you can now find the Q&A panel that AEG employees took part in during GenCon 2010 on the L5RChives website. We’d like to thank once again the audience (both in the room and online) for their questions during this event, and L5RChives for setting it up. We had a blast and hope you did as well.

If you were not in attendance, now is the time to catch up and discover what was discussed during those 3 hours.

The L5R Team

Scenes from the Empire

By Shawn Carman & Nancy Sauer

Edited by Fred Wan

            It was with a heavy heart and eyes dim from exhaustion that Miya Shoin, the Imperial Herald, entered the throne room of the Divine Empress. Two of his most trusted vassals followed closely behind, the satchel bags they carried heavy with scrolls. Shoin bowed low before his lord, his forehead nearly touching the floor. “Please forgive my tardiness, Divine One. It is completely inexcusable. I am greatly shamed by my discourtesy and failure.”

            The Voice of the Empress raised his hand. “The task set before you was enormous, Shoin-san,” his rich, baritone voice said. “The Empress is not displeased, and in any event a handful of minutes can scarcely be considered tardy in any real sense.”

            Shoin did not rise from his bow. “Regardless, mistress, it shall not happen again.”

            The silhouette of the Empress behind her screen nodded, and Shoin rose. “In accordance with your wishes, my lady, I have prepared a comprehensive list of those slain in the battle with the god-beast, from the moment of its first appearance though the battle at Ryoko Owari in which it was killed.”

            “An exhausting task, to be sure,” the Voice said. “That you have completed it so quickly is a great testament to your gifts. The Empress is grateful.”

            “It is my great honor to serve,” the Herald said sincerely. “I must warn you, however, that there are many bodies as yet unidentified, and many who are missing. This list is as complete as it can be at the moment, but may require extensive correction in the coming weeks.”

            “Of course,” the Voice said. “Please, continue.”

            Shoin nodded and took the first scroll. “You know the broad strokes of it already, I am sure. The beast was felled by a number of factors, the exact cause of death being a point of contention. The Phoenix report we heard some days ago involved the use of Void magic on a large scale, which I must confess is something I find quite confounding. Other reports from the front insist that the beast was whittled away exclusively by martial means, and succumbed to large scale trauma and blood loss. There was a report from one magistrate on the scene that there were wounds on the beast that appeared after its death but before its immolation, and believes that some other factor may be at play as well.”

            “There is no consensus regarding the demise, then?”

            “None whatsoever,” Shoin said. “The controversy has been heated in some areas.”

            “Unfortunate,” the Voice said. “What else?”

            “I must also regret to inform you that the southern front lost considerable ground during the beast’s incursion,” Shoin continued. “Our front lines were broken and the Destroyers did not hesitate to make use of such opportunity. The southern Scorpion lands are now hotly contested and the Destroyers’ presence in that region is significant indeed. The conclusion of the matter in Ryoko Owari has allowed the commanders to redirect their full attention to the southern border once more, but the general consensus is that the ground lost cannot and will not be easily reclaimed.”

            “What of the city?”

            “Ryoko Owari has suffered much of late,” Shoin said. “My reports on hand indicate that as much as a quarter of the city was destroyed or at least appreciably damaged during a fire of considerable size some weeks ago. That led to an easy incursion by a group of demon spawn created by the god-beast, which ran rampant through the nearly deserted streets, damaging anything in their path.” He shook his head. “Under ideal circumstances, estimates believe that the city cold be repaired completely of all damage within approximately six  months, but of course these are hardly ideal circumstances.”

            “Hardly,” the Voice agreed. “What of specific losses? Can you advise the Empress of any losses which she may know of personally? The Child of Heaven wishes to know the names of those lost, rather than simple numbers, although numbers are an essential place to begin.”

            “Of course,” Shoin said. “The present estimate of those forces lost exclusively in the conflict with the god-beast at slightly more than four thousand, half of whom were lost in the battle at Ryoko Owari. This is the single most expensive engagement in the southern conflict to date, although the total losses of that war are perhaps ten times the amount lost to the god-beast alone.”

            “It is the fear of the Empress that the losses of this war, compounded with so many losses over the past generation, are such that the Empire will be left populated exclusively by widows, widowers, and vastly too few children.”

            “The situation is indeed dire by all estimates,” Shoin agreed. “By the present estimate, the war will, in eighteen months time, have exhausted the samurai population of the Empire to the point that repopulating the ranks of your armies will take more than two decades at best.”

            “Dire,” the Voice said. “The term scarcely seems to cover the enormity of the situation.”

            Shoin forced a smile. “Beyond that, there were many, many deaths. My research, which I must warn you was extremely hasty, indicates only a handful of major deaths that involve individuals whom you may be familiar with.”

            The Empress bowed her head behind the screen, and the Voice nodded for the Herald to continue. “Two of your generals were wounded,” he said. “Utaku Yu-Pan’s left arm was severed below the elbow, but she should recover in some months’ time. Her shireikan Shinjo Dun has assumed command at her insistence, but her recovery should allow her to continue her service as a warrior and commander. Similarly, Akodo Shigetoshi lost an eye in the fighting, but has refused to retire from the battlefield. His attendant shugenja are treating the wound as best they can while he continues leading from the front as best he is able.”

            “Great and honorable vassals,” the Voice said. “The Empress is grateful for their service and honored by their dedication.”

            “Beyond that, there were few among the dead that I could immediately link to the Empress’ person,” Shoin said. “Among them, however, was Kitsuki Hakahime, a former vassal of the Divine One during her time as the Kitsuki family daimyo, and Yoritomo Ietsuna and Bayushi Utamuro, both of whom records indicate crossed the Empress’ path during her time as a magistrate.”

            “Rivals,” the Voice said. “Still, their passing is unfortunate, and they gave their lives for the Empire. They will be remembered as heroes.”

            Shoin bowed his head. “Of course.” He gestured to the scroll satchels of his two attendants. “I have the lists of the dead, if it is your wish to take them and peruse them at your leisure, my lady.”

            “No,” the Voice said. “The Empress wishes to hear the names of the fallen.”

            Shoin stared for a moment. “All of them, my lady? That would take… some time.”

            “The Empress has cleared her schedule for the remainder of the day,” the Voice said. “She has relegated the important tasks of the day to the Emerald Champion. It is important that the Empress hear the names of all who have given their lives for her, or so she firmly believes.”

            Shoin bowed deeply out of respect. “As you command, my lady. I will be honored to perform such a terrible task for you, if it will in some way assist you in enduring this terrible time of trial.”

            The Empress nodded, and the recitation began.

* * * * *

            The warrior crouched within the bushes, unmoving as stone. There was a distant buzzing that he dimly recognized as his legs screaming out in protest at his position, at the fact that he had not moved in more than three hours, but he had long since trained himself to ignore such things. Pain and discomfort were mere impediments, after all, and those with proper discipline could overcome them without great difficulty. Bayushi Keirei had spent decades conditioning his body as a weapon under his absolute control, and he knew that it would not betray him due to a bit of minor inconvenience. So he waited. Unfortunately, the screams of the dying were far more difficult to ignore than the pain from his cramping muscles.

            The village had been under assault when he had crept to the perimeter as he arrived at the village, seemingly days ago. He had carefully assessed the situation and immediately determined that there was no way for him to help the villagers. The horde of undead that descended upon the village was far too great for him to halt by himself, or even if he had a dozen others with the same training. If there had been two dozen perhaps, but no less than that could hope to end such a gruesome rampage. No less than five dozen of the abominations were swarming all over the village, killing everything in their path, consuming many who fell, and randomly destroying whatever obstacle presented itself. Their numbers were hard to judge because of the chaos; there might be as many as a hundred, possibly even more.

