The public won't know but all the Daimyo will if only because komei or someone in his court will spread rumors to weaken the shogun's power.
Steel and Ambition: No SV, Just Building the Guns Won't Make for a Successful Business. You Need More!
- Thread starter Magoose
- Start date
- Historic
The public won't know but all the Daimyo will if only because komei or someone in his court will spread rumors to weaken the shogun's power.
We shouldn't risk going closer to Edo, even just a bit considering Eastern lands are more Shogun alligned. Iga is part of the Tsu domain and the daimyo is an opportunist. We can't stay in Kyoto because it is a shogunal city, same with Nagasaki and Osaka. The Satcho capitals of Kagoshima and Shimonoseki gets bombarded. Among the western ports, that only leaves Hiroshima
[X]Plan: Journey to the West (Japan)
-[X]Head West to Hiroshima
-[X]The Sisters You Love: Miriko and Makoto both need to be talked to. You want to know how they feel.
-[X] The Promises: You want to find outfit your father had any allies. Anyone at all who could help you who owe him. Even when he was dead.
-[X]The Silent Blade: Rumors whisper of a masterless swordsman who hires himself out for causes he believes in. Maybe you can convince him to fight for you.
[X]Plan: Journey to the West (Japan)
-[X]Head West to Hiroshima
-[X]The Sisters You Love: Miriko and Makoto both need to be talked to. You want to know how they feel.
-[X] The Promises: You want to find outfit your father had any allies. Anyone at all who could help you who owe him. Even when he was dead.
-[X]The Silent Blade: Rumors whisper of a masterless swordsman who hires himself out for causes he believes in. Maybe you can convince him to fight for you.
[X]Plan: Journey to the West (Japan)
[X] Plan: uhhh, IDK: High_Admiral
[X] Plan: uhhh, IDK: High_Admiral
- Pronouns
- He/his/him
[X]Plan: Journey to the West (Japan)
- Pronouns
- He
[X]Plan: Journey to the West (Japan)
birdmaster01
Big Tech's Strongest Soldier
[X] Plan: uhhh, IDK: High_Admiral
[X] Plan: uhhh, IDK: High_Admiral
Duke William of
I really need to finish my quests. :V
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X]Plan: Journey to the West (Japan)
Ahh-wait that's an interesting idea...
To build a house on a hill top with a flowing river below, where fish of large proportions swim in, and where the family adopts a baby with spiky black hair and monkey tail..
[X]Plan: Journey to the West (Japan)
[X]Plan: Journey to the West (Japan)
- Location
- United States
Is hiroshima a good place to settle down right now? What are the views of the people living there, especially the nobility?
Vote closed
New
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
Turn 4 Results
New
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
Turn 4 Results:
-[x]The Sisters You Love: Miriko and Makoto both need to be talked to. You want to know how they feel. Rolled:D20 => 17
The inn had become your home, if only for now. It was nothing special—just a place where the walls were thin, the floors creaked, and the scent of old tatami and burning oil lamps lingered in the air. A few mon across the table had been enough to secure a quiet room, away from prying eyes and eager ears.
Yet quiet did not mean safe.
Even here, where the only sounds were the hushed whispers from neighboring rooms and the distant murmur of the city outside, the fear of the Emperor's spies and the Shogun's enforcers loomed over you like a specter.
But none of that could be helped. You had to speak to them. You had to decide what must be done.
Miriko sat by the window, her gaze following the slow-moving figures outside—merchants hauling their wares, samurai marching with rigid discipline, peasants guiding their beasts through the crowded streets. She watched them all, silent and pensive, her small hands curled in her lap.
Makoto, by contrast, had exhausted herself from weeping. She lay curled on the futon, her shoulders rising and falling with uneven breaths, eyes red-rimmed from grief and fatigue.
You looked at them both, and for a fleeting moment, the weight of it all threatened to crush you. But you couldn't show it.
They needed you to be strong.
"Come here," you said, your voice firm but not unkind.
Miriko hesitated before stepping away from the window. Makoto sniffled, rubbing at her face as she pushed herself upright. Slowly, they sat across from you, close to one another, seeking comfort in their shared presence.
Their eyes, wide, uncertain, full of silent questions, searched your face as if you had an answer that was being said. You could see the fear in them. The exhaustion. The quiet, desperate hope that you might tell them everything would be alright.
