Glory of the Emerald Empire (Legend of the 5 Rings Quest)

[Winged Knight]

[x]...Thank him for his advice.
[x] Take solace. You were wrong. Whatever mistakes you make in trying to be gentle with your intended cannot *possibly* be as bad as following this advice would be.


You continue to stare at Talak'tet for several more seconds, unsure of how to respond to this strange advice. You knew that Nezumi are different from humans culturally, but you weren't aware of just how much. If you followed the Ratling's advice chances were good that the best-case scenario would be you are made Ronin. At worst, you would likely have to commit Seppuku to purge yourself of the dishonor.

You cough into your hand to clear your throat, trying to give yourself a few moments more to think up a proper response. Sadly, it doesn't seem to help. That being the case, you decide to just move along as best you can and hopefully forget this conversation ever happened.

"Than you for the advice," you say, trying to be as diplomatic as possible. "It is certainly… enlightening."

Talak'tet throws back his furry head and laughs, slapping a hand on his knee. You blink as the Nezumi is overcome by mirth, and slowly it begins to dawn on you that perhaps the Ratling wasn't being entirely honest with you. Your face reddens yet again, and you scowl at the Nezumi.

"Please," Talak'tet says, wiping a tear from his eye. "Please don't be offended, Hiruma Sosuke. You just looked so serious! I thought I might have a little fun to try and break up the horribleness of this place."

"I was asking for real advice," you say as you cross your arms and look away from the Nezumi.

"I know," Talak'tet says, his mirth dying down to mere chuckles. "But sadly, I don't think there's much advice I can give. It's not just that our cultures are different, Hiruma Sosuke. It's also that Nezumi do things that humans cannot when it comes to courting."

"Really?" you ask before looking back at the Nezumi. "How so?"

"The part about he stick was true," Talak'tet says. "You must show that you are important, that your name will be remembered in Yesterday. But you must also release the scent of desire where the female can smell it. If she responds with an answering scent, then you may proceed. You must bring beautiful objects to show you can gather wealth, and then both you and the female must go to the Shaman. If the Shaman approves, you may mate."

"That's it?" you ask, uncrossing your arms. It seems Talak'tet is being serious now.

"That's it," the Nezumi says. "So you see, Hiruma Sosuke? My advice would not help you much. Humans are not capable of giving off specific scents." Talak'tet leans back against one of the junk piles. "And besides, Nezumi rarely mate for life anyway unless they are a chief or some great hero. We stay together for about two years to ensure the pups can take care of themselves. Nezumi pups only need one year before they are grown enough to live on their own."

"That's very different from how we do things," you say. "Marriage tends to be a life long commitment for humans, and done to tie families and clans together to help better relations."

"I know," Talak'tet says. "Honestly, I think you humans put too many complications on mating. But again, our needs are different. Humans must concern themselves with Families, Clans and Empire. For Nezumi, there is only the Tribe. The good of the Tribe is the good of all."

You nod. That makes sense. Samurai must concern themselves with many issues, obligations and responsibilities. That means attention must be put in several different areas. But the Nezumi don't have that. Or, if they do, it's significantly less important. They have to focus on supporting the entire Tribe and ensuring it lives on. Considering all the troubles the Nezumi have lived through, you're really not surprised this mindset would come about.

Which results in some rather telling cultural differences. You're honestly a little surprised that Rokugani and Nezumi could ever come to an accord, what with such divergent mentalities between them. But then again, it was the Crab who first brokered good relations between the two species. Both Nezumi and Crab fight the Shadowlands, and that was all you both needed to begin dialogue.

It's a shame there are still many in the other Clans who judge the Nezumi solely on appearances, but that's their loss.

[]Sleep. (Roll Will to avoid dreaming)
[] Write In.

 

[Winged Knight]

[X]Sleep

Will Roll: 3d10=14


You yawn, and notice just how tired you are after a long day fighting and marching. Talak'tet looks similarly tired, and you figure it's about time for you both to actually get some rest. You've got more walking to do tomorrow.

You don't turn in immediately, of course. You first check to make sure the flap covering the entrance to the burrow is set, and then you make sure Jarit'ya drinks some water and takes down as much food as he's able. You also check the bindings on his chest. They're holding firm, and should be keeping his ribs from moving too much. At least, you hope so. You're not the most adept at medicine aside from cleaning wounds and staunching blood.

Those duties done, you and Talak'tet also eat a little food. You wolf down one of your rations, and the Nezumi gobbles up some strange meat that you're actually pretty sure isn't fit for human consumption. You don't comment on it, though.

Your weapons in easy reach, you settle yourself down on the floor and close your eyes. Within moments, you are fast asleep.

o\O/o​

You are in a vast city with towering structures, and Nezumi walk everywhere. They're all taller than the Nezumi you're familiar with, though. They stand a good head and shoulders above Talak'tet in height, and they wear fine clothing. Little pups walk with their parents, and all the Nezumi appear to be well fed. They're all just so much healthier than you're used to.

