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

[Winged Knight]

[x] Then who is this enemy?


You can't help the scowl that crosses your face. For someone who claims to be 'up front,' this ogre is quite verbose and circumspect. Intelligent ogres are remarkably chatty, it seems. Frankly, you're beginning to think you prefer ogres as dumb brutes. They bellow spittle in your face and try to beat you to death with trees, but at least they are direct.

From the creature's grin, a monstrous display of teeth, you can tell it knows just how its words have annoyed you. You don't think the ogre is playing around with you, at least not intentionally. It could, however, be gaining some small amusement at your expense as the conversation goes on.

You've had quite enough of that. You'll not be anyone's fool, especially not to some Tainted brute who has only recently grasped language.

"Then what is this true enemy?" you demand. "Answer me, ogre. I would know just whose skull my tetsubo must break this evening."

"A servant of the slaver of my kind," the ogre responds, lowering the sword. It's mouth curls up in distaste. "What you call a Maho-tsukai."

"You speak the truth?" Shasa asks, her sword held to the side in both hands. It is not raised to attack, but can easily be done so in less than a moment. "A Bloodspeaker is here, taking children? Do you know why?"

"I don't make it a habit to lie," the ogre growls, looking offended. "That implies I have something to hide, and that is weakness." It glowers at the three of you. "I am not weak."

That seems to have touched a nerve. What little you know of intelligent ogres from your Clan's few encounters with them is that they despise weakness. That means this monster is likely going to be touchy about odd things. Shasa's perfectly innocent question, for instance.

Well, the ogre can just sit there and take it. You don't care if this beast is touchy about how it's addressed, or what implications you hurl its way. You've spent most f your life killing monsters like this one. It can get offended all it wants, but you'll still have your answers if you have to beat it out of the foul thing's hide. Which, frankly, might be preferable to continuing this conversation.

But you restrain yourself. Now is not yet the time for violence. The ogre appears to be telling the truth, for you cannot detect any lies in the creature's tone or posture. That means the real enemy is still out there somewhere, and for now that is the foe you must deal with. You can handle other matters at a later date.

"Answer her question, ogre," you say. "Why is this Maho-tsukai stealing children? For what purpose are they terrorizing these people?"

"To fuel some foul magic, I suspect," the ogre replies. "I came across him one evening weeks ago, and smelled the Taint upon him. So I assaulted him with a club. He set corpses upon me, and lit the club on fire." It pats the sword. "I decided I needed a more resilient tool in order to kill him, and I have destroyed four of his corpse walkers already."

"But why do you desire his death?" Shirou asks, looking oddly curious. The monk steps forward, hands at his sides. He looks seemingly harmless, but you know full well how deceiving such things can be. "You happened across him by chance, you say. What, then, has spurred you to this path? "

"Because he serves the one who enslaved my people and broke their minds," the ogre responds. "Willingly or no, it does not matter. He furthers the cause of Jigoku just by existing. For this, he must die." The monster glowers at you. "Do not get in my way, Samurai. I've finally discovered the fool's lair. My sword will taste his blood tonight."

[] Write in.

 

[Winged Knight]

[X] Then let us fight him. As you say, his very existence is an affront. He must die, and he must die today.


"Then let us fight him," you respond. "As you say, his very existence is an affront. He must die, and he must die today."

The ogre looks at you quizzically, leaning its head slightly to the side. "Us, Samurai? Do you mean you and your companions, or are you saying something else?"

"I mean that we don't have time to waste on fighting you," you say. "Not if you aren't the kidnapper." You shift your grip on your weapon. "If it is as you say, and a Maho-tsukai is responsible, then that is where our focus must lie."

"And you would have no issues if I also wished to kill this man?" the ogre asks. He leans forward and gives a wry smile. "Would that offend your sensibilities, Crab? To have one such as I as an ally?"

"We are not allies," you growl. "I'll not have anyone saying such. No, ogre, we are merely fighting the same foe and ignoring each other, nothing more and nothing less. Any… personal issues can be set aside to battle the immediate enemy."

"Interesting," the ogre says, cupping its chin. "And unexpected. You are a strange one, Crab."

The monster stands up, reaching its full height. The creature towers over you, almost eight feet tall. It is not often that you feel short, for most of the time you loom over your fellows quite easily. Now, though, you are very obviously not the largest person in the area. It is an uncomfortable experience, and in more ways than one.

The ogre slides his giant sword into his belt, the blade fitting easily. The blacksmith was right. The blade is easily the size and weight of a no-dachi, though the ogre wields it as if the weapon were only a katana. You eye the sword warily. Something that large with the strength of an ogre behind it… That is a danger to keep in mind.

"I am Muharanok," he says. "Son of Katarano, son of Gosomak, son of Muhomono, son of Muhonarak."

"I am Hiruma Sosuke," you respond warily. You're used to giving names, but the ogre went a listed… family history, you suppose. Is it some strange custom? "Of the Crab Clan."

The ogre nods. "Very well. Follow me, and I will lead us to our mutual foe."

Muharanok marches away from the fire, leading further into the hills. You follow at a reasonable distance, staying out of charging range of the ogre should this all have been an elaborate trap. Even keeping your distance, you're not very comfortable with this affair. You've spent your entire life fighting monsters like this one, and now you're letting it guide your path.

Even more, the ogre's words bother you. You only know ogres as rampaging monsters, clad in wasted rags and swinging trees around like clubs. But Muharanok is intelligent, and claims enmity to all creatures of Jigoku. As far as you know this isn't something that can happen.

A group of intelligent ogres may have once tried to ally with the Crab, but this was after serving Daigotsu in an extended campaign that took several watchtowers along the Wall. Hida Kuon, the Clan Champion, had been well within his rights to slaughter the leader of that monstrous band and as many ogres as he could get his hands on. The Crab have no love for these creatures, be they capable of reasoning or not, and have killed the beasts for centuries. It has always been this way.

But is that really the case here? you ask yourself. What do I do after all this if his intentions are true?

"Sosuke-san," Shasa whispers, her hands tight on her still unsheathed sword. "Are you completely sure this is a good idea?"