            Keirei did not look away as an old man was dragged from his hut and torn to pieces, screaming all the while. This was what he needed to see. He needed to let the hate build up in his chest. It made it so much easier to do what he needed to do. Keirei had never shirked from duty, not once in his long years of service, but this… this was different. This was damnation. And while he watched the horror, he remembered.

            A young man, one of promising station and ability, one whose parents called in many favors to ensure that he could fulfill his dream and train with the acrobats of the Kakita Artisan Academy. A young man who dreamed of becoming a sensation across the Empire, of performing in the greatest courts, perhaps even for the Emperor himself one day. It was a lofty dream, but one that everyone agreed was achievable. And he dared to believe that it was his destiny.

            Then the Scorpion Champion had seen him perform.

            It was Keirei’s greatest moment, and it had been the greatest performance of his life. Never had his physical abilities been in finer form. He believed that this was the stepping stone to the dreams he had embraced, that now the only thing he waited for was his impending gempukku, and then the world would be his. But that was not to be.

            The Champion had been duly impressed, and had dispatched one of his vassals, a man named Shosuro Toson, to speak with Keirei and his parents. There had been no option, really. An accident had been staged, and Keirei’s future as an acrobat had been erased. He then began his true training with Toson and his students, marrying the Shosuro techniques with his own gymnastic training, creating something altogether new and never before seen, even among the Scorpion. He had become a unique weapon, and when he finally underwent his gempukku and took the name Keirei, he was nothing more than a whisper, a shadow among the Scorpion, someone that no one in the Empire knew.

            And now, his duty was the one thing he had ever been asked that he was uncertain if he could perform. Toson had scarcely been able to speak the words, but his lady Miyako-sama had not wavered when she told him.

            “Find the thing that wears my husband’s flesh,” she said, “and destroy it.”

            There. Amid the sea of dead and dying, Keirei spied a familiar form. The ruin that had been visited upon it caused him tremendous pain, for a man as great as Bayushi Paneki did not deserve a wretched disgrace such as this. Despite that his dreams had been shattered, Keirei revered Paneki above all others, for what miserable life in the courts could have compared to the things he had seen and done? He owed his life to his lord, and he was prepared to sacrifice it if it would give the man some measure of peace.

            Keirei erupted into motion, exploding from the bushes with speed no human should possess. He vaulted over a trio of confused zombies and ran at full pace toward the distant figure of his former lord. He spun into a cartwheel, lashing out with foot and fist as he sailed through the air, sending fully half a dozen more scattered along the ground. He needed no weapons as he drew closer, disabling everything in his path. He needed no weapon because he was a weapon. Hands tore at his clothing, rotten fingertips brushing ever so slightly against the smooth skin of his shaven head; if he had kept his topknot, he would have been undone.

            Bayushi Keirei launched himself into the air, sailing over other undead, his foot extended to crush the skull of his former lord. He could see a faint intelligence in the thing’s eyes, and even as he was in the air he felt absolute horror and revulsion at the thing’s existence, and no small amount of fear. Did something remain? He dared not even contemplate the idea.

            Hands grabbed his clothing. A dozen or more of the things managed to seize him and halt his progress, stopping him in midair. Keirei swore violently. There had been no indication they were capable of such speed or thought. Was the dead lord influencing them somehow? He had that ability in life, to change the lives of those around him simply by his presence, his charisma. Keirei was thrown to the ground, and the zombie lord simply disappeared into the ranks of the undead.

            Paneki was gone. The undead closed in around him. Keirei was lost.

            No.

            The acrobat launched into a flurry of violent motion such as he had never unleashed before. He crushed and shattered bone and flesh with every movement. The way around him cleared, and he could see daylight once more. There was a fallen torii arch nearby, and he vaulted to the top of it. He used his hands to balance himself, swinging in a circle in a series of acrobatic movements, destroying any undead that came near him. A dozen threw themselves at him only to be destroyed, then a half dozen more. He continued, his movement never ceasing, the violence never relenting, until he could see a break in the ranks. He threw himself into a somersault and ran at full speed for the break, slaying to more of the creatures as they attempted to impede his exit. As he crossed the village’s boundary he saw the things lose interest and return to feasting on dead villagers.

            Bayushi Keirei was free.

            The mission was not yet ended.

* * * * *

Before the battle…

The sun poured its heat down on Ryoko Owari, filling the city’s streets with fetid, muggy air. Isawa Nakajima did not notice. He was standing in the midst of a crowd of heimin waiting with patience and barely-leashed terror to be let through the gate at the street’s end, but he did not notice them either. The shugenja’s attention was wholly taken up by the beast that was approaching from the south. He could see it, as those around him could, a lumbering presence just glimpsed over the top of the city walls. But Nakajima could feel it was well: the god-beast’s presence revolted the elements, and even at this distance the shugenja was aware of the earth kami’s dismay. Their emotions pressed in on him, leaving him faintly nauseous and struggling for breath.

            “What is taking so long?” he complained to Shiba Nobuyuki, his yojimbo. “The people in this crowd could walk, or even run, much faster than this.”

            Nobuyuki shook his head briefly. “More speed would trigger a panic, Nakajima-sama, and in the crush no one could get through. It is a very narrow gate here.”

            Nakajima’s answer was cut off before it began by a swell of noise from the crowd.  His gaze immediately went to the god-beast, and he saw that the thing had stopped and was surveying something in front of it. The armies of the south, the shugenja thought, and he silently said a prayer for the samurai who were about to die. The god-beast shifted its weight to one side and then seemed to smite the ground at its feet.  Nakajima frowned a moment in puzzlement over what the beast was trying to accomplish and then he staggered, as did the crowd around him, when the street they stood on shifted and buckled.  He staggered a second time, as the normally placid earth kami sprang into a rage over something only they could perceive. Nakajima focused all of his will on not throwing up, trying to soothe the kami in his vicinity. The crisis passed and Nakajima’s awareness of the normal world returned. Nobuyuki was discreetly holding him up, saving him from the filth of the road beneath their feet. Around him the crowd had grown noisier, with whispered speculations and prayers to the heavens mixed in with screams and cries of despair.

            “We must get away from here!” Nakajima said, shaking off Nobuyuki’s supporting arm. “There is something terrible happening.” The yojimbo’s only response was a lifted eyebrow. “An additional terrible thing,” the shugenja clarified. “The city must be cleared, quickly.” 

            Without a second thought Nakajima strode forward and started pushing his way through the crowd. “Let me through!” he said, “I must get to the gate.” 

            “We all need to get to the gate!” someone shouted back, and Nakajima staggered as someone else shoved him back. “Coward!” a peasant woman screamed, clutching an infant and a small child to her. Nakajima stared open-mouthed at the hatred he saw on the faces around him, as the fear that hung in the air began to crystalize into something far uglier.

            “MAKE WAY FOR A PRIEST OF THE ISAWA,” Nobuyuki bellowed out.  He muscled his way next to Nakajima. “A priest of the Isawa comes to confer with your leaders!  Make way!” The yojimbo stepped forward, making shooing motions with his arms.  “Make way for a priest of the Isawa!” he yelled again. “A priest of the Isawa comes to confer with your leaders!” The crowd began to part before him and he moved forward, Nakajima following in his yojimbo’s wake. 

            When they reached the gate the guard captain regarded them with weary respect.  “Greetings, Isawa-sama,” he said. “You and your yojimbo may go through the gate at once, of course.”

            “That is not why I am here,” Nakajima said. “I have come to warn you: some fresh evil has broken out on the plain to the south of here. You must speed up the evacuation of the city.”

            “Isawa-sama,” the captain said, and then seemed to think better of his next words, and started over. “Isawa-sama, I would that we could. But you see we are sending people through the gate as quickly as possible without having them trample each other.”