You don't see a single human in sight. That's odd. You also note that there are not an excess of trees, so this can't be the Great Home located within the Shinomen Forest. So where, then, is this great city of the Nezumi located?

One of the Nezumi looks up into the sky and screams. The others on the street soon join her. The Ratlings all scurry away, running for their lives. Almost unbidden, you turn to see what has terrified them so.

It's a giant ball of fire falling from the sky.

The flaming meteor slams into the city, and the earth shakes. You feel heat and fire wash over you, but you are not burned. The Nezumi, however, scream as their flesh melts from their bones. Mothers screech and try vainly to shield their children from the flames with their bodies, and fathers stretch out their arms as if they might catch the fires before they touch their families. It is a hopeless, futile gesture. The heat reaches them all the same. The pups barely even have time to scream before they are consumed.

The sheer horror of what you are seeing makes your eyes water. The Nezumi are burning to ash as the fire spreads or falling into terrible chasms opening up in the earth, screaming as they tumble into the darkness. You want to do something, to help them! But you cannot. All you can do is stand there, a spectator as thousands of Nezumi die en masse all around you. Their cries are a bitter testament to your helplessness, and you cannot stop your tears at this wanton carnage.

Great cracks spread across the ground, and buildings fall as the inferno reaches its apex. A towering tornado of fire lances upward and touches the sky before finally dispersing. All that is left of what was once the center of a great city is a huge, gaping pit that seems to fall into forever.

Nezumi clad in armor approach the pit, spears and swords at the ready and bows set up behind them. There is no movement from the hole, no sound save the settling of buildings and the crackling of fires. A few of the Nezumi move closer, and peer down into the giant hole.

Sickly green light flashes up from the pit, and the Nezumi scurry backwards as a huge hand reaches up and slams into the ground. A giant beast, easily forty feet tall, pulls itself out of the pit and roars. It has no face, just a giant set of teeth where its chest should be, and slams into the Nezumi lines with such force that it sends the Ratlings flying in all directions.

It is an Oni. It can be nothing else, for no other creature could be this foul, and there are even more coming out of the chasm. They are of all shapes and sizes, each one different from the next. They tear into the Ratlings, rending their flesh with tooth and claw and dark magics. The Nezumi fight back as best they can, steel in hand, but the Oni just laugh at their efforts. The demons hardly even seem to notice they are being attacked.

A tentacled monster sweeps up ten Nezumi into its mouth, blood spurting from its jaws with a sickening crunch while another Oni made of molten rock engulfs an entire platoon, burning the Ratlings slowly to ensure they die in pain. Another rushes past the Nezumi like a howling wind, and where its breeze touches the Nezumi all melt into steaming piles of broken flesh. All this and more occurs as the Oni lay into the warriors of the Nezumi, and it becomes obvious the Ratlings can do nothing but retreat or be destroyed. So the Nezumi do the only sensible thing to ensure the Tribe lives on.

They run.

As the Oni give chase to the fleeing Nezumi, it dawns on you just exactly what you are seeing. This is the birth of your Clan's duty. This is the creation of the Festering Pit, and it came with the near destruction of an entire race. You did not think the existence of the Pit could become more terrible, but somehow it has found a way.

There is a hand on your shoulder, and the scene shifts.

You are in the garden again, and that same woman from before has set your head in her lap. There is no more fiery heat, no more screams. There is only clean air and the sound of wind blowing through the Sakura trees.

The woman is gently stroking your face, taking care as she moves over the two scars near your left eye. Her touch is soothing, and takes away some of the lingering pain. Despite that you're looking right at her, though, you still can't make out what she looks like. Her face is just as blurry as before.

She's wearing a green kimono, though. You can tell that much just from where you're resting. It's of fine make, too, easily something a high-ranking member of court might wear. But it is unadorned, and no designs are set in its fabric. That strikes you as a little strange, for something so well made to be so plain. Why bother having nice clothes if you don't personalize them a little?

"So dutiful," she whispers to you, her voice like music. "So steadfast. And yet, so kind."

Her hands stop for a moment.

"But still so young."

o\O/o
​

You groan as you wake up, pushing yourself off the ground. Another strange dream, and you're not sure if it was spawned from your conversation with Talak'tet about his people's history or just another nightmare birthed from the Shadowlands' evil. Either way, it was damned odd.

You really hope that's not going to become a regular occurrence, but something tells you that you won't be that lucky.

Talak'tet is already up and packed, and seeing to Jarit'ya. The Nezumi turns to you as you stand, and pats his wounded side.

"Feeling much better today," he says. "Sleep does a wonder of good."

"I'm feeling a bit more refreshed as well," you respond. It's true, too. Your ribs aren't nearly as sore as they were yesterday.

