Centuries ago, long before Yoroshu's birth, there existed a desert bandit turned Z-Fighter, that warrior was named Yamcha. The Hyena who made the desert his stronghold, he was long dead, as was most memory of him... most. Within the dangerous depths of the Diablo Deserts, the place Yoroshu and Yamcha once called home, memories, and stories of the long dead, long forgotten Z-Fighter's lived on. This is how Yoroshu came to learn of Yamcha, the Desert Bandit.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________Yoroshu's hair had changed since he left the deserts, it was shorter, lighter, more combat-efficient. He was visiting his home, as he hadn't seen it since he left the Diablo Deserts, he had the location of his old home memorized, and it was by far the place he held dearest in his heart. He had a canteen of water, and a backpack full of snacks, he wanted to walk there instead of fly, simply because he preferred it over flight. The scorching temperature was something he was accustomed to, sometimes he liked the sting of being in dire heat. He kicked at the sand as he went along his merry little way, having whatever fun he could in a barren desert. He kept his power suppressed, he didn't think any power opponents would be in the desert, but he didn't want to find out, he just wanted to sight-see, specifically his old home, though, he didn't expect to see it. Last time he did, it was in flames, the only thing inside it were the bodies of Na and Cho.

He half expected to see a bandit camp in his place; in fact, he welcomed it. He had pent up aggression he was itching to take out. He'd been walking for quite a time, sand collected on his boots, his canteen was nearly empty, but, he had found where his home used to be, his expectations were realized, a bandit camp had been placed over the ashes of his home. He, despite expecting this, was livid. How dare they? He popped his neck, and threw his backpack to the ground as he approached the camp. It wasn't very large, though it was somewhat spacious. It had several tents set up, firewood for campfires and the like. He could tell it wasn't deserted, warm plates and capsules were still there. And upon further inspection, a bit of loose zeni. He pocketed that. He tried to be as stealthy and subtle as possible. He heard chatter from one of the tents, he had to keep his distance lest he be discovered and have his fun ruined. But from what he could hear, these were bandits for sure.

Go time. He walked back to the center of the camp as discreetly as he could, most tents were zipped shut, so it wasn't too hard to not be seen. He knew they were there. Now to kill them. He grabbed one of the plates, which still had bits of food on it, and raised it in the air, he looked left, and then right. And then he threw it to the ground, it shattered into a million pieces upon impact, the sound of the shatter was enough to alert the bandits. As planned. They all zipped open their tents, there were about fifteen to twenty give or take. Some held guns, others knives, and swords. Bullets didn't hurt him anymore and most knives and swords would break if someone attempted to stab him hard enough, so he wasn't worried at all.

They didn't recognize him, mistake on their end, bullets bounced off him like a ball being thrown at a wall, he zoomed towards one, and elbowed him square in the jaw. He ran towards another, the bandit thrust his arm towards Yoro's neck, he deftly dodged it, grabbed the bandits arm, and smashed it over his knee, breaking it. He swiped the knife and threw it at one of the other bandits, shooting Yoroshu to no avail, it pierced his head. He then continued to blast the rest of them away with ki blasts. After all was well and done, he went to do his looting. He searched every tent, only finding useless scraps, and a bit of stolen zeni here and there. He was about to walk away when he nearly tripped over a corpse of a bandit. He was dead, killed by one of the ki blasts, he had a satchel on his. Interesting. Yoroshu ripped the satchel from the corpse and surveyed its contents. He didn't find anything, except for a scroll...


 Yoroshu was understandably confused, so he unrolled it. It was a poem, about a warrior, a warrior by the name of Yamcha. Yoroshu dismissed it, though he kept reading out of sheer boredom


"With hands as swift as claws, 
 all scurry and flee, when the warrior Yamcha calls..." That line grabbed his attention, as the poem went on, it became evident Yamcha was a warrior with a fighting style similar to Yoroshu's, the paper looked ancient, it was difficult to read in some place, he surmised it may have been centuries old. He was determined to figure out who this "Yamcha" was.

He continued walking, and walking until he came upon a small town, it looked like it's inhabitants may know a thing or two about folklore. So he decided to see if they perhaps know anything of the warrior. He knocked on every door, went in every shop. Yet no one seemed to know of Yamcha. He was at his wit's end  when he was approached by an old man, easily in his eighties, he had wrinkly skin, kind eyes, glasses. And a long, snow-white  beard. He didn't have an inch of hair, and he had a tilted little hat.
"Are you the young'n asking around about Yamcha?" Yoroshu turned to look at him, upon hearing the words, his face lit up with joy, he was elated! Someone knew who this Yamcha was, he nodded ecstatically. "Yessir, old timer, that's me!" The old man motioned for Yoroshu to follow him, and he did.

He lived in a wooden house, same as the others, though this one had a more rustic feeling to it. They entered his house, he had a campfire to light up the living room, which was unusual for the time. He motioned for Yoroshu to sit down on his couch, after he did. The old man plopped himself down on a rocking chair, which was facing the couch. 

"You said you knew something about Yamcha, old timer?" Yoroshu asked, eager to learn who this mysterious warrior was.

"Oh, yes. But you can call me Willy. That's what the folks roun' here call me." He began to rock in the chair, Yoroshu nodded. "Get comfortable, it's a long story." Willy said. "In fact, let me pour you a cup'a cocoa." Willy began to get up, but Yoroshu stopped him. He wasn't getting impatient, but he was eager to know who Yamcha was, Willy sat back down.