"No," you respond. "But for now, it seems better than getting into a confrontation we do not need."

"I'm not so certain," Shasa says, glaring at the ogre's back. "The beast could be leading us into some trap."

"It very well could," you say. "Which is why I will be counting on you to help me keep an eye out." You smile at her. "I think we'll be able to handle ourselves, Shasa-san. We've enough skill and strength between the three of us to handle any foe."

Shasa blinks at your words, looking uncertain. Then, finally, she nods. You restrain a sigh of relief. You spoke only the truth, but you didn't want Shasa to know just how concerned you are about this situation. Maho-tsukai are even more dangerous than ogres in their own way, and everyone will need to keep their spirits strong in order to face him. Confusion and doubt could kill as easily as any sword.

You glance at Shirou, who while keeping an eye on Muharanok seems mostly at ease with the situation. You almost envy the monk, being able to stay so calm despite the strangeness of these events. It is a useful skill, maintaining one's serenity as he does.

Eventually Muharanok leads you to a large hill, a sizable opening set within its side. The hole leads downward into darkness, obviously going deep into the earth. However, that is not the most striking thing that catches your attention.

You smell blood on the air. Your grip on your tetsubo tightens such that the leather of its handle creaks. People have died here, and in no small numbers. And in their passing the atmosphere has been saturated with their blood.

That seems as good a sign as any that you have reached your destination.

[] Write in.

 

[Winged Knight]

[x] Get some torches, and enter the cave carefully. Be ready for battle.
[x] Let Muharanok take the lead, and stay out of his way.


The darkness of that cave makes you scowl. You can hardly see within, and it appears to go deep into the ground. You briefly consider just going in anyway to get the drop on the Maho-tsukai, but then dismiss that thought. Your experience earlier was a firm reminder that stealth is not your expertise. You've no desire to make a fool of yourself.

So you instead rip off some branches from the trees and tie some cloth around them. Shasa and Shirou catch on quickly to what you're doing and help you. Soon enough you have three torches burning, providing illumination beyond the moon's light as evening fully encroaches upon the world.

During all this, Muharanok stays silent. The ogre merely waits with his arms crossed, and quirks an eyebrow at the sight of the torches. He grins at you, and once again you cannot help but marvel at the disturbing image that makes of the monster's teeth.

"Are you ready, Samurai?" the ogre asks. "I fear I might fall asleep waiting for you."

"You can take a nap if you want, ogre," you respond. "And we'll go on ahead to kill the Maho-tsukai." You motion toward the cave with your torch. "But if you're feeling awake enough, you can go in first."

"You do not trust me?"

"There is nothing in all of the Emerald Empire that would make me trust an ogre at my back," you answer. "Now are we going to kill this fool tonight or just stand around talking?"

Muharanok just shrugs and shakes his head. You get an impression the ogre finds your words amusing. Whatever the ogre thought, he still takes up the front and walks into the cave before your group. You step in close behind him, just out of striking range of the monster's sword.

The ogre has to hunch over to actually fit within the tunnel, and even you find yourself almost uncomfortably close to the ceiling. What the tunnel lacks in height it certainly makes up in width, however. There is enough room for almost four men to walk side by side comfortably, though all of you move in a straight line to better spread out.

These are the least things you notice, however. Most prominent on your mind is the scent of blood. It had been bad outside, but in here it is almost overpowering. You have fought in war, and killed many foes. The stench of battle is not unknown to you. But this… This is something else again.

The odor is almost like a living thing, closing around you and forcing its way into your lungs with every breath. The smell of blood, of life having been spilled, permeates the air here. It bounces off the walls and leaves no space unfilled. The smell cannot… No, it refuses to be ignored. There is no escaping it, no recourse from the ever-present stench of death.

What are we walking into? you wonder. How many have died here?

You can find no answer to your questions, and instead try your best to focus on the walk before you. Muharanok's expansive back takes up a great deal of the cavern's width, but you can still see ahead. The tunnel is sloping down at a gentle angle, going ever further into the earth with no branching paths in sight. It is just a straight line cutting into the world.

Eventually, though, after about half an hour the angle straightens out. You have no skill for this kind of activity, the realm of such things being more suited for the Kaiu, but at your best guess you might be almost a hundred feet underground. You truly rest now within the depths of the earth.

Before you stands an entrance to a larger cavern, where flickering firelight seems to be exuding. The smell of blood is coming strongest there, hitting you like a wave. You almost gag; it is so strong, and just manage to maintain your composure. There can be no doubt you have reached your goal. If a Maho-tsukai has taken residence within these lands it could only be in a place such as this, a place of filth and blood.

You open your mouth to speak, to bring forth a plan. The words die before they ever form when Muharanok simply strides forth, his sword held in both hands. The ogre seems to have little need of any kind of refined strategy.

You look at your companions, who just shrug in response.

"Well," you mutter. "It's probably what we were going to do anyway."

"It always does seem to come down to this, doesn't it?" Shasa asks. She seems pale in the torchlight, no doubt affected just as you are by the atmosphere of this place. "Time to go forth."

"It is always time to move forward," Shirou says. "It is only the question of whether we have the heart to take that step."

"There is no question at all," you say, striding forward. "Let's go."

The cavern you step into is wide and vaulted, the walls set with shimmering crystals that reflect the light of a great bonfire set at the back of the cavern. All around the cave are torches set into the walls, providing further illumination and reflecting the shine of those brilliant gems even further.

This would have been a beautiful; perhaps even awe-inspiring sight if it hadn't been for what also lay inside the cave. A small lake of blood was positioned within the center of the cavern, where it bubbled as if set under a low heat. Bones lay littered around it, along with the rotting remains of other viscera. This is not helped by the symbols painted in blood along the edges of that lake and across the walls, glyphs that you can't understand but burn your eyes and mind all the same with the evil they contain.

Looking at it brought the smell you've been experiencing to its full, awful potency, and you barely keep yourself from putting a hand to you mouth and retching. This place… It is a realm out of nightmare. It is pain and vileness and evil. It must be purged, burned with fire until nothing remains. Just being within these walls makes you feel unclean.