"Good to hear," Talak'tet says. "I'll be heading out after Gazat'ken now, unless you've some issue to discuss on that. I should be up for some extended running today now that I've got a better handle on my injury."

[] Write in.


Sosuke has, for the most part, gotten a full night's sleep. He has recovered 9 Wounds, and his current Wound total is 70. That puts him back in the "Healthy" bracket and he will no longer suffer penalties for actions. Also, he has recovered the Void Point he spent yesterday, placing his total at 2.

 

[Winged Knight]

[X] Get moving. You've got to warn your clan of the coming threat.
-[X] Keep the same pace as yesterday's journey.


"I'll miss your company," you say to Talak'tet as you pick up your equipment. "But it's still probably the best chance to let Shinsei's Last Hope know of the danger they're in."

Talak'tet nods. "True enough. I will run as fast as I can. If Gazat'ken has not given them word yet, I will."

Talak'tet helps you wrap Jarit'ya in the sling and settle him over your shoulders. The injured Nezumi whimpers a little in his sleep, but otherwise doesn't do anything. He looks a little better today, but it's obvious Jarit'ya is going to need a lot of time before he recovers.

Your shoulders sag a little under the Nezumi's weight, and you're thankful you managed to get as good a rest as you did even despite the nightmares. You bow to Talak'tet as carefully as you can, and Talak'tet bows back. Then, as quick as you can blink, the Nezumi rushes up the tunnel and out of the burrow.

You follow him at a much slower pace, and when you step outside you can already see that Talak'tet has gotten a significant lead on you. You place the camouflage back over the entrance to the burrow and follow after him, keeping the same pace as you did yesterday. You're hoping to cover as much ground as you can by the end of the day, not by the end of the hour.

In mere minutes Talak'tet has crossed beyond the bounds of your sight, and you can't help but wonder at the Nezumi's swiftness. What the Ratlings lack for in durability they more than make up for in sheer speed. The only thing you could think of that might be faster is a man on horseback. You silently wish the Nezumi well, and hope he reaches Shinsei's Last Hope safely.

The day passes slowly and without too much trouble as you walk, at least compared to the previous ones. You have to make detours when you find some patches of Fudoshi and Takesasu in your way, too thick to simply move around, but aside from that there's really not too much trouble.

It's actually a little odd, now that you have time to think about it. Sure, you've fought some of the monsters of this place, but the Shadowlands really should not be this quiet. Granted, you're still within the region the Crab Clan regularly patrols and purges, but even then there should have been a few packs of Goblins or some other beast.

Could they all really have gone underground into secret tunnels? That might explain the lack of so obstacles up above, but you find it really doesn't comfort you much. That level of coordination implies that the creatures of the Shadowlands are becoming organized again.

The last twenty years since the death of Daigotsu have been relatively light, all things considered. The hordes still attack the Wall, but it isn't constant and there isn't any true direction behind the assaults. To suddenly go from disorganized rabble to plotting out attacks this complex… Could a new leader have risen? Has something else taken control of the Shadowlands once more?

"Sorry-sorry," Jarit'ya says suddenly, breaking the silence and pulling you from your thoughts. You blink and turn your head to him. The Nezumi is shuddering weakly in pain, but he is awake. "Sorry-sorry Jarit'ya is keeping you from help-helping your Clan. Is important, yes-yes? Like Tribe?"

[]Write in.

 

[Winged Knight]

[X] Having your brother's run ahead does far more for my tribe than I could have alone. Carrying you to safety is a small price to pay in return. The Crab and Nezumi are allies. We help each other.

Investigation Roll: 4k2=16


It's obvious, even through the pain he's in, that Jarit'ya feels guilty for slowing down your pace. You frown at that. While it's true carrying the Nezumi is slowing you down, he also got himself injured for your sake. He took the blow from that Ogre that very well might have crippled you. The very fact that he's hurt at all is because he was helping you and your Clan.

That being the case, you feel no hesitation in what you say next.

"Having your brothers run ahead to warn my Clan does far more for the Crab than I ever could alone," you say before turning your gaze forward and trudging on ahead. "Carrying you to safety is a small price to pay in return."

"But Crab is your Tribe, yes?" Jarit'ya asks. "You need to help-help Tribe."

"And I will," you respond. "But the Crab and the Nezumi are allies. We help each other, and I would be dishonoring that trust if I just left you behind."

"Yes-yes," Jarit'ya says before breaking into a rasping cough. It takes him a few moments to recover. "Crab have always been good-good to the Nezumi."

"And we always will be," you respond. "Sleep, friend. Get as much rest as you can. I'll keep us moving."

Jarit'ya mumbles something and squirms a little in his sling, hissing a bit in pain as he does. But soon enough he still, and the Nezumi is fast asleep. You find yourself matching your pace to the faint sound of his breathing, and in a way it's almost hypnotic. Hours pass by as you walk, going ever southward. The sun reaches its apex, and then begins to descend.