            Nakajima turned and studied the gate. What the captain said was true; the gate was smaller than the road that led to it, and the guards were doing all that they could to guide the flow of people out without delay or panic. “What if the way were wider?  I could destroy the wall on either side–”

            The captain held up his hands in alarm. “Isawa-sama, no! Please. I have no doubt that you could throw down the walls with but a thought, but it would not be helpful to have a road strewn with rocks and sharp gravel. Worse still, there is sure to be someone out of sight of the gates who will take the noise as a sign of enemy attack, and he will panic everyone around him and start a stampede.  I have seen riots start before. You must believe me about this.”

            Nakajima thought of what he had seen of the crowd’s mood. “I believe you, captain.” He studied the city wall. “That wall looks like it is very well-built,” he said.

            The captain swelled with a bit of civic pride. “You will not find a better wall outside of the Crab lands, Isawa-sama. The Scorpion do not tolerate shoddy workmanship.”

            “Then there is another way,” Nakajima said. “Please clear everyone away from the gate; this should not take long.” He left before the captain could reply, and walked towards the gate. Behind him he could hear Nobuyuki briskly offering his help in carrying out the shugenja’s orders. He smiled, then put the matter out of his mind. What he was about to do demanded both great power and great finesse, all the while dealing with interference of the god-beast’s vile presence. It was fortunate he was here, Nakajima thought, for it was clearly the type of task that required an Isawa.

            He stood in the center of the road, waiting for the guards to finish coaxing the crowd away. Then Nakajima closed his eyes, took a deep breath, centered himself, and began to softly chant a prayer to the earth kami. They were aware of him immediately, and as they focused their attention on him Nakajima felt his nausea double and redouble. He almost collapsed, but he forced his body’s misery into a small corner of his mind and did his best to ignore it. 

            The chant went on, and he could feel the kami slowly begin to understand what he was requesting of them. They were surly about being asked to do anything with the god-beast near, and Nakajima countered by pointing out that his task would be a distraction from the horror in the south. For a time that felt like an infinity to the shugenja the kami resisted his pleas, and then with the suddenness of an avalanche the task was done. Nakajima staggered a bit with the shock of it, then smoothly plunged into the prayers of thanksgiving for their help.

            When Nakajima opened his eyes again the guards were all half-kneeling, bowing to him in the warrior fashion. All the heimin in the crowd were kneeling or bowing as space permitted them, and not a sound came from the mass. Only Nobuyuki stood upright, his sword in his hand and his eyes looking for anything that could have harmed Nakajima while his attention was occupied elsewhere.

            The shugenja glanced to his left and right and smiled. On either side of him the wall had rolled itself up like a paper scroll, widening the way without dislodging a single stone. He raised his hands and addressed the crowd. “People of Ryoko Owari!” he said loudly. “Follow the directions of the city guards, they will make sure you get out safely.  The blessings of the Celestial Heavens be upon you!” He turned and began to walk away.

            Nobuyuki caught up with him after a few strides. “Nakajima-sama, where are you going?  You cannot walk far in this state.”

            “I only need to reach the side of the road,” Nakajima whispered. “Then I can kneel and look benign while my strength comes back.”

            The yojimbo smothered a laugh, then turned serious. “That you are lingering here, and not immediately departing, will help keep the people calm,” he said. 

            Nakajima nodded, but his thoughts were not on Nobuyuki’s words. The god-beast could still be seen in the distance, and the shugenja knew that if the clans could not stop it, his deed would amount to little.         

Discuss the events of this fiction in our Story Forum!

The L5R Team

Wrath of the God-Beast, Part 2

By Shawn Carman

Edited by Fred Wan

When historians would speak of the battle with the god-beast of Kali-ma, they would speak in glowing terms of the skill and prowess of those assembled to fight for the security of the Empire and for the survival of the city of Ryoko Owari Toshi. Many heroes were born that day, and far too many perished on the same day that their legend truly began. If the historians could have watched the battle from above, however, then the tales of its would be far different indeed, for the movement of the Empress’ forces across the battlefield would rival the most intricate and celebrated dances of the Kakita artisans.

As the wave of the great beast’s unholy spawn rushed forth to break the Empire’s lines, a countercharge of heavy Crab infantry surged from the front lines. It was as if a wave had been smashed by a boulder just before it reached shore, with water, foam, and debris cast in all directions. The serpentine demons scattered as the Crab shattered their ranks and split them into multiple directions. Then the Crab parted, forcing the ranks apart and creating a wedge within the twisted creatures’ ranks, a wedge that was promptly struck as the hammer strikes the anvil by an explosive charge by the Unicorn cavalry. The already disoriented creatures were completely scattered by the second charge, broken into three or four different groups, each casting about without direction or leadership. And that was when the Lion regulars moved in, neatly cutting the groups off from one another with line after line of ordered, disciplined troops. Once separated, the enemy was eradicated within mere moments, opening a gigantic hole in the enemy ranks and exposing the god-beast to the forces of the Empire.

The god-beast continued its inexorable advance, seemingly heedless of the slaughter of its minions. Through the constantly expanding holes in the ranks of its forces, a sudden rush of movement, faster even than the Unicorn cavalry, swooped toward it. The power of the Tsunami Legion, an elemental force powered by well-trained shugenja of the Phoenix Clan, assaulted the god-beast’s right flank. The flesh of the creature’s leg flickered once, quickly, like a horse’s flank when bothered by a fly, and then an absent lash of one of its limbs erased the Phoenix attackers from existence, striking them with such force that their armor, their weapons, their very bodies, simply shattered into tiny fragments.

The god-beast continued.

* * * * *

“Fortunes help us,” one of the shugenja whispered. “Taiko’s entire squadron is just… just gone.”

“We will offer prayers for their valor later,” Isawa Kimi said. The Master of the Void had a haunted look in her eyes, but her expression was one of absolute determination. “There is too much for us to do here, and small enough chance of success without succumbing to despair.” She peered carefully at the shugenja who had spoken. “Are you with us, Takashi?”

Isawa Takashi closed his eyes and nodded. “I am with you until the end and beyond, mistress.”

“Thank you, my friend,” she said with a slight smile. She turned to one of the other Phoenix gathered around her, well behind the Empire’s forces. “Gifu-sensei,” she asked quietly. “Are you ready?”

The tiny old woman cackled like a lunatic. “I haven’t been this excited in over a century, lass!” she said with a smile. “Just tell me when to begin!”

“As soon as you are able, thank you,” Kimi said, bowing slightly.

The old woman who was not a woman at all rubbed her hands together briskly and then folded them palm to palm and closed her eyes. She stood unmoving for several long moments before she began to grin again, but her brow was furrowed and sweat began to appear on her forehead. “Ugh,” she panted. “It is… very powerful. Very strong indeed.”

“What is she doing, Kimi-sensei?” one of the others asked.

Kimi turned. “It is difficult to explain, Kumai,” she answered. “For now, sufficed to say she is attempting to tame the bestial spirit of the god-beast.”

Realization dawned in the Phoenix woman’s eyes. “So then we…”

“Yes,” Kimi answered. “While she attempts to suppress the beast, then we shall commune with the Void and attempt to reach the god within it.” She peered up at the monstrosity in the distance. “I hope that some vestige of its mind remains,” she whispered to herself.

“Is it working, Gifu-sama?” one of the other Void shugenja asked.

“It is… a bit early… to tell,” the spirit woman gasped. “I have summoned… an old ally… that I sensed nearby. He can… assist me.”

“How difficult is it?” Agasha Yuhiko asked, his tone eager. “How would you compare it to the volcano?”

“Kumei, please,” Yuhiko interjected.

“It is approximately twice as difficult as a volcano!” Gifu belted out suddenly. “Now hush, you impertinent child! An elder is working!”

Yuhiko shrank in horror, but Kimi reached her hand toward him and the others. “Come,” she said. “It is time to be one with the Void.”