But you couldn't.
"I won't say what you want to hear," you began, your voice steady despite the tightness in your throat. "You already know the truth. Mother and Father are never coming back. They are gone, and we will not see them again… not until it is our time to die."
Miriko swallowed hard. Makoto's lip trembled, but she said nothing.
"Whether that time comes tomorrow or a hundred years from now," you continued, "we will meet them again. But not yet."
Your fingers curled into fists beneath the table.
"Not yet. We have to live for their sake."
They had to understand. They had to stay focused. The world would not wait for their grief to pass, nor would it show them kindness because they were young. The lesson would be harsh, but time was not their ally.
Time was fleeting.
And Death was the only constant.
You took a slow breath, steadying yourself before speaking.
"So… we are going to leave," you said, letting the words settle. "We're going to find a place where we will be safe. A place where no one will look at us as pawns to be used or threats to be silenced. And there… we will continue Father's work."
Together.
Miriko's eyes flickered with uncertainty, but she nodded. She had always been the quieter of the two, the one who observed before she spoke. "But… what will we do?"
"You will help me," you answered without hesitation, because it was the only clear thing in your mind. "I need more hands. I can't do this alone."
Makoto shifted uncomfortably, her fingers tightening in her lap. "But we don't know how." she admitted, her voice small, laced with doubt.
"Then I will teach you." The words left your mouth with a weight you had not expected. inevitability.
They would not remain children forever. The world had taken too much from you already, and if they were to survive, if you were to survive, then you could no longer afford the luxury of ignorance.
You would teach them like your father did you, even if it was incomplete and would have to be learned on your own.
Because no one else would.
Reward: Your sisters are now by your side, and they offer a +3 to all workshop rolls. Once you have one.
But now you must spend one action teaching them for many years, so that they learn all that is needed to learn to assist you.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
-[x]The Silent Blade: Rumors whisper of a masterless swordsman who hires himself out for causes he believes in. Maybe you can convince him to fight for you. Rolled:D20 => 4
You oculd not see it, but you could feel it. The shade of something horrible coming your way, like a storm against the island.
You would not be able to run from it, to weather it, or defeat it.
You could only hope to survive it.
Failure: The hunt begins.
Every turn, you will need to survive a roll against you, as Shogunate and Imperial Forces realize what they have in their possession. As they seek to force you into their services.
A cunning mind, who can desperately learn, with the potential to recreate something that can help them change the country to their image. And adapt to a changing world.
And maybe even more.
-----------------------------------------------------
-[X] The Promises: You want to find out if your father had any allies. Anyone at all who could help you who owe him. Even when he was dead. Rolled:D20 => 19
-[X] Head East, to Iga Rolled:D20 => 3
Event roll:D20 => 18
The road east stretched long before you, a winding path through the mist-laden countryside. The forests of Iga lay ahead, their shadows deep and uncertain, a promise of both refuge and peril. Yet, as you walked, leading your sisters through the thinning underbrush, a creeping sensation prickled at the back of your neck.
You were being followed.
By what, or by whom, you did not yet know.
But instinct told you that to run was futile. To flee into the unknown would only expose your weakness. No, if this was a hunt, then you had already been caught in its snare.
All you could do was stand. And wait.
-------------------------------------------------------
The figures emerged from the trees like ghosts, their movements purposeful but unhurried. Leading them was a man clad in a simple traveler's robe, the wide brim of his straw hat casting a shadow over his face. Yet your eyes did not linger on his features, no, they were drawn to what hung at his side.
A sword.
A samurai sword.
A weapon carried by the very same class of men who had torn your family apart, who had reduced your home to cinders and left you wandering like a stray dog.
Your breath tightened in your chest, fingers twitching toward anything, even willing to use the bag of money as a club.
But than he raised his hand, in peace.
He was not one of them.
The man dismounted his horse with practiced ease, dust swirling at his feet. The others followed, stepping into the clearing, their hands near their weapons but not yet reaching for them. He studied you, and when he spoke, his voice was neither hostile nor cruel.
"We finally found you."
You said nothing. The words meant little. Found you, for what? For execution? For recruitment? You did not yet know if you should fight, flee, or listen.
The man took a step closer, then another, until he knelt before you, the straw hat tilting back just enough for you to see the sharp intelligence in his eyes.