You keep your wits about you even as you move along, keeping an eye out for any potential threats. Just because you can't see anything doesn't mean it isn't out there. These are still the Shadowlands, and that means danger is always close by.

Even still, as you pass through what looks like it might have once been a hill before it was smashed into a hundred boulders, you almost don't notice the sounds of voices. You immediately cease walking and look around, trying to gauge just where exactly the noises are coming from.

There apparently people in conversation about twenty feet ahead of you and to the right. Slowly, ever so carefully, you maneuver your way through the forest of rocks and try to find a good position to look upon the speakers. Eventually, still maintaining a healthy distance, you manage to catch sight of them.

There are three Samurai all sitting around a fire, cooking some kind of meat. At least, at first glance they might have been mistaken for Samurai. By the blind, anyway, or perhaps just the stupid.

All three are wearing shoddy armor covered in dirt and grime, but even that is better than the look of these men's faces. Their skin is horribly discolored, and awful growths pustule over their bodies. They each have katana at their belts, though the sheathes of those once noble weapons look as dirty as the rest of these men. The blades are probably little better, if at all.

One of them seems to not have human teeth, his jaws instead resembling something more like a shark's mouth. His eyes, as well, seem to glow a little bit with reflected light. Almost like a cat's eyes, really. The other two, at least, merely look like they're half dead instead of freakishly mutated.

You grimace. These men are Tainted, and rather badly just by the sight of them. No doubt they've already fallen to the influence of Jigoku, and have very little in the way of true will left. Oh, they might believe that they think for themselves, and go through the motions, but the reality of the matter is they're little better than puppets now. Either by choice or misfortune, there's nothing left of the men they once were.

"Wish we had something better to eat," one of them says, looking over the sticks as the meat cooks.

"Yeah?" the shark toothed one responds. "Well, too bad. We've got what we've got. Learn to live with it."

"That rat thing yesterday looked tasty," the third one says. "Wish we could have caught it. Would have fed us for a week."

Your eyes widen. Rat thing?

[] Listen in.
[] Sneak away. (Roll Stealth)
[] Attack.
[] Write in.

 

[Winged Knight]

[x] Listen in.


You tilt your head and listen closely. These Lost are speaking of a "Rat Thing." Could that have been Gazat'ken? Did these Tainted creatures come across Nezumi as he ran to Shinsei's Last Hope? If so, then something might have happened to him. And if that's the case, then word of the impending attack has been delayed. It's risky to linger when enemies are so close, but you figure you've little choice but to wait a while. You have to be sure.

"Think that was a Nezumi, or something like that," one of the Lost says, picking up one stick of meat and tearing off a chunk with his teeth. "They're supposed to be rats, so I'm told."

"Eh, don't matter what they're called," his companion responds. He pokes at one of the sticks with his fingers, testing if the food was cooked. "Just thought it looked tasty. Got a fair bit of meat on it, not like what we've been catching."

"Would you stop talking about that?" the shark toothed one says. "It's gone, and you're not gonna get to eat him. Besides, you wouldn't like the taste anyway, not since my blade hit true."

"Oh!" the first Lost says around chews. "You still had some of that poison left?"

"All gone now," the shark toothed Lost says before pulling up a stick and tearing a giant chunk out of the meat. "Used up the last of it. Was sure it would drop that damned animal, but the rat just kept on running."

"Damn shame," the second one says before finally taking up his own stick and taking a nibble. "Sure looked tasty."

"You are just not going to shut up about this, are you?" the shark toothed one says as he finishes off his meal. "We've got a a duty to perform, and it doesn't involve eating rat men."

"Not entirely sure why we're out here, myself," the first Lost says. "Shouldn't we be with the main force in the tunnels?"

"Kyosuke-sama gave us strict orders before we came East," the shark toothed Lost responded. "Keep an eye out for any scouts heading to or from the targets. You know that. So do your damn job!"

"That Nezumi was probably a scout," the first Lost says, taking another bite.

"And my poison has had a full day with it," the shark toothed lost growls. "It's dead, so stop going on about it."

"Fine," the second Lost says. "If you're going to be all cranky about it."

The shark tooth Lost mumbles a curse and lies down, pulling out a dirty pillow to rest his head on. He yawns, a disturbing thing with his sharp teeth, and looks at his companions.

"I'm going to sleep. Wake me up in a few hours for the next watch."

The other two nodded their assent, and within a few minutes the mutated former Samurai is fast asleep. His snores are loud and resounding, echoing off this forest of rocks strangely. His companions, meanwhile, simply eat the rest of their food in silence.

[] Write in.

 

[Winged Knight]

[X]Sandman/Sirrocco

Void Point Spent to temporarily gain Skill: Stealth. One Void Point remains.

Stealth Roll: 3k2=17


You've heard everything you need to. Chances are good these three Tainted souls wounded Gazat'ken yesterday. These dishonorable curs used poison on him, though from their words they might not have any more. You grit your teeth, tempted to rush in and bludgeon these fools into a fine paste for injuring your comrade.