* * * * *

Butaru stood very still in the darkened building, his own breath deafeningly loud in his ears as he tried not to move or make any sound. He clutched a tonfa to his chest, but its value as a weapon was long since forgotten, and he held it to his chest as a child might clutch a favorite bed-thing, to keep the shadows at bay. Outside, such a short distance away, he heard something moving, sliding with a sickening sound like a large serpent, and heard a cart overturn in the street. He bit his lip to keep from letting a panicked scream slip out.

“A difficult situation, is it not?”

Butaru could not keep from a terrified squeal as he hurled himself to the floor with a thud. He waited for death, but nothing happened for several seconds, and finally he opened his eyes.

A woman in a mixture of bright blue and black was standing over him. “Difficult,” she repeated. “I have been in many such positions before.”

“Please be quiet!” Butaru hissed. “It will hear us!”

“They, not it,” the woman corrected. “But they will not hear us at the moment. I can prevent that, at least.”

Butaru frowned. “Are you a priestess?” He glanced at the swords on her hip.

“Not really,” she said. Butaru noticed now that there were three other men standing behind her. They looked almost as worried as he was. “I simply… know a few tricks.”

“We have to get out of here!” Butaro hissed. “Please, milady, we have to leave!” He tore at his own hair. “Oh Fortunes, why did I stay? I am a fool!”

“Probably,” the woman admitted. “But I know why you stayed. You stayed because you saw an opportunity. You saw a chance to claim the wealth left behind by those who fled, and that overpowered your fear.” She paused, tilting her head to the side. “Is your fear stronger now?”

Butaro ripped a small pouch from his belt and threw it to the ground, sending silver coins scattering in every direction. “The money means nothing if I die!”

“But what if you don’t?” she asked. “Are there not things more important than money? Don’t you want to be forgotten as a thief and a criminal, and be known as a hero? What greater reward can there be than adulation? What could not be yours for the taking if you are one of the heroes who saved the city?” She smiled. “Think of the rewards.”

Butaro licked his lips. He looked up at the others following the woman. He knew two of them. Criminals, both of them. Scum. Probably the same thing that people said about him. But perhaps not any longer. “Heroes,” he muttered.

The woman smiled and nodded. She looked at the others and saw the same thing in their eyes. Coins. Power. Women. Everything they wanted, if they were simply willing to take it.

Butaro nodded slowly. He rose and hefted his tonfa. “I am ready,” he said. “How many are there?”

“Two outside,” the woman said. “Go now. Become what you’ve always desired.”

Butaro grinned and turned to move to the door, the other three close behind.

Kakita Kensho-in rolled her eyes slightly as the men departed. She had not lied, not really. They would be remembered as heroes who aided in defending the city, and their families, what little they had, would benefit enormously from it. That the men would not live to enjoy the spoils of their efforts was of little concern. What use was reincarnation if it was not taken advantage of, after all?

* * * * *

            Shimekiri moved through the wasted battlefield like a god of war, intent upon his prey. He paid no heed to the corpses at his feet. The dead were as nothing to him, and the living little more than that. It was the battle that mattered. The enemy at hand, the perfect moment of a flawless strike and absolute victory. That was all that mattered, that and nothing else.

            Something clutched at his ankle.

            The swordsman looked down, his grip on his blade tightening in anticipation of a swift and perfect stroke ending this distraction, but the fierce countenance of the man at his feet stayed his hand for the moment.

            The man in the dirt was battered, his armor shattered and torn, his body drenched in blood despite that he had only a few wounds. His face was a mask of anger and determination. “Help me up, you damned simpleton Crane!” he snarled. “There is work to be done!”

            “I am not Crane,” Shimekiri answered.

            “You could have fooled me,” the man with the Crab mon spat. “You look the very…” his voice trailed off as his eyes lingered on the men following Shimekiri, and the goblin that numbered among them. “You are worse than Crane,” he finally said, spitting blood to the side and releasing the Spider’s leg. “I should cut this hand off for having touched you.”

            “You are bold, for one in your position,” Shimekiri observed. “Do you not wish to beg for your life? Why should I spare a Crab?”

            “I am Hida Fubatsu,” the man said with a snarl. “And if I valued my life so little to beg a piece of filth like you, then I do not deserve to live.”

            Shimekiri’s expression did not change, but he nodded in the slightest gesture of respect. “Your wounds are not severe. You will live.”

            “I do not need you to tell me that!” Fubatsu roared. “I am Crab! No gaijin demon can kill me!” He glanced in the direction that the Spider marched, and his brow furrowed. “You… march against the beast?”

            “I march to kill it,” Shimekiri said.

            Fubatsu’s anger dimmed for a moment, then his face twisted in hatred. “Damnation!” he said, striking the ground with his fist. He held a blade up. “Take this.”

            Shimekiri took it. “The craftsmanship is… perfect.”

            “Take it and cut that accursed beast!” Fubatsu shouted. “And get out of my sight before I change my mind!”

* * * * *

Shiba Yoshimi helped Isawa Mitsuko as the two moved toward the ritual circle Isawa Kimi and her acolytes had created. The four of them sat facing one another, perfectly positions in the northern, southern, eastern and western facings. Nearby, Agasha Gifu stood with her hands folded, her face a mask of concentration and discomfort. As the two Phoenix approached their kinsmen, a man in Mantis colors arrived as well, seemingly just materializing from the fog that had sprung up around the four Phoenix involved in the ritual. “I believe I made it clear that I no longer wish to speak with you,” the Mantis said quietly. He bore the mon of a fox over his heart.

“Now is not the time, Mizuru!” Gifu said. “I need your help!”

The man shook his head and looked around nervously. To Yoshimi he appeared tensed as if ready to flee. For some reason the image of a fox with its tail flickering nervously floated into Yoshimi’s mind. “I turned my back on that life,” he began.

Gifu’s eyes popped open. They were no longer even vaguely human. “Do you see what is taking place here?” she demanded. “You will turn your back on all life! Of all kinds! Now help me!”

The man bearing a Kitsune mon frowned, but stepped forward and placed his hands over Gifu’s, then closed his eyes. “What is going on?” Yoshimi asked the Master of Air.

“Hard to understand the ways of the spirits,” she replied, her voice exhausted.

Yoshimi frowned, but nodded. “Rest here,” he said, lowering her gently to the ground.

“I will be fine,” she insisted. “See to the others.”

Yoshimi moved toward Kimi, but stopped several paces away. Her eyes had gone completely black, and her mouth twitched every few seconds as if in some semblance of speech. “My lady,” he said in a very quiet voice, “are you well?” He waited several moments, looking for any sign that she could hear him. For any sign that she was in distress. Finally, frowning, he reached out with a tentative hand to touch her shoulder ever so lightly.

Another hand seized his wrist with a grip like iron. “I would not do that.”

Yoshimi looked up at the tattooed man who had appeared beside him without so much as a whisper. “Who are you?” he demanded.

“I am Togashi Akagi,” the monk replied. “You do not understand the intricacies of the Void. Do not touch her. To do so would imperil her very soul.”

“Her body and soul are mine to safeguard. Do not question the execution of my duty.”

Akagi gave him a contemptuous smirk. “Do not succumb to such arrogance, brother. Are the Shiba no better than that?” The grip on his wrist tightened painfully. “Do not touch her,” he repeated.

Yoshimi growled and looked to Kimi. “I will not touch her, but not for your sake. For hers.”

“Very well then,” Akagi said, releasing him. “I must return to the battle.”

Yoshimi nodded. As the monk turned to go, he added “Do not step between my charge and I again, monk. It will be your end.”

Akagi glanced over his shoulder, chuckling. “Will it?”

“Yes,” Yoshimi said. His gaze did not waver, and he paid no mind to the swimming motion of the tattoos across the monk’s back.

The monk chuckled again. “Perhaps it will,” he said. “We shall see, I suppose.”