And there in front the great bonfire is the man you have been seeing in your dreams. Kohsa, clad in tattered, crimson robes. The man's black hair is coarse and stringy, and as he looks at you with wild eyes you can tell he has not been sleeping properly. Though his clothing is torn and faded, you think you can see the Mon of the Isawa there. This man is… was, one of the Phoenix. His arms are stained red with blood, and in his grip he holds a knife.

Before him is a low stone table, where a child lies unconscious. Thick leather straps bind him tight, and you can only surmise at what was about to happen. The thought makes you draw your lips back and show teeth.

"Intruders?" Kohsa asks, looking up from his work. "I have no time for this."

"You have time enough to die," you growl. "Release the boy and I'll make it mostly painless."

"I make no promises," Muharanok snarls. "You escaped me twice. There will not be a third time."

"Ah… I see you're back," Kohsa says, scowling. "I've no time for you either, beast. My work is almost done, and I will brook no interruptions!" He spread his arms wide. "I will defeat the Great Kharmic Wheel and rectify a mistake that should never have happened! I will see my children again!"

"Enough talk!" Muharanok bellows, charging forward. "Time to die!"

"Never!" Kohsa screams. "Not until Michiko and Taru are with me again! Not until the insanity of Moto Shinichiro's brutality has been cleansed!" He draws his arms close, as if hugging himself. His maddened eyes, however never leave you. "You will not stop me!"

Six bloated, rotting corpses ran out from behind the bonfire with far more speed than dead things should have. They were clad in peasant clothing, wielding simple weapons like knives and farming tools. Muharanok slammed into them, but three zombies intercepted and stopped him short, though one fell quickly as the ogre pulped it into so much refuse with his shoulder. The remaining two laid into him, forcing Muharanok to defend himself.

The final three, however, come shambling toward you.

[] Attack the zombies.
[] Attack Kohsa.
[] Write in.

 

[Winged Knight]

[x]"Shasa, Shirou take the Zombies, I'll handle the sorceror"
-[x]Full charge and smash!

Attack Roll: 7k3=31
Damage Roll: 6k3=70


"Take the zombies!" you shout at the top of your lungs, already running forward. "The sorcerer is mine!"

Shasa calls out to you, but you don't hear the words past the wind rushing by your ears. You've no time to be distracted anyway, for the undead are all but on top of you. The corpse walkers reach toward you with rotting hands, but you dash around their grasping fingers and head straight for their master. From behind you can hear the clash of battle, and know that your comrades have already rushed forth behind you to come to grips with the enemy. That brings a smile to your face. You've nothing to fear so long as your comrades have your back.

Even at this distance you see Kohsa's eyes widen with alarm as you approach. But you are not focused on his eyes. Instead, you are focused on his mouth, where his lips are moving in a quickened chant. The Blood Speaker is casting a spell! You have to hurry!

The Maho-tsukai thrusts a hand out before him, where a glowing ball of fire emerges. You push more speed out from your legs, trying to reach him in time. Even still, it is too late. Just as you come within ten steps Kohsa shouts at the top of his lungs as the fire careens toward you. There is no time to dodge, no possibility of moving out of the way. No matter what, the magical attack will hit you.

So instead you simply barrel on through it. You leap into the air as he fire hits, the blaze expanding quickly into an explosion as the flames wash off your armor in a corona of light and heat. You can feel the force of the blow spread across your mother's gift. The masterfully crafted Kaiu armor withstands the attack easily, taking the brunt and leaving you only moderately singed.

You land on your feet as you exit the conflagration, settling right in front of the stunned Blood Speaker. Roaring at the top of your lungs, you swing your tetsubo with all your might. You strike cleanly, giving the Maho-tsukai no time at all to dodge or lessen the impact of your attack.

Time seems to freeze as your weapon slams into Kohsa's chest, leaving nothing in the world save you and your enemy. For a moment you could almost swear your tetsubo actually bends as the force of your strike lands, and with no armor Kohsa was left taking the entire brunt of the attack. The man's eyes are wide with surprise and agony as his feet leave the ground, his body folded over your tetsubo like paper.

And then time speeds up again. Kohsa screams as he is sent tumbling over his table, landing in a heap before the small lake of blood. He gasps for breath, clawing at the air futilely before managing to flip over onto his hands and knees. He gasps and hacks as a stream of bloody vomit pours from his lips, and tries to stand up. The attempt fails utterly, and Kohsa is sent sprawling across the ground in a pool of his own fluids.

You're not surprised. You felt several of Kohsa's ribs break beneath your strike, and from the amount of blood that came out you imagine you ruptured some of the man's organs. Never before have you felt one of your attacks strike that powerfully, and you are almost certain a normal man would have died beneath the weight of your assault. It is a wonder the Blood Speaker yet lives.

Something you mean to correct quite soon. You step out from behind the table, shifting your grip on your tetsubo. You can take no chances, not with a Maho-tsukai. Even now, broken and bloodied, the man is dangerous. He will not stop being dangerous until you have pulped his skull to mush.

"No," Kohsa croaks, still gasping for air. "No! I… I cannot fail! I cannot!" He forced himself up onto his knees and reared his head back. "ONI! By the pact we have made, I call you forth! Defend me! Do not let my work be in vain!"

You have no time to react to the man's words as an utterly massive body drops from the ceiling and lands behind Kohsa. It loops around the Maho-tsukai, protecting the sorcerer's body with his own behind a veil of darkness that slowly breaks away beneath the light of the cavern. Your jaw drops as the shadows peel off the creature's form, revealing a shape out of nightmares.

Its body is like that of a centipede, if such creatures grew to the size of houses. Each of its many legs is tipped with a sharpened blade, and its pitch-black body is covered in chitinous plating. It coils and shifts grotesquely, its very flesh making noises that unsettle your mind and stomach in ways you've never felt before. It is by any measure a monster, something that should not exist in any sane or just world.