Then you take a moment to breath, and think it through. You've got to get to Shinsei's Last Hope. If Gazat'ken was poisoned, then that means only you and Talak'tet are left to warn the village. Furthermore, you have to take care of the injured Jarit'ya. You gave your word, and you're not about to risk failure.

As quietly as you can, you move away from your position. Neither of the two Lost still awake are looking in your direction, just peering into their fire. You time your steps with the snores of the shark toothed lost, and you get an appreciable distance away. You think you're in the clear, when suddenly one of the Lost speaks up.

"You hear something?" he asks, and you stop dead behind one of the rocks. You hold your breath and listen as hard as you can, straining your ears to pick up every little noise.

"All I hear is wind and Hachi snoring," his companion says back. "Sound's all weird in this place."

"I could have sworn I heard something," the first one says again. "C'mon, I think we should start looking around."

"Seriously? But I want to eat the rest of the food!"

"You can eat after we check!" the first one snaps back. "Come on! I want to make sure it's nothing before we wake Hachi up. You know how much be complains when he doesn't get any sleep."

You hear the two Lost standing up and gathering their gear, and you can feel sweat bead down your forehead. These two don't know where you are, but they're still aware there's something making noise out in the forest of boulders. You've got to think of something fast.

[] Set Jarit'ya down and attack.
[] Stay still and hope they overlook you.
[] Cause a distraction and sneak away.
[] Write in.

 

[Winged Knight]

[X] We're almost clear. Get behind a large rock (if you aren't already) and set down Jarit'ya. Then stay still, tetsubo ready.
-[X] If they get too close, ambush them.
-[X] If they give up before they find you, that's great - hold still until they go away, then move off.

Y'all got really lucky with these guy's rolls, let me tell you.


Slowly, ever so carefully, you take Jarit'ya from your shoulders and set him down at your feet. The rock you're hiding behind is taller than you, and wide enough to hide you from sight. It's the best spot you're going to find without moving around, which would likely attract attention.

You tense, and keep both hands ready on your tetsubo. If either of these fallen souls comes toward you, there will be a single moment to strike before they can retaliate. You're determined to make it count.

You hear the Lost wander about the forest of boulders, looking around for the source of the noise they'd heard. But neither of them come near you. You'd already made it a good distance away from their camp before they'd detected your presence. Perhaps they'll keep looking in all the wrong places?

"I'm not seeing anything," one of the Lost says to his companion. "Are you sure you actually heard something out here?"

"Positive," he says back. "There's definitely something out here."

You shift your grip, waiting for them to walk near you. But they never do. The Lost wander about with their weapons drawn, making a circle around their camp. They don't venture out too far, though. Whether it be laziness or true martial caution, these two don't seem to want to wander too far away from their sleeping comrade.

"I'm not seeing anything," the first Lost says again. "Look, the wind makes weird noises in this place. Maybe that was it?"

"Could have sworn I heard footsteps," the other Lost says. "Maybe we should explore further?"

"It was the wind!" the first Lost responds, his tone exasperated. "Come on. Let's go back to camp and finish off the rest of the meat. I don't want to waste all the hours of our watch chasing after things that don't exist."

"Fine," the other Tainted man says back. "If you're going to keep whining." He grumbles a bit under his breath. "This is going to bother me all night."

You hear the two of them wander back to their camp, and restrain yourself from exhaling noisily. You didn't even notice you'd been holding your breath, readying yourself to attack at a moment's notice. But that doesn't seem like it will be necessary now. Whatever moment of insight that had aided that one former Samurai, it obviously didn't hold up.

Gently, taking care not to rattle Jarit'ya, you place your Nezumi comrade back over your shoulders. Then, moving as quickly and as quietly as you can, you make haste from the forest of boulders. After half an hour, you are back in open ground again.

The walk for a few more hours, and it starts to get dark. You look at the setting sun and wince, and you know you're going to have to stop for the night soon. But once again, you've not covered as much ground as you would have liked. The delay with the Lost didn't help matters, though you did learn some interesting information.

Kyosuke, you think to yourself. Could that be the one organizing the forces of the Shadowlands to the West?

"Burrow there-there," Jarit'ya says over your shoulder, taking you away from your thoughts. The Nezumi points to a collection of holes in the ground, like some giant beast had stabbed the earth with a spear several times. Which, for all you know, might actually have been the case. "Can stop-stop here. Is getting late-late."

[] Write in.

 

[Winged Knight]

[X]Sirroco

Atheletics Roll: 5k3=29
Stamina Roll: 3k3=22


You shake your head, and move along past the burrow. Jarit'ya makes a questioning sound, and you turn to look at him with one eye as you walk.

"We need to keep going," you say as you put one foot in front of another. "If the battle is tomorrow, then we must get into Shinsei's Last hope now or we won't make it inside at all." You give him a grin. "I think I can get us there."