* * * * *

            The Spider forces grew nearer to the beast, and only narrowly avoided a casual strike that devastated an entire company who fought only a few hundred meters away from them. “It is… beyond thought,” the sergeant who had abused the goblin scout only a short time ago said, his voice low and awestruck. “We cannot fight such a thing.”

            Shimekiri backhanded the man, cracking his helmet and spinning him around twice before he hit the ground, unmoving. A tiny giggle escaped the goblin’s mouth, and he stared up at the swordsman with undisguised adulation. “We kill the beast,” he said. “Whatever it takes.”

            “I do not wish to draw your ire, my lord,” another of the armored men said, stepping forward, “but do you have a plan? We will do whatever you say, but it is our hope that you will not throw our lives away on a meaningless gesture.”

            “That would be a waste,” Shimekiri said flatly. He withdrew a small clay bottle from his belt. “This will end the beast, or at least weaken it enough that it can be killed.” He stabbed the blade the Crab had given him into the ground and held the bottle aloft. “This was granted to me by Lord Daigotsu. It contains the blood of our god Fu Leng. If introduced to the beast, it will weaken him. Perhaps kill him.”

            “How can we know for sure?” the man asked.

            “We cannot,” Shimekiri said. “We must have faith.”

            “Put blood on weapon?” Gakku asked. “Stab beast?”

            “If we must,” the swordsman said. “If we can find a way to get it into the beast’s system more directly, that would be better. That seems impossible, however.”

            “Not impossible!” Gakku shouted. Quick as lightning, he grabbed the bottle from Shimekiri and ran toward the beast. The swordsman’s inhuman speed was a fraction of a moment too slow to capture the little beast, and the goblin’s hair slipped through his fingers as he unleashed a brief shout of rage and surprise.

            The goblin deftly crossed the field and leapt to dig its talons into the flesh of the god-beast’s leg. It scurried up the thing’s leg, its presence too little to attract the beast’s attention. It took longer than seemed possible, with Gakku making his way with the benefit of occasional Tsuruchi arrows that were lodged throughout the things flesh. He drew nearer and nearer to its maw, the bottle held gently in its teeth.

            In Gakku’s mind there were images of Daigotsu, praising the name Gakku, welcoming the little being into the Spider as a hero and a veteran. It was all the scout could do to keep the smile from causing the bottle to slip. As he grew closer, he smelled the fetid stench of the thing’s breath, and he lifted the bottle, yanking the stopper out. “For Spider!” he screamed.

            In the distance, Shimekiri watched in mute horror as the god-beast flicked its head like a cow might, and watched as the tiny speck that was on its cheek was hurled into the air. Almost as an afterthought, the beast raised its head and snapped the tiny gnat-like thing up, the speck disappearing instantly.

            “We are undone,” Shimekiri said morosely.

* * * * *

            Kimi was one with all, and one with nothing.

            Often she had drifted beyond the veil of the Void, swimming in the emptiness between the spaces of all things. This time she had sojourned farther than ever before, farther than she would have dared under different circumstances. Her acolytes anchored her, adding their power to her own, tethering her to the mortal realm despite the distance she swam through to the other side. She could no longer feel anything of the world, only the strength of her acolytes, a beacon that she could use to return when her work was finished.

            If it could, in fact, be finished.

            The raging, animal presence that filled the Void in this place, that leaked from the very pores of the god-beast’s flesh, had at last abated and receded. Its attention was centered in the mortal realm, both by the battle it faced, inconsequential as it might be, and the efforts of the spirit that called itself Agasha Gifu. In the absence of the beast’s rage, there was something else, something that Kimi must reach if there was any chance for the day to be won. It was nothing more than a spark. A sliver of light. A memory.

            Can you understand me? Kimi called with her mind through the Void.

            There was no actual response, but after what seemed like hours, there was a tiny flicker of awareness.

            Praise the Fortunes, Kimi thought/spoke. She felt like weeping, but dared not let her focus waver for even a moment. I know that you are there. I know that there is something left, something remaining of what you were before the Destroyer wrought her horrors upon you. Please, I need you to come back. I need your understanding.

            Again, the delay was considerable. Finally, there was another flicker of awareness, but nothing more than basic emotion. Fear. Regret. And desire. A longing more powerful than anything Kimi had ever felt. It washed over her like an ocean, staggering her.

            I know what you want, she thought/spoke to the entity. I would give anything if I could restore you. What was done to you, even a gaijin deity, should never have taken place. Nothing divine deserves such a fate. But I cannot restore you. There is not enough remaining. What you were, what once was, cannot be remade. Your presence is forever lost.

            Pain. Loss. Anger. Pain. So much pain. And then, after a long while of pain, there was something else. Something pleading. Something pitiful and terrible.

            Kimi lowered her head. If that is what you wish, then yes. You are a god, and beyond that which I know, but there is so little left of you… yes. Yes, we can unmake what remains. We can set you free.

            Rage. Pain.

            Acceptance.

            I am sorry, Kimi said. Please, forgive me.

* * * * *

The beast staggered and nearly fell, despite that there were no obvious attacks that had struck anything vital. It shook its head and roared, this time in surprise and pain, sounds that the assembled armies had not heard, but which all instantly recognized as a moment of opportunity.

Horiuchi Nobane’s face was streaked with white paint and the blood of the countless foes he had slain. Even the blood of the beast itself stained the hem of his kimono, as he had launched more than one successful strike against the thing’s flank and lived. He screamed in fury as he led his men to the charge, silently begging his ancestors to grant him a glorious death so that he could join his them.

Togashi Kaelung ground his teeth against the pain as he launched flurry after flurry of attacks against the beast’s inhumanly resilient flesh, flesh that had destroyed his trusted axe hours earlier. Before, it had been like striking steel. Now, it was as striking stone, but there was some yield, and the thing’s flesh first discolored and then began to bleed. The monk was certain that his hands were broken, but he would not stop, not until it was dead.

Daigotsu Shimekiri said nothing as he cut the beast again and again, marveling privately at the quality of the Crab’s steel. Huge hunks of flesh fell to the ground, staining it black with gallon upon gallon of blood. The beast’s death was his masterpiece, his crowning achievement, the most flawless of all victories.

The beast raged and stomped its feet, its legs completely stained with its blood as its tiny enemies carved away at its flesh mercilessly. Its wrath truly aroused, it took a terrible toll, destroying legions with its mad flailing, but each move was slower, each attack slightly less potent. The thing began to pale from blood loss, no longer caring that it trod upon a field littered with hundreds or thousands of dead.

The beast staggered, and it fell.

            Gakku the goblin screamed its throat hoarse, stopping only to draw deep, ragged breaths and spit out the thick ichor that kept filling its mouth. The bottle had been forgotten, dropped somewhere as it entered the beast’s maw, and if he had contemplated the matter at all, the goblin would have realized he could not be certain if the bottle had even entered the beast’s mouth in the first place.

            The crude blade he carried saved Gakku from a terrible descent into the beast’s stomach, and he hacked away mercilessly at the roof of the beast’s mouth, desperate to try and escape. He tore through the roof of the mouth, nearly drowning himself in a torrent of blood and bile, choking on it but fighting his way to the top, crawling out of the mouth. The strange crystal pendant that he wore, the one that he had found in the rubbish bin near the Fingers of Bone, glowed slightly, allowing him to see ever so slightly the nightmare that surrounded him.

            The red gave way to a sickly gray, and the torrent of blood changed in consistency.

            Gakku screamed a strangled cry and redoubled his efforts to escape.

* * * * *

            The unholy thing was done. Kimi sensed the beast dying, but that no longer mattered to her. The thing she had done, the unmaking she had performed, was blasphemy by any measure of the word. It mattered not to her if the thing she had helped to die was a Fortune or some ancient gaijin god whose name she had never heard. She had aided in its death, and though it had been a mercy, she felt sure her soul was imperiled. She was lost.