"Sakumo said you would survive," he murmured, watching your face for a reaction. "He sent word to me. But we were too late to save him. Then again, he always was one for the sacrifice."
A pause.
Regret flickered through his expression, but only for a moment. Then, his lips curled into the ghost of a smile.
"It seems that fate, at least, is on my side."
And then, as if introducing himself to an equal rather than a lost child, he bowed his head slightly.
"My name is Sakamoto Ryōma."
You narrowed your eyes. "Who?"
That made him laugh, a deep, hearty sound, as if your ignorance was something amusing rather than insulting. It was the kind of laughter that put men at ease, the kind that suggested he was more rogue than noble.
"I knew he wouldn't have told you about me, or you remember me," Ryōma said, shaking his head. "But we met when you were young when you were just a baby, back when he was working for a friend of mine. A long time ago… he took a commission for my father."
You said nothing. You had no reason to trust him, no reason to believe that this man was anything but another wolf in disguise.
A moment of silence passed between you.
Then, as if sensing your doubt, he reached into his robe.
"You might not believe me," he said, his voice quieter now, more measured, "but let me show you something that may assuage your fears."
He pulled out a small piece of steel, no larger than a coin, and held it out for you to see. Even before you leaned in, you recognized the engraving.
A cherry blossom, delicately etched. A crossed sword beneath it.
Your father's mark.
A token of his craftsmanship, a seal of quality that few men had ever been privileged to carry.
Any merchant or thief could have stolen it. Any smith worth his tools could have copied it. That was the nature of trade, brands could be replicated, signatures forged or reforged.
But what made you pause… was far more telling.
Your father placed that mark on everything he forged, every blade, every gun, every piece of armor he had ever crafted.
Every piece, except one.
The Henry rifle you helped him reproduce.
Because he had never found the time to carve that little mark into the barrel. But he did make something that he sent elsewhere? Was that it?
And if this man knew that… then perhaps he was telling the truth. "Did you see it on the weapon he had?" You asked.
"What Weapon?" He was genuinely curious about the words, but it wasn't enough to make you lower your guard. "Because unless I'm mistaken, he never used anything other than a matchlock…"
He paused. "Unless the stories are true." Then he took a breath. "Choose a good way to die."
"I don't think anyone wants to die like that." You replied.
Your sisters trembled behind you. "Perhaps." He replied. "But I know you are traveling East. That is dangerous."
"And it is for you as well," a voice from beyond the woodline spoke, as several men walked out, armed, a few with guns.
"It appears we are at an impasse," Sakamoto said, as he put his hand on his blade. "The boy will come with me."
"He will not." The man replied as his men took aim.
You looked at the matchlocks and realized one thing. The matches were out. They were unloaded. It was a bluff. They were just as useful as clubs.
You didn't know who to trust here.
But what you did know was that you were here, and people wanted you for their own purposes.
It felt like everywhere you went, people wanted to kill you. Or hunt you, or take you.
What do you choose?:
[]Side with Sakamoto: "Get down!" You pushed your sisters down to the ground, and he began his bloody work.
[]Stop the violence: "Stop!" You shouted. "I'll go with you, just don't hurt him!"
[]Run Away: You grabbed your sisters and money, and ran as behind you became a symphony of violence.
AN: Magoose dice decided that they need more drama in the main plotline.
-[x]The Sisters You Love: Miriko and Makoto both need to be talked to. You want to know how they feel. Rolled:D20 => 17
The inn had become your home, if only for now. It was nothing special—just a place where the walls were thin, the floors creaked, and the scent of old tatami and burning oil lamps lingered in the air. A few mon across the table had been enough to secure a quiet room, away from prying eyes and eager ears.
Yet quiet did not mean safe.
Even here, where the only sounds were the hushed whispers from neighboring rooms and the distant murmur of the city outside, the fear of the Emperor's spies and the Shogun's enforcers loomed over you like a specter.
But none of that could be helped. You had to speak to them. You had to decide what must be done.
Miriko sat by the window, her gaze following the slow-moving figures outside—merchants hauling their wares, samurai marching with rigid discipline, peasants guiding their beasts through the crowded streets. She watched them all, silent and pensive, her small hands curled in her lap.