"But you very tired-tired," Jarit'ya says. "You sure-sure?"

The Nezumi is right. You are tired. You've been walking almost two days with Jarit'ya on your back, and even if you weren't you'd still not be at your best. You've spent three days in the Shadowlands and gotten into two fights that have left you cut, scarred and bruised. You've trained for this, but training is very different from experience.

But this is your duty, and the only way you're set to fail in that duty is if you drop dead before you complete it.

"I can make it," you say, shifting your shoulder slightly to make them more comfortable. They're starting to burn a little under the load. Jarit'ya hisses in pain a bit at the motion, and you wince. "Sorry."

"Is all right-right," Jarit'ya says. "If you sure-sure you can do it, then walk-walk. Just take care, yes-yes?"

"Of course," you say. "I'll be careful."

And so you march, taking one step in front of the next. There is hardly any light to see, aside from the pale shine of the moon through the clouds. But you are used to that now. After only a few days, you have become used to much of what the Shadowlands presents. A dangerous, Taint infested hellhole it might be, but it is not insurmountable. The enemy might never be truly defeated, but they can be held back. They can be studied, and they can be pushed away. The Crab has been doing this for over a thousand years. It will continue for another thousand more.

The hours blur as you walk, and your body makes its protests known. Your ribs begin to ache again, a reminder that they are still bruised from your fight with the Ogre. The cuts on your face sting a little, but not nearly as much as the one on your leg. You cleaned it as best you could, but it still twinges every time you take a step.

And your shoulders, by all the glories of Heaven, the ache in your shoulders. You are used to carrying heavy loads, but the combination of all your gear and Jarit'ya's weight is taking its toll on you. Your shoulders burn where your makeshift sling digs into them, pressing your armor into your flesh.

You are exhausted. You've been marching through the Shadowlands for days now, getting what sleep you can. But now you have denied yourself even that. Now you are determined to push on to Shinsei's Last Hope, to warn them in case they have not yet received word of the incoming attack. As the hours go by weariness digs its way into your very bones, dulling your senses and slowing your thoughts.

And you do not care. As the fog of exhaustion takes root in your mind, you focus on one, solitary thing. You have a duty to perform, and you will do it. Nothing else matters.

You avoid all foliage you encounter, for you realize you have neither the time or the mental acuity to determine what is safe and what isn't. When you hear sounds that might be living things, you move away from them as quickly as you can. Nothing can impede you, nothing can stall you. You know only one thing. You must march.

The march is everything. It has become your entire world. Nothing else exists save you, the Nezumi on your back, and the next patch of ground where you place your foot. Everything else is superfluous, unimportant. All that there is, is the march.

You can barely keep your eyes open when the light of dawn peaks its way through the cloud cover. It startles you and pulls you back further into wakening, but already you can feel yourself slipping away again. You have never felt this tired, never been this weak. You sway a little as you take your next step, and have to steady yourself to keep from falling over.

In the light of day, you see a wall in the distance. It is not the Great Carpenter Wall, which stands one hundred feet tall. No, this is a village wall, its structure lined with Jade. You can see the tops of a few buildings poking above it, the structures similar to those you've seen in Shiro Hiruma and the other lands of the Crab Clan.

This is Shinsei's Last Hope. You have arrived.

You can't keep the weak, tired smile from reaching your lips. You are so exhausted, so drained. Not even your harshest training sessions have taken so heavy a toll on you as this walk has. But it has all paid off. You've made it.

"Hey there!" a voice calls out. You turn your head to the side, and see a group of ten Crab Clan Samurai approach you. "Halt and be recognized!"

"I…" you say as loudly as you can, though your voice sounds so soft in your ears. "I bring news." Your legs buckle, and you fall to your knees. "An attack. There's going… to be… an attack ."

Your face hits the ground, and you hear Jarit'ya hissing in pain and the Crab patrol rushing over to you. You can briefly feel them taking the Nezumi off your shoulders, turning you over. You peer into the faces of your Clansmen, their expressions wary but concerned.

And then you close your eyes, and fall into the oblivion of sleep.

o\O/o
​

You are in a dark place, a place so dark that you almost cannot remember what light is. That darkness spreads on forever, has no ending. You're not even sure it is ground that you stand upon. For all you know, you could be floating atop air. It is as if you have been incased within shadow itself.

There is no sound, here, no smell. There is nothing at all. But despite all that it is not peaceful. This is not the serenity of meditation. No, this stillness comes from something pushing its will down upon the world, blocking all else out. It is heavy, and you have to force yourself in order to move or even stand beneath the weight of this place.

"So you are the one," someone says behind you, breaking the oppressive silence. You turn, and recoil. Standing there is a giant of a man in black and red armor, his face covered with a skull like mask with two pointed horns on either side. And his eyes... His eyes are lit like a bloody, crimson fire. "You are the one who has interfered with me."