            The grief she felt was overwhelming. She was lost not only metaphorically but literally. In her pain, in her guilt, she could no longer sense her acolytes. Their light was gone, and she could not find it. She was adrift in the Void. In the emptiness that was all things and nothing.

            Sensation.

            There was a sense of a hand on her shoulder, and a gentle push. She was drifting then, washed away in the Void. There was a pinprick of light, a tiny flame like a candle on the horizon, and she moved toward it. She could sense them. The acolytes.

            There was a shimmering for a moment, as if something was within the Void with her, and she saw a face. A familiar face. It smiled, and she felt his love for her one last time.

            Kimi wept again, this time with joy.

* * * * *

Togashi Kaelung lay dying on the field of battle. There were no shouts of victory that he could hear, no cries of mourning. He had heard a sound, a terrible noise that could only be the beast’s death cry, and felt the unbelievable impact that could only have been its fall to the ground. Then there had been nothing. Kaelung wondered if the sound had made him deaf, but that did not matter. Soon he would be dead, and all else would fade away. The ground beneath him was already wet with his blood. There was not much left to lose, he thought. Kaelung thought for a moment of all the men he had seen die. They had all reacted differently, but some had passed without regret, with a certain serenity that he had always strived to achieve in life. He envied those men. That was not his fate, it seemed.

There was a rustling near him, and Kaelung saw a faint green glow at the edge of his vision. “Togashi Kaelung,” a voice said near his ear. “You have fought valiantly today. Your heroism is an inspiration to those who have seen you on the field of battle. The darkness in your spirit has never dimmed the light of your being.” A beautiful woman with wild hair floated in the edge of his vision, extending her hand to him. The hand was what glowed so brilliantly. “Take my hand, Kaelung. Be born again and change the world by your example.”

Kaelung stared at Matsu Benika for a moment, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He struggled for the strength to reach for her, but at the same time he became aware of shadows pooling on the opposite side.

“Is that really what you want?” a seductive whisper issued in his ear. “Do you want to be looked upon as an example, as a hero? Think of the burden that comes with it. Remember instead when you wandered the Empire, enacting your own will to achieve your own ends. Your own selfishness, your wrath, your power… you tapped into it and made it your own. You were no one’s man but your own. Think of what you could accomplish if you but returned to those days.” A dark and beautiful woman, Kakita Kensho-in, floated on the opposite side, her shadowed hand extended to him as well. “Join me, and we can shape the fate of men without the strength to find their own path.”

Kaelung glanced from one to the other, incapable of speaking for the moment. He closed his eyes, and reached out one hand.

* * * * *

The battle was long since over, and the massive corpse of the god-beast lay unmoving on the earth, its form partially driven into the ground by its own weight as it fell dead upon the ground. For several hours, large numbers of samurai stood guard against it to ensure that it would not rise again, but finally even they had retreated to the city to tend their wounds. Shugenja were stationed periodically around its edge, preparing for the ritual of unprecedented size that would take place at dawn to immolate the thing, keeping watch for any sign of life, but there was none. The beast was dead.

But there was life still within it.

Late in the night, when the shugenja were deep within their meditations, there was a tiny twitch of movement from the beast’s head. It was nothing to speak of, almost imperceptible from a distance greater than a few dozen feet, but if one had been standing upon the beast’s leathery hide, the sensation would have been unmistakable. Moments later, it came again, and then again only a few moments after that. It increased in frequency and strength, coming faster and faster until, finally, the flesh of the beast’s head tore and shattered with a sound like dry wood underfoot.

Something emerged from deep within the recesses of the beast’s skull. It bore no resemblance to anything that had ever walked the Empire before. It was taller than a man, and wider again by half. Its arms were tipped with deadly talons, and its mouth ran freely with the blood of the divine on which it had gorged itself. Large, muscular growths emerged from its sides beneath its arms, looking for all in the world like a new pair of arms growing from its ribs.

The beast panted and wiped the blood from its mouth, snarling at the discomfort from having to eat its way free. It flexed its new form, growling at the subsiding pain of transformation.

“Gakku,” it whispered, speaking its own name in a struggle to remember. The images that flooded its mind were not its own, but visions induced by the consumption of the god-beast’s flesh. It shook its head, trying to force the false memories from its mind.

“Daigotsu!” it whispered. “Kali-ma!”

The beast lumbered into the night.

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Wrath of the God-Beast, Part 1

By Shawn Carman

Edited by Fred Wan

There were screams of alarm as the people of Ryoko Owari Toshi filed through the streets, passing through the gates of the city and into the plains beyond. The members of the Thunder Guard, the city’s elite guardians, worked hand in hand with the firemen gangs that they so often opposed. The traditional enemies had put aside their rivalries and now struggled to evacuate the city as rapidly as they could. Now and again one of the simple folk being led from the city would glance to the south and see the massive form on the horizon that lumbered toward them, and a fresh wave of screams would begin.

            Three men sat atop their horses south of the city, hundreds of armed and armored samurai massing around them. The stared to the south without fear. “The beast does not slow,” Akodo Shigetoshi said.

            Shinjo Dun’s expression did not change. “If Yu-Pan-sama’s flanking maneuver cannot slow it, then it cannot be slowed. She is the finest cavalry officer that lives.”

            “Not for much longer if the beast cannot be stopped,” Hida Benjiro added solemnly.

            “Then let us end its threat,” Shigetoshi said firmly. “This far, brothers, and no farther.” He say higher in the saddle and raised his voice so that it would carry to the other soldiers assembled near them. “Today, we kill a god!”

            The roar of the army was deafening.

            In the south, the god-beast continued.

* * * * *

The tiny goblin peeked carefully over the edge of the riverbed where he was secreted. He quavered slightly at the sheer number of samurai that he saw massing for battle to the northeast, but he did not succumb to the urge to run. He glanced all along the horizon, lingering for a moment on the enormity of the god-beast that lumbered in their direction. Then he ducked back down.

“How many?” the gunso demanded.

“Don’t know,” the goblin said, shaking his head sadly. “Can’t count so high. Too many!”

“Useless!” The man kicked at the goblin. “Why you were ever permitted to serve as a scout I cannot comprehend!”

“Makishi,” a quiet voice said. “Shut your mouth or I will take your head.”

The gunso turned toward the voice, eyes blazing, but shrank instantly when he saw who had spoken. “I… yes, Shimekiri-sama,” he said quietly.

The dark swordsman lifted his head to stare at the approaching monstrosity, apparently heedless of the danger of exposure. “Our time comes shortly.”

The cowed gunso frowned. “My lord, how… how can we attack the thing among so many enemies? They will destroy us on sight.”

“They will not,” Daigotsu Shimekiri said. “In a few moments, they will need all the assistance that we can offer.”

The gunso shook his head. “I do not understand.”

The swordsman looked at him with a completely disgusted expression. “Of course you do not. You are a simpleton.” He turned back toward the south. “Can you not smell it on the air? “ He nodded toward the god-beast. “Something different is coming.”

Gakku looked up at the dark man in awe, and shivered.

* * * * *

“The beast approaches!” the Lion officer roared. “Lord Shigetoshi needs men willing to face and fell it! Who among you is ready?”

The men clamored and readied their weapons, preparing for the advance toward the mountainous foe in the distance. Ikoma Noda smiled and lifted the war banner high into the air, shouting about the pride of their ancestors on such a day. He was in the midst of a tale of the Lion Champion who had marched into the Shadowlands to slay countless foes when the shuddering of the ground and the periodic report of the beast’s footfalls suddenly and abruptly stopped.

