before the man awoke. “Are you hungry?” The barkeep asked Leander with a smile on his face. Leander simply tipped his wide-brimmed hat forward in response. The man laughed. “Allays the quiet one, even in the mornings I see.” Leander wished he could sigh as he moved over to sit down for breakfast.

“It would be much easier to eat if you didn’t always cover your mouth.” The man commented as he began preparing the mercenary some food, referring to the cloth that Leander had over his mouth. In response the fake swordsman tilted down his hat to hide most of his face. Then when he was sure he couldn’t be identified, he removed the cloth.

“I’m not much to look at.” Leander said to the man in a rough voice, mimicking the one he had heard from the true owner of the clothes he now wore. The barkeep simple chuckled at his comment. Even after only a few days, Leander had about had enough of that laugh.


The fake swordsman sat sitting outside the bar. He took to doing that when he didn’t have enough money to afford food. Which was most days. He had found that if he sat quietly outside places, people tended to take a little pity on wandering swordsmen. Not asking for charity seemed to be quite effective in receiving it.

This time however, Leander seemed to be scaring off a few customers. He didn’t mean to, he wasn’t portraying a brooding or dangerous man. Yet every once and a while, Leander would notice that someone would stop and retract their approach just as they drew close to the bar’s entrance. Eventually, Leander got up to leave. He hadn’t received any charity all day, so he figured his luck wasn’t going to change. Though as he began walking away he heard someone call out to him.

“Please! Don’t leave yet! I’m sorry for taking advantage of you!” A man called as he exited the bar. Leander turned around, confused at the statement. As far as he could tell, he hadn’t been taken advantage of yet. “There are still some inside. Please, I’ll pay you!” The man said, holding out some money. Before Leander could respond, he was being dragged inside. A few moments later Leander sat at the bar, still quite confused, though didn’t show it.

“There they are.” The barkeep pointed at three men who were sitting down at one of the tables. “They are the ones, please run them out. They cause so much trouble. I’m really sorry for taking advantage of you. I‘ll pay you for keeping out the troublemakers earlier.” The man begged quietly to Leander. Leander stared at the man for a moment, then looked over at the men. They seemed calm enough, not like ruffians at all. “Please, go.” The man said before Leander could make up his mind, then the barkeep pushed the fake swordsman towards the table.

The three looked up at Leander, confused. Two seemed a bit frightened when they saw Moonblade’s swords, but the third shook his head and grinned a bit. Leander sat down at the table, keeping a noble posture, but not saying anything. It seemed too late to back out now. The man who hadn’t been afraid was the first to speak.

“So, I guess he finally made good on his promise. I was wondering why the place was so empty today.” The man spoke to Leander, just softly enough so that only those sitting at the table could hear. “Well I guess we don’t have bring this fool business anyways.” The man commented, then stood up.

“Fine then you old bastard!” The man yelled at the barkeep. “It’s not our damn fault your daughter is so flirty.” The came a soft cry from the door to another room. Leander spotted a young woman peering from around the corner. “I tell you what though, I never thought you would make good on that threat. You really are stupider than I thought. Hiring a swordsman to scare of your own customers.” He turned to Leander as he finished. “Be careful then swordsman, this damn fool will run you off two. That is if he doesn’t run out of money to pay you with first!” The man yelled that last part for the barkeep to hear. Then stormed out of the bar, the two others close in toe.

“Very good! That was amazing! You ran them off without even speaking!” The barkeep praised Leander, walking over to him. Leander couldn’t help but raising an eyebrow, even his iron cast disguise had been cracked by this fool of a man. “Tell me swordsman, what is your name?” The barkeep asked.

“Moonblade.” Leander spoke in a rough voice, regaining his composure enough to keep up his disguise and remember the name of the man who had saved his life.


“Ah! Kana-chan this way!” The man who stood slightly in front of Leander exclaimed, waving down the woman who had entered the bar. Leander tilted up his wide brim hat for a moment and looked over the woman, who seemed rather young. As the barkeep continued to speak it became apparent that this was the one who he had informed Leander about. The one looking for swordsmen to hire. As the barkeep sang the fake swordsman’s praises and they both bowed, though it did not show, Leander was quite relived. Surely such a frail woman couldn’t set a very dangerous task.