Makoto, by contrast, had exhausted herself from weeping. She lay curled on the futon, her shoulders rising and falling with uneven breaths, eyes red-rimmed from grief and fatigue.
You looked at them both, and for a fleeting moment, the weight of it all threatened to crush you. But you couldn't show it.
They needed you to be strong.
"Come here," you said, your voice firm but not unkind.
Miriko hesitated before stepping away from the window. Makoto sniffled, rubbing at her face as she pushed herself upright. Slowly, they sat across from you, close to one another, seeking comfort in their shared presence.
Their eyes, wide, uncertain, full of silent questions, searched your face as if you had an answer that was being said. You could see the fear in them. The exhaustion. The quiet, desperate hope that you might tell them everything would be alright.
But you couldn't.
"I won't say what you want to hear," you began, your voice steady despite the tightness in your throat. "You already know the truth. Mother and Father are never coming back. They are gone, and we will not see them again… not until it is our time to die."
Miriko swallowed hard. Makoto's lip trembled, but she said nothing.
"Whether that time comes tomorrow or a hundred years from now," you continued, "we will meet them again. But not yet."
Your fingers curled into fists beneath the table.
"Not yet. We have to live for their sake."
They had to understand. They had to stay focused. The world would not wait for their grief to pass, nor would it show them kindness because they were young. The lesson would be harsh, but time was not their ally.
Time was fleeting.
And Death was the only constant.
You took a slow breath, steadying yourself before speaking.
"So… we are going to leave," you said, letting the words settle. "We're going to find a place where we will be safe. A place where no one will look at us as pawns to be used or threats to be silenced. And there… we will continue Father's work."
Together.
Miriko's eyes flickered with uncertainty, but she nodded. She had always been the quieter of the two, the one who observed before she spoke. "But… what will we do?"
"You will help me," you answered without hesitation, because it was the only clear thing in your mind. "I need more hands. I can't do this alone."
Makoto shifted uncomfortably, her fingers tightening in her lap. "But we don't know how." she admitted, her voice small, laced with doubt.
"Then I will teach you." The words left your mouth with a weight you had not expected. inevitability.
They would not remain children forever. The world had taken too much from you already, and if they were to survive, if you were to survive, then you could no longer afford the luxury of ignorance.
You would teach them like your father did you, even if it was incomplete and would have to be learned on your own.
Because no one else would.
Reward: Your sisters are now by your side, and they offer a +3 to all workshop rolls. Once you have one.
But now you must spend one action teaching them for many years, so that they learn all that is needed to learn to assist you.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
-[x]The Silent Blade: Rumors whisper of a masterless swordsman who hires himself out for causes he believes in. Maybe you can convince him to fight for you. Rolled:D20 => 4
You oculd not see it, but you could feel it. The shade of something horrible coming your way, like a storm against the island.
You would not be able to run from it, to weather it, or defeat it.
You could only hope to survive it.
Failure: The hunt begins.
Every turn, you will need to survive a roll against you, as Shogunate and Imperial Forces realize what they have in their possession. As they seek to force you into their services.
A cunning mind, who can desperately learn, with the potential to recreate something that can help them change the country to their image. And adapt to a changing world.
And maybe even more.
-----------------------------------------------------
-[X] The Promises: You want to find out if your father had any allies. Anyone at all who could help you who owe him. Even when he was dead. Rolled:D20 => 19
-[X] Head East, to Iga Rolled:D20 => 3
Event roll:D20 => 18
The road east stretched long before you, a winding path through the mist-laden countryside. The forests of Iga lay ahead, their shadows deep and uncertain, a promise of both refuge and peril. Yet, as you walked, leading your sisters through the thinning underbrush, a creeping sensation prickled at the back of your neck.
You were being followed.
By what, or by whom, you did not yet know.
But instinct told you that to run was futile. To flee into the unknown would only expose your weakness. No, if this was a hunt, then you had already been caught in its snare.
All you could do was stand. And wait.
-------------------------------------------------------
The figures emerged from the trees like ghosts, their movements purposeful but unhurried. Leading them was a man clad in a simple traveler's robe, the wide brim of his straw hat casting a shadow over his face. Yet your eyes did not linger on his features, no, they were drawn to what hung at his side.
A sword.
A samurai sword.