But worst of all is its face. No, it does not have just one face. Faces. When the Oni turns to look at you, it does so with the gazes of six pairs of eyes, each set within a child's face. Those faces smile at you, beatific expressions utterly horrific set within the body of this insectoid abomination.

"But of course, my dear Kohsa-sama," the Oni says, each of those six mouths speaking in unison. The effect is chilling, the voices of children talking as one toward a single purpose. "Your wish is, as always, my command."

[] Write in.


Sosuke has taken 2 Wounds. He is still in the Healthy Bracket, and has 76 Wounds remaining.

 

[Winged Knight]

[x] Slam it's face in with a tetsubo

Will Roll to resist Fear: 3d10+6= 13. Failure

Attack Roll: 4k3=29


Fear hits you like a physical force as the Oni skitters toward you, its pointed legs clacking across the floor in quick taps. This is a monster above any other, a creature spawned from the physical substance of Jigoku itself. Evil made manifest, given shape and form to torment the innocent and break the valorous. Nothing stands higher amongst the banes of your Clan.

Your limbs feel heavy… Your mind… clouded. How can you hope to stand against something like this? How could anyone hope to defeat something so awful? This is an Oni. It is the monster that feeds on courage, the abomination that kills hope and the demon that shatters all faith.

It is death itself, and it is coming for you.

Those six, childish faces that compose the Oni's front smile at your shocked stupefaction as the creature rears up to loom before you. It is so large… How can it be so large? How can anything right and proper be this huge? But the answer is obvious. Nothing can, for this monstrosity is an affront against all that is natural and clean. Its very existence defies all sanity, destroys the comforting illusions of a rational world.

Move you fool! you scream within the depths of your terror-addled mind as the deadly sharp limbs of the Oni come for you. Fight! Fight, Heavens damn you! You're going to die!

With a wrench of your battered will you force yourself to move. You swing your tetsubo, trying desperately to force this awful thing away. Your weapon moves with unseemly haste, driven more from fear than determination or rage. But despite all your speed and desperation, the Oni's sinuous body twists out of the way just inches before your tetsubo would strike clean.

"Naughty boy," the Oni says in its six-tone voice, all its heads speaking at once. It strikes at you almost lazily, and you stumble away just in time to dodge a terribly sharp limb.

The follow up attack, however, hits you dead in the chest. You gasp as you are taken off your feet, flying back into the stone table where the boy Danzu rests. The power of that strike, the strength behind it, is such that you actually break off a few chips. A groan of pain slips past your lips, your composure slipping in the face of the utter horror of your situation

You barely keep a grip on your weapon, can only just manage to stop yourself from clutching yourself in pain. You can feel the bruises forming already on your chest and back, and know deep in your bones that it is only the grace of your mother's gift that kept that attack from being so much worse. You put a hand on the table and attempt to stand, your legs shaking as your enemy begins to skitter toward you.

A zombie flies through the air toward the Oni, but the monster dodges the corpse easily and turns toward its attacker. The Ogre, Muharanok, charges toward the spawn of Jigoku with sword in hand. The ground almost seems to shudder beneath the Ogre's weight, and with a roar of defiance Muharanok swings his sword. The power behind his blow is such that you can feel a breeze even from where you desperately try to regain your footing.

But it is to no avail. The Oni twists around Muharanok's attack as easily as it did your own, and continues to motion to wrap around the Ogre. Its sinuous body twists and constricts, closing tight. Its spiked limbs dig deep, drawing rivulets of blood as the Oni turned its many faces toward the Ogre.

"Oh, isn't this just wonderful!" the Oni says as it wraps ever-tighter around Muharanok. "The dumb beast finally has a chance to fight back against one of its masters! What fun!"

"I do not serve you!" Muharanok bellows. "I am free!"

"But are you really, little pet?" the Oni asks. "Your people saved the world once, defeated Jigoku's great champion Rakshasa back when everything was so much younger. So proud you all were! So fierce!" The smiles on the faces grow wider. "And now your kind is nothing but our slaves! How does it feel, beast, to be released of us only to better know your failures?"

"Silence!" Muharanok roars, his muscles bulging as he attempts to get loose. "The Mikata will be free of your ilk! We'll kill all of you wretched filth and send you screaming back into your pit!"

"So angry," the Oni says mirthfully. "Such an ill-tempered pet." Its claws dig in deeper, drawing rivulets of blood as Muharanok screams in agony. "We'll have to fix that."

[] Write in.


Sosuke has suffered 18 Wounds. He is in the Grazed Bracket and has 58 Wounds remaining. He will suffer +3 to all TNs until he has healed.

I will allow the use of an Honor Roll to shake off the effects of the Oni's Aura of Fear, should you decide to take it. Also note that you have two Void Points still because you've not spent any today, so you can choose to negate 10 damage should you desire.

 

[Winged Knight]

[x] Keep bashing the oni with your tetsubo. You're samurai. You're crab. You're the wall.

Attack Roll: 7k3=24


You run forward before the Oni can regain the initiative, swinging your tetsubo. It is a fine strike, with all the strength you can bring to bear behind its weight. But once again, the Oni shifts away and dodges your blow. Your assault hits nothing but air, and the Oni makes a cacophonous racket as its pointed limbs skitter across the ground.

It's so fast! you think as you settle back into your stance. How can anything so large be that fast?

"Keep it penned!" you shout. "Don't let it break free!"

Shasa strikes out with a piercing cry as the Oni tries to break past her position. Despite the great bulk of the monster rushing toward her, your friend stands firm. Her katana sparks off the creature's carapace, drawing sparks but not doing any real damage. Even still, the Oni rears back and moves away from your comrade, changing course toward the opposite direction.

But Shirou is there, ready and waiting. The monk unleashes a darting punch, his body still shimmering with heat from whatever Kiho he has brought to bear. The Oni hisses in six voices twirls backwards, managing to keep away from your friend and the terrible fire he has made of his body.

