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The 47 Ronin v1.3 (c#1A72A6.fdr - Whoa is (Not)

The 47 Ronin v1.3 (c#1A72A6.fdr - Whoa is (Not)

The 47 Ronin v1.3 (c#1A72A6.fdr - Whoa is (Not)

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57.<br />

-- A DRUNKARD in a bar gulps down h<strong>is</strong> sake...only to find<br />

Asano’s CREST at the bottom of h<strong>is</strong> glass. He turns to look<br />

and finds OKUDA beside him...<br />

-- A BEGGAR squats at a bridge calling for alms when Asano’s<br />

CREST clinks into h<strong>is</strong> donation blanket. He touches it and<br />

looks up...to see ISOGAI before him...<br />

-- LABORERS straining to lift giant stones against a slope<br />

for the foundation of a castle when BASHO appears. Three<br />

familiar faces instantly drop what they’re doing and move to<br />

him. ..<br />

-- In China, HANJO speaks to a Mercenary Officer, who ties<br />

O<strong>is</strong>hi’s scroll onto the leg of a hawk and urges the bird<br />

skyward...<br />

-- A MONK <strong>is</strong> in meditation outside h<strong>is</strong> temple. When he<br />

opens h<strong>is</strong> eyes, he <strong>is</strong> surpr<strong>is</strong>ed to see ASANO’S CREST before<br />

him.<br />

-- In a sapling forest, a group of BRIGANDS spring from<br />

concealment to rob a traveller...only to find the traveller<br />

<strong>is</strong> HAZAMA bearing Asano’s CREST. <strong>The</strong> Brigand Chief, one of<br />

Asano’s principal retainers, kneels and weeps at Hazama’s<br />

feet.<br />

-- In a rice paddy, a FARMER and h<strong>is</strong> WIFE are harvesting<br />

knee-deep in muck when a shadow falls over them. It’s O<strong>is</strong>hi.<br />

AERIAL SHOT - SKIMMING ABOVE CHINA<br />

We’re on a v<strong>is</strong>ual rollercoaster ride FOLLOWING the falcon as<br />

it navigates the wild air currents over Mongol China. We<br />

wheel through the sail rigging of junks on the river, then<br />

barely skim over the top of the Great Wall --<br />

-- to REVEAL a MASSIVE DUST CLOUD where an EPIC BATTLE <strong>is</strong><br />

underway.<br />

In no time, we fly into it. ARROWS fly past like a steeltipped<br />

rainstorm.<br />

<strong>The</strong> falcon doesn’t care, dipping down into the carnage where<br />

we see a company of MERCENARIES battling against the MONGOL<br />

HORDES.<br />

We fly just overhead, the machinery of war turning men into<br />

mincemeat, until the falcon spots what it’s looking for: the<br />

STANDARD of the merc company.<br />

Dodging crazily through sword swipes and speartips, the<br />

falcon makes it to the STANDARD BEARER and lands on h<strong>is</strong><br />

shoulder.

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