The man takes a step closer, a hand on his sword. You reach for your tetsubo, but find that it isn't there. In fact, to your shock, you realize you are naked. There is nothing at all barring you from this man's gaze. You have been laid bare, and you are defenseless.

"Do you think yourself a hero, boy?" he asks, drawing his blade. "Do you think you have stopped me? You have merely delayed the inevitable. A weakling such as you is not my equal."

[] Write in.

 

[Winged Knight]

[X] Sirroco

Attack Roll: 3k3=19


The sheer power of the man before you rolls off your skin in waves, and you can't help but shudder. If this is the Kyosuke those Lost mentioned, then he is terrifying in the extreme. The smell of blood washes off him like an ocean, and even this nothingness seems to shudder with his power. With the death of Daigotsu, it seems this man has rallied the forces of the Shadowlands to himself. This could be the prelude to a whole new hot war with the forces of Jigoku, a return to the constant attacks of old.

And, more immediately important, this could mean your death. This Kyosuke has apparently determined the part you played in foiling his scheme, and desires to take retribution out of your hide. Naked as you are, you're not sure there's anything you can do to stop him.

But if that is the case, then you will die with honor.

You marshal your courage, standing to your full height. Kyosuke is but a few inches taller than you, and you can meet his terrible eyes easily enough. Those crimson orbs frighten you, but you reign back your fear and speak clearly. You are not one for words, but if these are your final moments then you had best let yourself be known clearly.

"Of course I'm not your equal," you say with all the conviction you can muster. "If you were steel I'd be a pebble. Nothing but chaff before you." You grin, showing your teeth. "But, you see, the interesting thing about pebbles? Get enough of them together and you get a wall. Gather more and you get an even stronger wall. On and on until that wall becomes a mountain, so thick, so strong, that even steel is stymied by it. That is what I am, not a hero but a rock in a wall. That is what it means to be Crab. Those who delay the darkness."

"The dark will have its due, child," Kyosuke growls out as he comes closer. His sword alights with crimson, bloody fire. "The Crab will perish, and we will reign over your Empire with blood and power. We have nothing but time to accomplish this."

"There isn't enough time in all the world," you say back, your voice rising to a shout. "I shall continue to delay you, as my ancestors and their allies have done since before the first Day of Thunder, and as my descendants and their allies shall continue to do long after all I am is dead and forgotten. For that is what it is to be Crab!"

With that you rush in close, and you can see you've taken this Kyosuke slightly off guard. That gives you a chance to let these last few seconds be one of defiance, to spit in the eye of the enemy one final time. You thrust out a hand to grab his sword arm and slam your head forward, intent on ramming your skull onto your enemy's.

But Kyosuke recovered more swiftly than you ever would have imagined, and steps back. Your strike misses him entirely, and Kyosuke answers your assault with one of his own. You are taken off your feet as the Dark Lord's elbow smashes into your nose, breaking it and sending you reeling. You land hard on your back, groaning as tears form in your eyes from the pain in your face.

"Is that all you have, boy?" Kyosuke says as he comes closer, lifting his sword overhead. "Pretty words but no strength to back them up?" He looms over you, his entire body glowing the color of blood. "If so, then I shall end this."

The sword comes down, and you know for certain you are going to die. If this is a dream, then it is one with powerful influence on reality. You are not certain exactly how you know this, but you do. You close your eyes, ready to accept death.

A flash of green light through your eyelids startles you, as does the frustrated scream of your enemy. The cry of rage reverberates strangely in your ears, like it is getting further and further away within a long tunnel. And then, finally, it fades to nothing.

When you open your eyes, you are laying down in the garden you have seen so many times in your dreams. You are wearing a simple kimono, and though your nose still hurts the pain is not as bad as it once was. Wincing a little, you stand up.

"Brave," says the voice of your savior behind you. You turn to her, but once again cannot make out her features. All you see is the color of her robes, green like fresh grass. The rest of her is hidden behind an overwhelming light. "So brave. But still so young."

"Who are you?" you ask, trying and failing to peer through the light. "Why do I keep seeing you?"

"Because you have attracted my attention," she says. "Your nobility, your kindness and your bravery mark you." She reaches out a hand to stroke your face. "But you are still so young. Too young. You have not yet reached the fullness of your strength."

She moves in closer to you, and you realize she's actually a bit taller than you are. The light still blinds you, but it does not cause you pain. All it does it keep you from making out her features, from seeing the face of your savior as she takes your face in both hands.

"Wait for me, servant of Hida's Will," she says. "I will return for you once you have come further into your own. And afterward?" She pauses a moment, as if uncertain. "Afterward, we shall see what fate brings."

She brings your face to her own and kisses you, deeply and fully. You can feel warmth suffuse every inch of your body. The pain in your nose fades away to nothing, and the light overwhelms all. Aches you did not even recognize vanish, and you close your eyes. You have never felt this calm before, never felt this relaxed. This feeling… This peace… It is beyond description.