Finally, Muharanok moves forward. His huge muscles tensing, the ogre roars and unleashes another powerful attack against the spawn of Jigoku. The Oni shrieks and backs away quickly, scuttling as quickly as its legs can take it from the wrath of the ogre and his giant sword. Blood still pools from where Muharanok struck it before, and the Oni undoubtedly wishes to avoid suffering the ogre's furious strength once again.

We've got it, you think to yourself. We've got it trapped.

It's true. The Oni has nowhere it can go without risking attack. Nowhere, that is, but straight back. The vile monster retreats ever further as you all slowly advance, keeping eyes on everything at once to keep from being taken unawares. Its six faces keep track of everything, those twelve eyes narrowed in concentration and annoyance.

Ultimately, that might be the crux of the issues you've been having with landing an attack. The beast is alarmingly swift for something so big, but it is the fact that it cannot seem to be taken by surprise that is giving you the most trouble. If it can always anticipate you, then how can you ever hope to strike this awful creature?

Quickly enough there is nowhere else for the Oni to go. It backs away from you and your allies, keeping out of reach of any attacks. Its back end touches the far wall, and it stops moving. The monster goes completely still, looking at all of you and frowning.

You can't help a smile. Despite an awful beginning to this confrontation, despite that you have yet to land a single blow upon this living blasphemy, this is going well. No one has died yet, and you have restricted the Oni's movements. If the next few seconds goes well, you might finally be able to make some real progress in ending this fight.

"You think me trapped?" the Oni asks, his voices filled with a mixture of amusement and irritation. "You think to herd me like livestock? To be brought to the slaughter as you move me into the killing fields?"

The Oni rears up, looming above everyone, and you quickly remind yourself that you can never underestimate an enemy this dangerous. Even now, closed in on all sides, the Oni is perilous beyond measure. To think otherwise is to court your own destruction. You are not safe no matter what your position is. You will not be safe until this abomination is dead.

"I am no weak, piddling spirit drawn forth from Jigoku's embrace!" the Oni continues. "I have been given a name! I have been delivered strength and form and power!" All six heads look up, and it spreads its claws in exultation. "You, and all who live, will learn to fear the name of Kohsa no Oni!"

All six mouths open, and a low crooning fills the cavern. Your blood runs cold at the noise, and even more at the Oni's words. A name… It has been given a name! With a name they have definite shape within Ningen-do, could subsist on the essence of an identity and not waste its power to maintain a grasp upon the world. Oni are horrible enough without such things, but with a name they can manifest truly terrifying abilities.

Abilities perhaps related to the sound the Oni is emitting right now.

[] Attack!
[] Retreat!
[] Write in.

 

[Winged Knight]

[X] Ask Shirou to go kill Kohsa
-[X] You and Shasa will keep it there. You are Crab; you are the wall.

Attack Roll: 7k3=25
Will Roll: 3k3=15


As the droning sound of six voices fills the chamber, you feel your senses begin to dull. Your vision blurs, and the crooning of the Oni fills your ears. Something is happening to you. It's not the fear from before. That was an overwhelming, unbearable wall of terror that forced you to fight against your own instincts to do anything.

No, this is something different. Your mind is feeling… dull. You can still think clearly enough for now, but you don't know for how long that will last. This fight needs to end now. But you can't seem to land a hit on this monster!

Maybe it is time to try a different tactic. If Kohsa has given the Oni his name, then that means they are connected on some level. The fool has bound his soul to Kohsa no Oni. Perhaps if the Maho-tsukai died that would weaken this abomination? It's at least worth a try.

But you've only just gotten this damned thing penned in and surrounded! If you leave, it might open up too large a hole for you all to cover. How much can you risk for this plan? Are you even the best person to go?

You glance at Shirou, who looks back at you out of the corner of his eye. Your friend is fast, certainly faster than you. You are in heavy armor, and you've seen the monk dart about at speeds that frankly startle you. He would be the best for this.

You edge toward Shirou, keeping one eye on the Oni. You have to do this slowly. You have to be careful. If you fail here, then all the hard work you've done over the last minute will have been for nothing.

"Shirou!" you call. "Go for the Blood Speaker! Kill him and-"

You cut off with a curse as Kohsa no Oni rushes forward toward the small opening between you and Muharanok. You swing your tetsubo, but the monster manages to get out of the way. Your attack is not in vain, however, for even as the Oni rushes by Muharanok swings his sword.

Trapped between the two of you there is nowhere for the Oni to dodge as it rushes toward freedom, and the ogre's blade slices a deep gouge into the beast's carapace. Steaming blood spurts into the air, chunks of chitinous plate flying beneath the power of the blow. The Oni shrieks in pain as it escapes your blockade, and you can't help but smile at its suffering.

But the shriek doesn't end… And for some reason that low crooning from before is still going on. Your vision becomes nothing but a hazy mist now, and you can't see the cavern. The sound of the Oni is everything, filling your mind such that there is no room left for anything else. The world is fading, falling apart… All that you see blurry as your eyes are forced close beneath a sudden, powerful weariness that suffuses your entire being.

So… dizzy… You cannot… keep…

o\O/o
​

You awake to the sound of thousands cheering, and to the bone deep exhaustion and pain that suffuses your body. You can't move very well for some reason, not that you would want to. You're too weak and it drains so much energy. Consciousness returns slowly, muddled by all the agony you have undergone these last few years.

Years? you think. What? What is…

But yes, it has been years now. Years since the Crab failed, and the forces of Jigoku overtook all of Rokugan. The Emerald Empire has been soaked in blood and the Clans shattered beneath the war machine of hell itself. It has been years since you were captured and beaten every day, all your fire drawn out. All you have left are flickering embers, waiting to be quenched with even the slightest effort.

Naturally, you had resisted at first. You had cursed your captors and screamed your defiance. But they had only laughed at you, and then came the pain. Hooks and lashes and hot pokers and ropes… The memory makes you weep. They hurt you. They hurt you so badly. Men and Goblins and Oni worked their foul tortures upon you until there was nothing left, just a husk frightened of every shadow.

Because the shadows will bring pain, and with the fading light shadows are everywhere now.