"Centuries ago. There was a band of fighters from all across the planet, some weren't even from it. They were, at the time. The most powerful fighters around. Yamcha was one of them. He was a desert bandit, but eventually, he joined the Turtle School and trained under the great Turtle Hermit. He developed attacks like the Spirit Ball 'n the Wolf Fang Fist. Yamcha's kind of a folk hero 'round these parts, due to the upbringing an' all." Turtle Hermit. Spirit Ball. Wolf Fang Fist. What were these attacks? Who were these people? Willy told him everything he knew, which was only a couple more details about Yamcha. And the location of one of the lasts notes on the Wolf Fang Fist. It was decided, Yoroshu would have these notes, and the Wolf Fang Fist. "Thank you, William. I can't tell you how much help you've been. I'll find those notes, I can promise that." Yoroshu said. William looked sad to Yoroshu go, but he did have one last piece of advice. "These deserts can be dangerous, y'know? Be careful out there. You ain't the first to go looking for Yamcha's moves." Yoroshu smirked. "I think I can handle myself." He remarked, he stepped out of the house, leaving William to rock in his chair.

The notes on the Wolf Fang Fist were kept by a large group of bandits who'd stolen the notes and kept them for generations. It was their most valued and cherished possession. And he was going to take it. He set out his journey to find the last notes on the Wolf Fang Fist at the dead of dawn, staying at hotel as he prepared.

Yoroshu left the hotel, he stared at the starlit sky. The deserts reminded him of the home he had lost, and the life he had proudly abandoned. He smiled before he began on his journey, it was long, and arduous to get anywhere. Hours turned into nights, nights turned into days. Nearly weeks Yoroshu spent travelling, looking for the bandits who held the knowledge on the Wolf Fang Fist. While he was traveling the sandy dunes that made up the Diablo Deserts he encountered a bandit with the insignia of the bandits who held the scroll that kept the information on Wolf Fang Fist. "Hey, you!" Yoroshu called, popping his knuckles. The bandit turned to him, he grew a crooked smile. "Fifty zeni. And I'll let you live." He said. Lifting up his jacket to reveal a gun. Yoroshu put his hands on his hips. "Fifty zeni to live? Your prices are way too high, man." Yoroshu joked.
The bandit glared at him, drawing his gun and pointing it directly at him.

"I'll ask ya one more time. Fifty zeni." His voice was scratchy and gruff. His skin was dark and sun tanned.  Yoroshu laughed. "Nah, I think I'll just keep on walking." Yoroshu replied, not taking the bandit seriously at all. "Why you little!" He fired at Yoroshu's head, but he caught the bullet, with relative ease. Humanity may have evolved but bandits still used old guns. "You got anything faster?" Yoroshu asked tossing the bullet aside, the bandit started trembling,, stepping back slowly. Yoroshu approached him, confidently. "So, you know anything about Wolf Fang Fist, friend?" He asked, a sneer on his face, the bandit dropped to the ground, and began stuttering.

"N-no! I've never heard'a such a thing, please don't kill me!" Yoroshu pulled the pathetic bandit up by the collar of his shirt. Staring him directly in the eye. "I won't. Just tell me where your little group keeps the notes on the Wolf Fang Fist and we won't have any trouble here." Finally, the bandit relented. "It's kept in a safe at our nearest camp, 15 miles north! But they'll never let you have it!" Yoroshu chuckled. Tossing the man to the ground. "I don't need them to.'" He replied, he almost left but he realized the bandit could've been lying. He picked him back up. "What are you doing? I gave you what you want now leave me alone!" He yelled.

"No can do. i can't trust you, if they're where you said they are, I'll let you go. You don't want to know what'll happen if I find out you've lied to me." He replied, they continued to trek the harsh Diablo Deserts until they came upon the camp the bandit group supposedly stayed at. It was much larger than the one Yoroshu had encountered earlier. "Well, nice job, you told the truth. I'll let you go." Yoroshu threw the man back... hundreds of feet. "Whoops. Guess I don't know my own strength. Now, about that move." Yoroshu had already spent enough time looking for things, he wanted to go in guns blazing again. But they may run off with the notes on the move or worse, destroy it. So he continued to be sly. While one of the bandit guards was out on patrol Yoroshu snuck up behind him and incapacitated him with a single chop to the neck. Yoroshu put his gi into his backpack and assumed the guard's clothing, he'd use it to infiltrate their camp. He snuck in, as discreetly as he could be

Due to the large amounts of bandits staying at the camp, it was easy to be apart of the crowd. He still didn't know where they kept the notes on the Wolf Fang Fist. Another bandit came up behind Yoroshu. "Hey, Ruck is assembling us, c'mon." He said, motioning Yoroshu to follow him, Yoroshu shrugged and followed, Ruck seemed to be the leader of the bandit group. 

His voice was deep, harsh, and powerful

"People! Among us, lies a traitor! Graep found Razen unconscious just outside the camp, almost completely naked! We're conducting a camp-wide role call, if you're not on the list, we'll have found our traitor." Damn it. Now how would he find the notes on Wolf Fang Fist? He had to get it before he was ousted as a traitor. When role call began, Yoroshu slipped out of the crowd and began checking tents. He spent a while searching to no avail, that is until he came upon a safe. That's great! He could easily rip it open, he popped his knuckles and just as he gripped the handle. He froze upon hearing the words shouted behind him. Those words were "I found the traitor!" He had been caught. He ripped open the vault, yes! The notes were in there!, He grabbed them as quick as he could, he blasted down the man who exposed him, upon leaving the tent... every bandit had their weapons pointed him...


"Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope." He said, ascending in the sky and raining hell in the form of ki blasts as he tried to kill the bandits, he landed just outside the now burning camp, he swiped his backpack and took flight. He opened up the scroll and read to his hearts content.  Soon he would master the Wolf Fang Fist


WC: 2436