The entire army assembled south of the city stopped and stood, staring at their distant enemy. The beast had stopped and stood immobile. Then, slowly, it panned its head left to right, as if surveying what was arrayed against it. Those assembled did not move, nor speak, or hardly even breathe; so far as any of them knew, it was the first time the beast had displayed any sort of reaction to the forces of Rokugan other than a slightly annoyed response to attack. Now, it simply stood. Again, slowly, it shifted its weight to the right side and lifted its powerful limbs, then brought them down with astonishing force.

Despite that the god-beast was yet miles away, many among the assembled forces struggled to maintain their footing with the massive tremors that the beast’s action unleashed. Nearer to the creature, a massive chasm was torn in the earth, a gulf the likes of which did not exist outside the most jagged and quake-torn regions of the Spine of the World mountains. The dust cloud that was thrown into the sky dimmed the mid-day sun until it was as twilight. And then, just as the air began to clear, there was movement from the chasm itself.

Things began to emerge. They were horrible to look upon, serpentine in nature but with heavily armored carapaces protecting their upper body and two long, insectile arms that ended not with hands, but with foot-long claws that seemed more like blades. The lower jaw was slightly wider than the top, leading to a gaping, terrible maw that was large enough to consume a warrior’s head in one bite. At first there were only a few, then dozens, and then hundreds of the creatures swarming up from the chasm. The din of their war cries seemed nearly silent in the wake of the thunderous report of the beast’s crashing steps, but it was audible just the same.

“What… why are there demons beneath the Scorpion lands?” Noda heard one of the officers ask the nearby Kitsu priest.

“They were not,” the priest answered mournfully. “The beast has summoned them. It is perhaps a defense of some sort.”

If the commander had an answer to that, it was never spoken, as the swarms of creatures from the chasm suddenly began their serpent-like gait toward the assembled armies. And their rate of movement was vastly faster than that of the god-beast.

            Noda stared in horror at the wave of abominations that swarmed from the earth and moved toward them. The task before them had been all but impossible when it was simply the god-beast alone, but now? Now he did not know what to do. As if from a great distance he heard the officer shouting commands to the men assembled behind him, and he heard them moving to assume a new formation, but without looking he knew that their spirits were troubled. They were Lion, and they would never break, but this was a blow to their morale such as he had never known, and he did not know what to do. There were no words for something like this.

            A hand closed over Noda’s where he held the banner.

            Noda turned slowly, his eyes lingering on the doom before them, he gaze finally tearing away from it toward the strange green glow in the periphery of his vision. The hand that held his was brilliant green, so pure that it was almost painful to look upon. The woman to whom the hand was attached stood beside him, her eyes boring into his very soul. The warcats loitering in her wake were almost imperceptible for the sheer force of her presence. Moments ago they had not been there, but now they stood at the fore of the Lion forces. “Noda,” she said, her voice at once quiet and as strong as steel. “The men are ready. They need you.”

            “Yes,” he said, his voice scarcely above a whisper. “Yes!” he said louder. He turned to the men, his eyes blazing. “The god-beast fears us!” he roared. “It fears the Lion, as all things that live should! It sends its pawns to stop us, but we will not be stopped! We will litter the path of the beast with the dead, and burn their foul corpses as a monument to the enormity of the task once we have slain the beast!”

            The men lifted their weapons and roared their responses, shifting quickly and smoothly into the proper formation. Noda could see their grip on their weapons, the eagerness in their eyes. They were ready for battle, ready for death if need be, and Noda was ready to fight and die with them.

            He looked for Matsu Benika, the Jade Hand, but she had moved on. Somewhere else along the front lines, he heard another roar of victory, and he knew that her work was not yet finished.

* * * * *

            The forces of the Empire and the chasm-spawn collided like two storms, crashing into one another with a cacophony of violence and death that could scarcely be rivaled with only human opponents. The measured skill and fearlessness of the samurai was a match for the sheer number of their opponents, but the surprising resilience of the demons evened the struggle. The ever-closer form of the god-beast behind the enemy’s lines also complicated the struggle considerably.

            Tsuruchi Shisuken was keenly aware of all these factors as he fired arrow after arrow into the horde, trying to thin it as much as possible in order to break the lines so that the army could press forward to intercept the god-beast before it grew too close to the city. He grimaced as he fired his forty-first arrow, and wondered if the six quivers allocated to him would be sufficient.

            Shisuken halted in mid-draw before firing his next arrow. Something appeared in his field of vision, and he risked a glance to the riverbed. A force of men, some two or perhaps three dozen at most, leapt up from their place of concealment and charged the flank of the creatures, breaking through the horde’s front line and plummeting into their midst. For the moment, their actions were lost upon Shisuken, however, as he fixated on one thing and one thing only: the image of a man he had seen in his mind’s eye one thousand times over after their one and only meeting. It was the man who had assassinated Moshi Amika during the night when so many prominent figures across the Empire had perished. It had been years before now, but Shisuken had not forgotten. The man had killed his charge, and he would never forget.

            Shisuken pivoted and followed the new target, preparing to fire. He had fired upon the same man only once before, and while he had been certain at the time that he had landed a killing blow, the man’s body had never been found. Shisuken never missed, and the double shame of the man’s escape and filled him with rage such as he had never known. This was the chance to avenge it.

            “Who are those men?” one of the archers next to him bellowed.

            “I do not know, but their charge is disrupting the beasts’ line and allowing our forces to push ahead!” their commander said. “Fire to support!”

            Shisuken’s arrow shook ever so slightly as he struggled with the rage burning in his chest. This might be the only chance he ever had to end the shame that he and he alone attached to his name as a result of that night. This might be the only chance for revenge.

            “Shisuken!” his commander shouted. “What is wrong with you? Fire!”

            With a strangled growl, Shisuken pivoted away from the target and fired into the mass of demons, hitting one directly in the throat. “When this is over, your life is mine!” he hissed to his distant opponent, not caring that he could not hear him.

* * * * *

“Back to back, men!” Mirumoto Kenzo bellowed over the clamor of the creatures they fought. “We did not travel so far just to fall to these beasts! We must win the day and return home to kill more Yobanjin!”

The Dragon officer’s men shouted in answer to his goading, some even chuckling, but Kenzo knew that their situation was dire. The beasts had broken the line near where they stood, and they were cut off from the main force. An isolated unit had poor chances for survival in situations such as these, and Kenzo knew all too well what the likely outcome would be. The whispers in the back of his mind, whispers he had learned to ignore under all circumstances save for battle, called out to him to succumb to the rage and bloodlust, but he knew that nothing good could come of such things. He remained in control of himself and struggled to find a way to lead his men to safety.

A blurry form vaulted over Kenzo and his men to land amid the demons facing the Dragon officer. There was still more blurred movement, and two of the things were cast away in opposite directions as if struck by a Unicorn steed moving at full gallop. Where they had once stood, a tattooed monk was in their place. “Good day, Mirumoto-sama!” he said, his face completely calm as he punched through the thick carapace of another creature, killing it instantly. “I thought perhaps you might require assistance.”

“My thanks, brother,” Kenzo shouted, “but unless you brought your entire monastery, I think you may have overestimated your abilities.”

The monk did not smile. “My fellow monks have pressing matters to attend to elsewhere, I fear, but do not be concerned; I did not come alone.”

There were more flurries of movement, this time among the ranks of the creatures, and this time black and crimson where the monk’s had been green and gold. As Kenzo watched, more than two dozen of the demons ahead of them seemed to simply fall to pieces in a shower of gore and viscera. With the way thinned, Kenzo could see the way back to the primary formation, where the armies of the Empress stood against the gaijin demons.

Togashi Osawa smiled ever so slightly. “Our allies among the Scorpion,” he explained. “They are called the Shadow Blades, and I understand they have a great deal of experience against the Destroyers and the plague-ridden. They are rarely seen save by their enemies, it appears.”