You sit kneeling upon a stage crafted from wood, stone and bones before a vast crowd of cheering people. They are heavily Tainted, mutations corrupting their bodies utterly. Behind them are the hulking forms of monsters, Oni looming above them all in the varied shapes. They cheer the loudest, their voices booming over everyone else.

The oddest thing is that they are all wearing fine clothing and armor, like you would see on noble Samurai. Oh, they are corrupted with foul imagery, skulls and spiders being most prominent, but it is of fine make none-the-less. It is a circus of monstrosity, a foul mirror to a culture you are so familiar with. These vile creatures hold themselves like lords and ladies of court, for all that they are a blasphemy against everything good and holy.

You are bound in chains, though there is little point to them. The muscles that you have always been so proud of have atrophied beneath almost a decade of abuse and neglect, leaving you a pitiful wretch compared to what you used to be. You were strong, once. Those days are long since passed. Even if you were free, what fight could you give your foes? What would be the point? It would only bring more torment.

The recollection of the man you had once been, the Samurai you used to be… Had you been dreaming while you were unconscious? You recall charging into battle, of fighting terrible foes for glory and honor. Were you thinking of the old days, back when you had so dutifully served the Crab? Were all those memories just the dredged up remnants of when you used to mean something?

You don't mean anything any more, you think to yourself, bowing your head. You're nothing now… You lost. You lost and the Empire died.

"My loyal subjects!" a voice cries. You look up. Kyosuke is there, addressing the crowd. He wears the crown of Emperor atop his brow, though his face is still covered by a mask. "We have fought a grand, just war against those fools who would call themselves righteous! We have claimed our long deserved victory against the tyranny of Heaven! We have fulfilled the glorious vision of Lord Daigotsu-sama himself! Be proud of what you have accomplished! Be proud, for you are champions to the power that will dominate this entire world!"

The crowd roars again at Kyosuke's words, and the man seems to exult in them. He opens his arms wide, encouraging more. The crowd gives it to him, and you hear him laughing a little in appreciation.

"But," he continues once the clamor dies down. "There are those pitiful wretches who would still fight against us!" He waves a hand to you. "Some we have already dealt with and given their due punishment. But there are others still who must be shown the error of their ways."

A hulking ogre pulls up a string of people chained together. They are clad in the tattered remnants of armor, blood still pouring from wounds. They must have been freshly captured, then. There were still small pockets of resistance left within Rokugan, though they were fading all the time.

Fools, you think wearily, closing your eyes. You are so tired, too tired to care anymore. There's no fighting this. Not now.

"I'll kill you, you evil filth!" a woman cries. The voice is familiar… "I'll kill you for what you've done to my son! For what you've done to my husband! I'll see your blood on the ground!"

You open your eyes. Your mother is there in the line of prisoners. She is cursing and kicking, fighting every step of the way. She's holding up the whole line, making the ogre have to work for every step out of her. Your father is right behind her, but he doesn't seem to be moving properly. He's bleeding heavily from his head, and just seems to stare out at nothing through blurry eyes. When pulled, he simply shuffles forward slowly.

Finally, the ogre has enough of your mother's trouble making. It pulls a club from its belt and approaches your mother, its intention obvious. Your mother does not back down, snarling at the ogre and looking ready to fight for all that she was bound and helpless. It's a futile gesture, though, just one last defiance before she is brutally, horribly killed.

"No!" you scream, moving forward as much as you can. "No, please! Spare them! Please spare them!"

Kyosuke looks at you, and you can almost see him sneering beneath his mask. He looks down at you like you are nothing but filth. He's visited you a few times before as you were tortured, to revel in your breaking. He doesn't seem amused now. If anything, he appears annoyed that you've even shown enough energy to beg.

"Please," you whimper, bowing your head low. A small blossom of shame burns in your heart, a tiny remnant of the pride you used to hold. You squelch it down. "I implore you. Please do not kill them."

"I am not without mercy," Kyosuke replies. He turns halfway to the crowd, extending an arm. "Let it never be said that the ruler of this world is heartless. For one who was once an honored foe, I can be persuaded to show leniency." He turns back to you. "Choose, broken wretch. Choose which is to die. I will allow the other to live."

[] Choose your mother.
[] Choose your father.
[] Write in.

 

[Winged Knight]

[x] Gman


You know as soon as Kyosuke finishes speaking that he'll kill you all. It might not be now, it might not even be tomorrow, but you and your family are already dead. He will break you down as much as he can, and then he will slip the blade into your heart. This Tainted monster does not know the meaning of honor, will go back on any agreement. He is harsh and cruel and terrible.

You know this all too well. The scars on your body ache beneath Kyosuke's gaze. This man… This man is but a demon in human flesh, a crude seeming to hide the utter foulness that rests beneath his skin. There can be no deal made with him. You cannot agree to his terms.

But what do I do, then? you ask yourself. I'm so tired…

You cannot save them, no matter what happens both are doomed as are you. So what else is left but to go on to the next life? How many times have you broken? How many times have you just wanted it to end?

A single fire against the darkness always burns brighter.

You remember the motto of your long dead family, broken beneath hell's war machine. A single fire… Fire. The fires of battle, perhaps?

You force yourself to focus, to clear your mind of the ever-pervasive weight that despair has rested upon your shoulders. The answer comes to you then, as you will yourself into something resembling the man you once were. It is at that moment that you realize just what you need to do in order to perish with some dignity, and allow your parents to escape the fate you have suffered all these long years.
You will die, but you will do so on your own terms.

"I choose neither," you answer, making yourself stand up. Your legs are weak, but they manage to hold you. "For I know our fate well. Rather, I ask of you to grant us the boon of dying in battle against some of yours. Come now, let us put on a show for the masses and let them see the last light of the Emerald Empire die!"

The crowd roars at your words, a tumultuous applause. You've appealed to their desire for blood and violence. The idea of a combat to the death, even one so weak and broken as yourself, has riled the assembled abominations into a furor. They wish to see you die, and they wouldn't mind if you put on a show in doing so.