A weapon carried by the very same class of men who had torn your family apart, who had reduced your home to cinders and left you wandering like a stray dog.
Your breath tightened in your chest, fingers twitching toward anything, even willing to use the bag of money as a club.
But than he raised his hand, in peace.
He was not one of them.
The man dismounted his horse with practiced ease, dust swirling at his feet. The others followed, stepping into the clearing, their hands near their weapons but not yet reaching for them. He studied you, and when he spoke, his voice was neither hostile nor cruel.
"We finally found you."
You said nothing. The words meant little. Found you, for what? For execution? For recruitment? You did not yet know if you should fight, flee, or listen.
The man took a step closer, then another, until he knelt before you, the straw hat tilting back just enough for you to see the sharp intelligence in his eyes.
"Sakumo said you would survive," he murmured, watching your face for a reaction. "He sent word to me. But we were too late to save him. Then again, he always was one for the sacrifice."
A pause.
Regret flickered through his expression, but only for a moment. Then, his lips curled into the ghost of a smile.
"It seems that fate, at least, is on my side."
And then, as if introducing himself to an equal rather than a lost child, he bowed his head slightly.
"My name is Sakamoto Ryōma."
You narrowed your eyes. "Who?"
That made him laugh, a deep, hearty sound, as if your ignorance was something amusing rather than insulting. It was the kind of laughter that put men at ease, the kind that suggested he was more rogue than noble.
"I knew he wouldn't have told you about me, or you remember me," Ryōma said, shaking his head. "But we met when you were young when you were just a baby, back when he was working for a friend of mine. A long time ago… he took a commission for my father."
You said nothing. You had no reason to trust him, no reason to believe that this man was anything but another wolf in disguise.
A moment of silence passed between you.
Then, as if sensing your doubt, he reached into his robe.
"You might not believe me," he said, his voice quieter now, more measured, "but let me show you something that may assuage your fears."
He pulled out a small piece of steel, no larger than a coin, and held it out for you to see. Even before you leaned in, you recognized the engraving.
A cherry blossom, delicately etched. A crossed sword beneath it.
Your father's mark.
A token of his craftsmanship, a seal of quality that few men had ever been privileged to carry.
Any merchant or thief could have stolen it. Any smith worth his tools could have copied it. That was the nature of trade, brands could be replicated, signatures forged or reforged.
But what made you pause… was far more telling.
Your father placed that mark on everything he forged, every blade, every gun, every piece of armor he had ever crafted.
Every piece, except one.
The Henry rifle you helped him reproduce.
Because he had never found the time to carve that little mark into the barrel. But he did make something that he sent elsewhere? Was that it?
And if this man knew that… then perhaps he was telling the truth. "Did you see it on the weapon he had?" You asked.
"What Weapon?" He was genuinely curious about the words, but it wasn't enough to make you lower your guard. "Because unless I'm mistaken, he never used anything other than a matchlock…"
He paused. "Unless the stories are true." Then he took a breath. "Choose a good way to die."
"I don't think anyone wants to die like that." You replied.
Your sisters trembled behind you. "Perhaps." He replied. "But I know you are traveling East. That is dangerous."
"And it is for you as well," a voice from beyond the woodline spoke, as several men walked out, armed, a few with guns.
"It appears we are at an impasse," Sakamoto said, as he put his hand on his blade. "The boy will come with me."
"He will not." The man replied as his men took aim.
You looked at the matchlocks and realized one thing. The matches were out. They were unloaded. It was a bluff. They were just as useful as clubs.
You didn't know who to trust here.
But what you did know was that you were here, and people wanted you for their own purposes.
It felt like everywhere you went, people wanted to kill you. Or hunt you, or take you.
What do you choose?:
[]Side with Sakamoto: "Get down!" You pushed your sisters down to the ground, and he began his bloody work.
[]Stop the violence: "Stop!" You shouted. "I'll go with you, just don't hurt him!"
[]Run Away: You grabbed your sisters and money, and ran as behind you became a symphony of violence.
AN: Magoose dice decided that they need more drama in the main plotline.
[X]Side with Sakamoto: "Get down!" You pushed your sisters down to the ground, and he began his bloody work.
It's time to end the Shogunate. Start the Sat-Cho Alliance baby!!!
It's time to end the Shogunate. Start the Sat-Cho Alliance baby!!!
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