“Well if you see them,” Kenzo said, “please extend my gratitude.” He gestured to his men. “Charge, men! Let us clear the way and rejoin our comrades!”

* * * * *

            Well behind the front lines, where no one was free to see it, there was a shimmering in the air, and then the wind began to increase in strength. It grew stronger with each passing minute, spinning in a tight circle like a miniature cyclone, picking up debris and loose earth until its center could not be seen. Once opaque, it persisted only for a handful of seconds, and then died down as if it had never been. Within the space formerly obscured by the storm stood a dozen men and women. Six of them formed a circle facing outward, and with the cessation of the storm, five of those collapsed to the ground, unconscious. The sixth staggered and dropped to one knee, but did not fall.

            “Lady Mitsuko!” One of those within the circle, an armored warrior, stepped forward to hold the woman’s arm.

            Isawa Mitsuko, the Elemental Master of Air, struggled to catch her breath. “I… I am sorry. Forgive me, but… the kami, they demand… quite a price for such a ritual.” The inquisitor reached up and brushed a lock of hair, once the most brilliant black and now shot through very slightly with grey, back from her face. “I need a moment.”

            Another woman in the garb of an Elemental Master stepped forward. “You and your acolytes have done all that we could ask and more, Mitsuko-sama. Rest now. Let us handle this.” She nodded to the armored man. “Yoshimi, remain with them.”

            The man looked up sharply. “My place is with you.”

            Isawa Kimi shook her head. “Not this time, friend. Stay.” She turned to the others. “Are you ready?”

            One of them shook his head. “Look at the size of it,” he said in awe. “How can we fight something like that?”

            Another laughed. She was a tiny old woman, and it was a strange, cackling sound. “Is it harder to stop than a volcano, little ones? No? Then stand aside, and let Agasha Gifu show you what has to be done.”

TO BE CONTINUED

Discuss the events of this fiction in our Story Forum!

you will find below all the results from the various activities GenCon attendees were able to partake in 2010.

Name a Card Invitational Tournament (08/05/10)

Attendance: 20

1 – Eric Gardiner – Mantis – Follower: Champion of Thunder
2 – Aaron Barto – Lion
3 – Steve Simonaitis – Mantis
4 – Mark Stevenson – Phoenix

Winner’s Choice Tournament (08/06/10)

Attendance: 61

1- Dennis Dreischmeyer – Mantis – 2 Glory points, kept for the Clan- Captain of the Third Kama
2 – Chris Dornan – Phoenix – 2 Glory points, kept for the Clan – Villain
3 – Case Kiyonaga – Dragon – 2 Glory points, kept for the Clan – Master of the Blade
4 – Josh Cook – Mantis – 2 Glory points, kept for the Clan – Prophet

Second Chance Tournament (08/07/10) – The Final Plague

Attendance: 118

1 – Adam Carey – Scorpion – 8 Glory points, kept for the Clan
2 – Joshua Lindsey – Dragon – 4 Glory points, kept for the Clan
3 – Jesse Gibson – Scorpion – 2 Glory points, kept for the Clan
4 – Ian Cameron – Dragon – 2 Glory points, kept for the Clan

GenCon 2010 Main Event (08/07/10) – Wrath of the God-Beast

Attendance: 109

1 – Roby Swann – Spider – 16 Glory points, given to Jigoku
2 – Greg Wong – Dragon – 8 Glory points, given to the Empire
3 – Case Kiyonaga – Dragon – 4 Glory points, given to the Empire
4 –  Feargal Fanning – Crab – 4 Glory points, given to the Empire
5 – Trevor Valentine – Mantis – 2 Glory points, kept for the Clan
6 – Eric Gardiner – Mantis – 2 Glory points, kept for the Clan
7 – Lon Schlittenhart – Lion – 2 Glory points, kept for the Clan
8 – Danny Swartz – Lion – 2 Glory point, kept for the Clan
9 – Chris Dornan – Phoenix - 1 Glory point, kept for the Clan
10 – Howard Hooven – Dragon - 1 Glory point, kept for the Clan
11 – Mark Armitage – Spider - 1 Glory point, kept for the Clan
12 – Jean Pierre Lacroute – Phoenix - 1 Glory point, kept for the Clan
13 – James Collins – Lion - 1 Glory point, kept for the Clan
14 – Eric Welsh – Crab - 1 Glory point, kept for the Clan
15 – David Brereton – Phoenix - 1 Glory point, kept for the Clan
16 – Paul Kalhorn – Lion - 1 Glory point, kept for the Clan

Personality Choice from the Winner: Gakku

Top of Clan Choices:
Crab: Hida Fubatsu
Crane: Kakita Kensho-in
Dragon: Mirumoto Kenzo
Lion: Matsu Benika
Mantis: Kitsune Mizuru
Phoenix: Isawa Nakajima
Scorpion: Yogo Rieko
Spider: Daigotsu Shimekiri
Unicorn: Horiuchi Nobane

GenCon Tshirt Contest (08/07/10)

1 – Mantis Clan – 4 Honor points, kept for the Clan
2 – Unicorn Clan – 2 Honor points, kept for the Clan
3 – Crane Clan – 1 Honor point, kept for the Clan
4 – Crab Clan – 1 Honor point, kept for the Clan

GenCon Live Performance (08/07/10)

1 – Mantis Clan – 8 Honor points, kept for the Clan
2 – Crab Clan – 4 Honor points, kept for the Clan
3 – Unicorn Clan – 2 Honor points, kept for the Clan
4 – Ronin – 2 Honor points, given to the Empire

GenCon Theme Deck Competition (08/08/10)

1 – Paul Li – Spider – 8 Honor points, kept for the Clan
2- Robert van Natter – Crab – 4 Honor points, given to the Empire
3 – Lee Masheter – Spider – 2 Honor points, kept for the Clan
4 – Daniel Briscoe – Unicorn – 2 Honor points, kept for the Clan

GenCon Costume Contest (08/08/10)

1 – Dawn Parsons – Spider – 8 Honor points, given to the Empire
2 – Sarah Riggs – Crane – 4 Honor points, given to the Empire
3 – Kristin Markert – Crab – 2 Honor points, kept for the Clan
4 – Matthew Orwig – Mantis – 2 Honor points, kept for the Clan

At the end of the GenCon L5R party, the following items were handed out to the attendees (if you haven’t found it yet, the card was located in the little front pocket), in addition to 15 boosters:

A special thanks to Bryan Reese who personally paid for all of the shot glasses as his gift to the players.

Thanks to everyone for taking part in this great celebration of 15 years of L5R, whether at the convention or watching the events as the unfolded thanks to L5RChives.
More material filmed at the event will be made available as it is edited!

Together, we are stronger.
The L5R Team

1st Dennis Dreischmeyer: Mantis: Captain of the Third Kama
2nd Chris Dornan: Phoenix: Villain
3rd Case Kiyonaga: Dragon: Master of the Blade
4th Josh Cook: Mantis: Prophet

61 players total
8 crab
6 crane
5 dragon
6 lion
11 mantis
11 phoenix
7 scorpion
2 spider
5 unicorn

1st Dennis Dreischmeyer: Mantis: Captain of the Third Kama
2nd Chris Dornan: Phoenix: Villain
3rd Case Kiyonaga: Dragon: Master of the Blade
4th Josh Cook: Mantis: Prophet

61 players total
8 crab
6 crane
5 dragon
6 lion
11 mantis
11 phoenix
7 scorpion
2 spider
5 unicorn

1st Dennis Dreischmeyer: Mantis: Captain of the Third Kama
2nd Chris Dornan: Phoenix: Villain
3rd Case Kiyonaga: Dragon: Master of the Blade
4th Josh Cook: Mantis: Prophet

61 players total
8 crab
6 crane
5 dragon
6 lion
11 mantis
11 phoenix
7 scorpion
2 spider
5 unicorn

The L5R Team