Kyosuke, however, doesn't seem to be pleased by your declaration. In fact, you'd almost say he appeared confused if you could see past his mask. Obviously he believed you to be so cowed that you would agree without issue to his impossible choice. By making your offer you've done something he did not expect.

The confusion bleeds away into rage, obvious in his posture as he unsheathes his sword. His eyes glow red, and a crimson energy surrounds his body like a haze of blood. You thought you might be able to appeal to his vanity with your counter-offer, but all you've done is spark the man's ire.

"I gave you a choice out of mercy," Kyosuke growled. "And you decide to bargain with me? You overstep yourself, boy! I am the one who is ruler here! You live or die by my command." He raises the sword high. "And I say it is time for you to die!"

You close your eyes as Kyosuke steps toward you. This is it, then. You have reached the end of your life. You can hear your mother screaming, trying to reach you, but your eyes remain closed. You are so, so tired. You have fought and bled for so many years now, seen the destruction of all you love.

There is only so much pain a person can take in their life. No one can continue on forever in the face of unending agony. But now is coming the long sleep, a time where your spirit can fly free of your earthly tethers and achieve peace. Death will release you from your failures, remove you from all the suffering and death you have been forced to endure.

It is time to lay down your burden.

Is this the end, then?

Your eyes start open at the voice in your head. It is a man's voice, so much like your own. But it is deeper, from someone older than you are. It is the voice you might have had, if life had gone a different path. If perhaps you had not failed so completely…

I will not die here! the voice roars from within you. I will not bow beneath the depredations of evil!

You want to rage at the voice, to squelch it down. But the voice is so strong, stronger than you would ever have thought possible. It rebuffs your attempts to silence it, and remarkably you can even feel that strength flooding into your limbs.

It is as if there is another presence within you, something that is you but also distinctly separate. This presence is giving you vitality you've not felt in almost a decade… No, it is even greater strength. You have never been so powerful as you feel now.

To lay down and die is the pinnacle of dishonor, and dishonor is worse than death! the voice bellows. My fury destroys all who would threaten the realms of men! My power breaks all foes beneath my gaze! I am unbowed and unbroken!

The world starts to warp and shift around you, as if becoming less solid. Faces begin to melt away, and the sky bleeds into the land. It is as if reality has become a dream, distorted and strange, and you are beginning to awaken. The voice in your head… is it the one doing this?

I burn like the sun! the voice cries out. Like the sun!

"Like the sun…" you whisper, and you feel the presence within you merge completely with your being. The world warps even more, shapes and colors mixing together grotesquely. "LIKE THE SUUUUUUUUUUUN!"

Reality shatters around you, the dream breaking apart beneath the force of your cry. You find yourself within an expansive cave that reeks of blood. The cavern is well lit, with hardly any shadows surviving beneath the glare of something intensely bright. You cannot tell the source of this illumination, however. It takes you a few moments to realize that it comes from yourself.

You burn.

There is something foul and unnatural here, a monster from another realm. There is a man on its back, clad in robes. He is striking the monster with his fists, trying to hurt it. A giant fights with the monster from the front, trying to strike it with a massive sword. Neither of the two seem to be having much luck against the creature, which is cutting into the giant with sharpened talons.

You burn.

You can barely comprehend any of this, though. You can barely comprehend anything. Thought is so hard to hold on to. Your mind, all that you are, is like a rock barely holding out against the flood within you. All that you know is that you burn, a power bursting inside of you with such strength that your it takes all that you have to keep from being pulled into oblivion.

You burn.

[] Kill the Oni.
[] Write in.

 

[Winged Knight]

[x] Kill the Oni.

Attack Roll: 10k5+2=62
Damage Roll: 10k3+10=36


The ugly, insectoid thing making so much noise… You know this creature. It is something that does not belong. This is a realm for mortals, and this monster is something from a place far different and more corrupt. Its very presence brings the touch of its home realm into this world, fouling the ground and polluting the air. Its existence is an affront.

This cannot stand.

You walk forward, and out of the corner of your eye see a woman kneeling down. She is clawing at her face, lines of blood drawn from where it seems she has been trying to rip out her own eyes. Tears are flowing down her face, and a rasping sound comes from her throat. She appears to have been screaming till her voice gave out.

You recognize her, though you cannot seem to recall from where. Within the depths of the fire that has replaced your thoughts, you remember that you have felt affection for this woman. She is important to you… But that feeling is distant. You have only one purpose now, to destroy the foe that taints this world. Everything else is secondary.

Still, the light from fire covering your body seems to pull the woman out of her trance. Her eyes regain focus, and she pulls her hands away from her face. She falls to the ground, shaking and weeping before curling up into a ball.

"Let it be a lie," she whispers, her voice hoarse. "Please. I… I could not be that terrible."

She looks up and sees you, and the flow of her tears increases. She reaches out for you, but recoils at the heat coming from your body. You burn, for you are fire. Fire does not discriminate. Fire only purifies and destroys. It is only natural that one could not grasp it with their bare hands.

"So… Sosuke? Are you... Are you real?" she asks. "Oh, by the Heavens! Sosuke, please forgive me! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I… I would never do that! Not to you! Please, please believe me!"

You hear her words, but they hold no meaning to you. You know not why she is crying, why she seems so desperate for your forgiveness. You also do not care. There is only one thing on your mind, only one thought that makes it through the inferno that flows out from every fiber of your being.

The monster from another realm must be vanquished.

You walk forward, weapon in hand. It, too, is on fire. But this tool is a part of you, so the flames do not consume the wood nor blacken the metal, at least for now. The power bursting forth from within you is difficult to direct, and it takes all your focus to keep it from engulfing you. It desires an outlet, desires release. You know with certainty if you hold it back for too long, you will be destroyed.

"Sosuke-sama!" the robed man calls out from atop the creature you must kill. "Sosuke-sama, are you-"

He is interrupted as the monster slams its back, and thus the man, into the wall. The robed man screams in pain, rocks digging deeply into his flesh. He slides down the wall leaving a trail of blood behind, obviously dazed.