You wish you could stay this way forever.

o\O/o
​

Your eyes snap open, and you look around wildly. You're in a fine, if sparse, room within what is obviously a barracks of some sort. You sit up, and you can see your armor has been removed. You've been stripped to your smallclothes, and your wounds have been properly bandaged. You touch your nose and hiss a little. It's not broken, but it definitely still hurts. It seems this was indeed yet another dream that was not a dream.

"I am getting real tired of that," you say, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

"I imagine you're just tired in general," says a voice off to the side. An older woman is there, a medicine bag over her shoulder. "You've been sleeping most of the day, but you still overworked yourself. Your body will need some time to recover."

"I don't have time for that," you say, standing. You almost fall down, but manage to steady yourself by putting a hand on the wall. You ache all over, and you're so tired. But you can't focus on that now, not when the possibility of danger still exists. "There's an attack coming! I have to-"

"The attack has come and gone," the woman says. "It's been over for two hours now." She breathes deeply, and you notice she seems incredibly weary. "I've been treating the wounded all day. Such a massive assault… I can't help but fear what might have happened if we had not been forewarned."

"So Gazat'ken and Talak'tet made it?" you ask, hope blooming in your heart. "Word came through?"

"A Nezumi reached us two days ago, terribly wounded. I take it you know him?" The medicine woman's expression changes from weariness to sorrowful resignation. "Then you should go see him. He is not long for this world."

[] Write in.

 

[Winged Knight]

[X] Go see him. Go see him *now*.
- [X] Wait. Make sure that you're clothed enough to be decent. *Then* go see him.


Your blood runs cold at the woman's words. Gazat'ken must have made it. But that foul, tainted mutant… His words were true. That Lost One did strike your friend as he ran, and all that time poison must have been flowing through his veins. But even still he ran, forced himself to carry word of the attack despite his wounds.

You have to go to him. You have to be by his side. He has suffered for you, for your Clan. If he still lives, if he has somehow held on, then you must be there for him. You can't let him be alone. Not in what is likely his final hours.

"I must see him," you say, pushing away from the wall to rest your weight firmly on your own legs. The motion almost sends you falling flat on your face. "I must…"

"There is a robe there," the medicine woman says, motioning to the end of your bed. "Dress yourself, and I will take you to him."

You put on your robe as quickly as you can and follow the medicine woman. You have to keep a hand on the wall of the hallway to stay upright, but you manage to keep up with her brisk pace. She leads you to a smaller, more private room and opens the door.

Gazat'ken lays on a bed inside, Talak'tet by his side. Jarit'ya is laying on a bed next to it, properly bandaged and looking much better now that he has had medical attention. But Gazat'ken… Gazat'ken looks awful.

His fur has fallen out in clumps, and the flesh beneath is a sickly yellow from which the Nezumi's veins stand out clearly like black lines. His stomach is bandaged, but red has stained the cloth deeply. Even worse, you can see signs of pus seeping out from the wound. It's thick and vile, a brownish green that smells so bad you have to keep from gagging on the stench. Even worse, some of Gazat'ken's teeth have fallen out and what remains is discolored with rot. He is a wretched sight.

Gazat'ken's eyes are clouded, and he is writhing in pain. It is a weak shuddering, though. The Nezumi looks three quarters dead, and cannot have much energy left. Whatever poison was used on the sword that injured him so, it has caused Gazat'ken unimaginable agony. Where once you knew a swift, agile scout is nothing but a broken creature but a few shallow breathes from the grave.

As you look at this, you cannot help but wonder how Gazat'ken still lives. You know the Nezumi are resilient, practically immune to disease, but what you are looking at defies belief. Gazat'ken should be dead right now. It is a miracle he is still alive.

"I have done what I can," says a man in the room. You look up, only just noticing the Kuni Shugenja. He is a tall man, and the face paint he wears makes him look fierce. "But the poison has been in his blood too long. The fact that he ran did not help matters. It spread the toxin too far within his body."

"There's nothing you can do?" you ask as you enter the room. You kneel down by Gazat'ken's side, taking in the Nezumi's pitiful form. He's barely even breathing. "Can't you help him?"

"Don't you think I would if I could?" the Shugenja growls. He turns his face away to hide the shame from his expression, though you can see his hands clenching. "This Nezumi is a hero. My inability to save him leaves me dishonored."

"Nothing can be done now," Talak'tet says forlornly, head bowed. "Tomorrow has caught up to Gazat'ken. He can run from it no more."

"Hiruma Sosuke?" Gazat'ken rasps, his back arching a little. Talak'tet pushes him down gently, but Gazat'ken reaches out a hand in your direction. It is a weak motion. It is obvious the Nezumi can barely move at all. "Hiruma Sosuke, is… that… you? I hear-hear… but I cannot… see-see."

[] Write in.