"Care more for your own safety, serpent child," the creature taunts before lashing out at the giant. Its talons cut the giant's flesh deeply, sending him reeling back with a growl. "Away with you, beast! I must observe this latest development!"

The creature scuttles toward you on too many legs, filling the chamber with a clacking sound even as you approach the monster. In the meantime, you have not ceased your own approach. The monster rears up and looks at you with six pairs of eyes. Each face looks inquisitive, gazing down at you with frank curiosity. From what little you can determine, it seems confused.

"What are you?" the otherworldly thing whispers. "I am Kohsa no Oni, and there is no secret held within the grasp of mortals that I cannot pry loose. But I do not know you… How-"

The abomination's words cut off as you slam your weapon into one of its faces, pulping it utterly. The remaining faces scream as fire races up the insect like body, burning great chunks of it and sending chitinous chips flying in all directions. The monster launches itself away from you, combining its own strength with the momentum of your blow. It lands some distance away, claws reaching up toward its ruined face.

But despite the distance gained, the fires continue to eat away at the monster's body. It shifts and tries to extinguish the flames by rolling across the ground, but it is no use. The fires resist fading, cling tenaciously to the vile thing's form. The creature's already dark carapace blackens utterly beneath the heat, scorching into a brittle mess that sends its blood flowing across the ground.

"Kohsa-sama!" it screeches through the agony of the flames. "Make haste! Should you ever desire to see your children again, you must complete the ritual! Hurry, while I am still able to protect you!"

"Yes," says an old man by the pool of blood within the center of the cavern. Blood is pooling from his mouth, and he clutches his chest in obvious pain. His eyes are unfocussed. Within your distant thoughts, you believe the man is delirious. "Yes, I… I understand. I have to… For Michiko… For Taru… Continue... I must… Continue."

He draws a knife from his robes and unsheathes it, and holds out one of his arms.

[] Write in. Anything other than attacking the Oni will require a Will Roll.

 

[Winged Knight]

[x] Woman. If you are sorry, then kill the man named Kohsa.
[x] Continue to pulp the shit out of the Oni.

Will Roll: 7d10=52
Strength Roll: 6d10=51
Attack Roll: 10k5+2=28
Damage Roll: 10k3+10=54


The old man… He is responsible for the presence of the corrupted abomination that offends the sensibilities of this realm. He brought it here, and now he is doing something else. His power lies within the blood, and he is about to spill more of it. Within the depths of your mind, so overwhelmed with the power coursing through your body, you know this must be prevented.

But you still must deal with the creature. It is getting back up now, preparing to attack again. Its shell was cracked and scorched, and one of its faces was completely destroyed, but taking your attention away from it could be deadly. You have to kill this monster now. Its presence cannot be abided.

Even more, the fire that bubbles up from within you needs to be released. Pain is growing inside of you, an agony that only increases the longer the power is left idle. You have to exert it, direct it at something other than yourself, lest you be consumed by the inferno that even now bleeds outside of your body.

What, then, can you do? You have to confront the abomination, but at the same time the old man has to be stopped. You cannot be in two places at once, so how can you rectify this dilemma?

A thought comes, forcing its way through the maelstrom that is your mind.

"Woman," you say in a voice that seems unrecognizable to you. "If you are truly sorry, then go kill the man Kohsa. He is-"

The monster rears up and unleashes a loud, discordant shriek that made the very air rippled beneath its force. The ground cracks and splinters as a wall of solid noise hits you dead on, but you pay it no heed. Your attention is focused back on the foul one now, and you step forward even as the woman screams as she is sent flying back before the power the creature has unleashed.

You take one step, then another. It is as if the air itself is trying to force you back, but you press on. You do not stumble, nor do you fall back. You only move onward, weapon held ready to deliver another strike to this unnatural thing that has invaded a world where it does not belong.

But while the shrieking barrier does not harm you, it does slow you down. You would rush at this monster and bring its destruction, but the most you can do is simply walk forward. You feel the faintest glimmers of aggravation at the delay, though it is buried beneath the inhuman focus that dominates your consciousness. If only…

The giant charges up from behind the monster and slams the creature's faces into the floor, stopping the sound. The insectoid demon struggles against the giant's grip, but the behemoth is too strong. Even wounded from at least half a dozen injuries, his blood pouring like rivers to fall upon the ground, he manages to hold firm. His muscles bulge as he holds the monster in place, preventing it from further interfering with you.

"Now, Samurai!" the giant bellows. "End the demon now!"

You do not need encouragement. You rush forward, a trail of flames streaming behind you, and slam your weapon into the abomination's side. Fire explodes out from the point of impact, a heat so great the giant is forced to let go and step back to avoid being burned. The demon screams as the strike sending it flying to the side, fire engulfing more of its form and spraying chunks of chitin everywhere.

It lands with a crunch, flames racing across its body and breaking apart its shell. Blood pools out, sizzling across the rock, and the demon thrashes where it lay. Soon enough the thrashing ceases, and the beast merely twitches in place. Then, finally, it is still.

A scream fills the cavern, drawing your attention back to the pool of blood. The old man, Kohsa, stands above it with blood pooling from his outstretched arm. He has gripped that arm with his other hand, struggling as if trying to pull it back. An unseen force holds him firm, however, and the best he does is scrabble uselessly against the ground.

"What is this?" Kohsa shrieks. "This is… this is not what you promised, Oni! What… What…"

His words die as his skin shrivels up, his body drying out. He screams again, the pitch rising into something terrible and inhuman before finally cutting off as the man's body fades into dust that falls into the pool of blood. The pool, meanwhile, swirls as if caught in a vortex. It seems to lead into a gaping pit that went down into crimson darkness, a terrible abyss that opens up into a place of nightmares and horrors beyond imagining.

You've little tome to think on that, however. The pain lancing through your body increases, pushing through even your deadened thoughts and driving you to your knees. The power is killing you… That much is obvious now. If you do not push the fire back, keep it from flowing out without control, then you will be consumed utterly.

You burn, and you are dying.


[] Focus your thoughts and force yourself to contain the fire. (Roll Willpower)
[] Write in.