(L5R - The Spoils of War) Jodan-no-Kamae: Akodo Ishii's Story

[truemane]

https://i.imgur.com/59hhKzE.jpg
JODAN-NO-KAMAE: FROM THE HEAVENS
AKODO ISHII'S STORY

"To stand Jodan, the samurai turns the body sideways,
rear foot raised, front foot light and ready to move.
The katana is raised above the head, both hands upon
the hilt, tip back, prepared to strike."

What Akodo Ishii always remembered the most about Toho-sensei, his great teacher, was that, alone of all the many people he met, listened to, learned from, and respected over the course of his life, Toho-sensei was the only one who ever really told the truth. The older he got, the more he saw that the whole of Rokugani society was a collective delusion which everyone pretended to accept, but in which no one truly believed.

"Never forget, Bushi-Kohai, that the samurai is naught but a sword with no hilt. We put pretty colours on its back and teach it to hold a teacup. But the samurai is a brute. A thug. And its job is naught but blood."

He hadn't been back in his home village more than day before trouble came to find him. He wasn't surprised, but he was a strange mixture of curious and elated and disappointed. He had walked away from this place a tall, awkward, ungainly youth so spectacularly inept on the smallest field of battle that he'd been rushed away to his uncle's protectorate in shame, beaten and broken. But he had some back a solid wall of muscle and skill and quiet, studious determination.

And in between those two realities, there had been Toho-sensei.

His uncle was always 'too busy' to pay him very much mind. And he was busy. He was the Lord of a vital fortress at the corner of a river between Lion and Dragon lands. He had much to do and his face was deep-set with lines of care. But all the same, Ishii (a sensitive and intuitive boy) could see in his uncle's eyes that he was ashamed of the manner of boy's arrival. And had no interest in associating with him in even the most cursory manner.

But it took his chief retainer, Toho, about seventeen seconds to notice and take the measure of the boy. And find him whenever his duties permitted. And show him exercises for his heart and his mind and his body. And to tell him horrible things, scandalous things, almost heretical things, but true things.

"Bushido! Celestial Order? Bah! What are the Rokugani but slavering wolves in silk kimonos? What is a samurai but a barely-tamed dog? What is Bushido but the leash?"

As the season changed, Toho spent more and more time with the boy. He never called him Ishi-kun or (even worse) I-bo, like his uncle and most of his staff did. Always referred to him as Bushi-Kohai. Warrior-student. And he looked Ishii in the eyes when he spoke and listened when Ishii had things to say in turn.

Even though he often dismissed those things as errant nonsense.

"Honour is not a badge. Nor a face. Nor a mask. Nor a pretty ribbon won on race-day. Every samurai knows that, four feet of steel from now, ye'r spilling ye'r guts in the dirt. Honour is what stops you doing it with your face in your own armpit and your nose full of your own stink."

Toho was a graduate of the Matsu school. The Berserkers. The Deathseekers. But even in that he was remarkable. He was no raging lunatic. No unhinged savage with a sword and a license to do whatever he pleased. He was rough, true. And his manners were often quite abominable. But he was direct. And level-headed. And never did a thing or said a word without meaning behind it.

It didn't take long before Ishii knew that he wanted to enter the Matsu school. And it wasn't long before Toho-Sensei agreed to be his tutor and sponsor and train him until he was able to join the main class at the Kyuden. And so, for months, he trained, and learned, and sat at the feet of Toho-sensei, who taught what it really meant to be a samurai.

And now, back home, there was this.

His name was Kato. Ishii didn't even know the other boys' names. His little gang of ruffians and bullies. There were three when he left. Three who surrounded him and taunted him into a fight he didn't want and couldn't win. Three who broke his arm and his nose and his cheekbone and sent him away in shame.

Times had been good for Kato. There were seven of them now.

And even as they spread out around him, Ishii could almost respect them. A samurai was a bully. Was a ruffian. Behind the words and the bowing, the only thing that mattered, really, was strength. The samurai who could take what she wanted could have what she wanted. That was the way of things. That was Bushido.

But these seven were not real samurai. There was no purpose here. No goal. No strategy or tactic. There was only the low-lying idiocy that drove low-lying people to act like snakes. Like cowards. For no better reason than they were bored. And they could. A pack of wolves he would have faced. But this? This was an abomination.

"He's back," said Kato. "And he's bigger now. Look at the little sage all grown, huh?"

The other tittered.

"But he might be bigger, but I think he's still that scared little boy who cried in the grass when I broke his arm!" This last punctuated by an aggressive lunge toward Ishii, who didn't move.

A flicker of doubt crossed Kato's face. But his gaze flicked to his gang, and he continued on, instead of backing away like he knew he should. And from that moment, Ishii felt nothing but contempt.

"Always remember, Bushi-Kohai, that the fastest way out is through. When some swaggering fool stops to figure out exactly how to tell you your ancestors ate Eta manure, you open his belly and walk away."

Seven of them or no, Ishii was ready for what came next.

Welcome to your Prologue! So, as I explained in the Chargen thread, what I want you to is complete the scene. You can invent, write, create, do anything you want. Shift places, times, locations. Speak for any other character you wish. All of this has 'already' happened in the world of the game so there are no roles and nothing you try will fail.

So what does come next? Does he fight? Does he win? How does he fight? What does he feel after? And how did it impact his new, fragile view of himself? Did he make his uncle proud? Or his father? And what happens next?

Questions? You know where I am.

[Zero Prime]

Akodo Ishii (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=22511371&postcount=5)
Void Points: 2 of 2
Wounds: 0
Wound Penalty: None.

Ikoma Kato had always been a broad for a Rokugani, even as a child, an asset he used in controlling his allies, and intimidating his rivals. However, in his absence Ishii, under Toho-sensei's rigorous training, had grown to a man. The long, awkward limbs of his childhood, had been thickened with muscle and sinew, his hands, which his mother had oft said were more suited to a shamisen than a katana, had been hardened with calluses, earned with countless blisters from the intensive Matsu Budokai training. However, what had most changed in the young man who stood before Ikoma Kato, was his spirit, for that too had been forged, tempered and hardened under his master's watchful eye.

One direction, and that is through.

He had already won when Ikoma had made his move, and in the face of Ishii's resolution, had faltered. However, the young man had not trained under Ishii's own Sensei's, and was not aware that the battle had been lost. He was bolstered by the weak spirits of lesser men, and so Ichii must show him the truth, he owed the young Ikoma that much, for had the brute not broken his arm, proved that both his flesh, and his spirit were weak, he would not have been sent to recover at the household of his uncle, Akodo Mashida, nor would he have come to the attention of Toho-sensei. Ishii could only hope the imminent violence would serve the Ikoma as well as it had served him.

There was no hostility in his actions, no malice in his thoughts, he was not angry, nor did he seek revenge, or retribution against the broad shouldered Ikoma. Their words were true, his arm had been broken, and there were tears in his eyes when his brother, Masayuki had found him and brought him to father. As neither the Ikoma or Ishii himself completed their Gempukku, neither had yet earned the privilege to wear their daisho, however, as both were the son's of prestigious fathers, each had a wakizashi thrust through their obi. Emboldened by his allies, Kato's hand flicked towards his hilt, and suddenly a chance encounter became a threshold between life and death.

Ishii's eyes were impassive, however, they saw everything, his opponent's own movements betrayed his intent, his body sideways, rear foot planted, and parallel to his lead foot, upon which rested less that a quarter of his weight ready to move in an instant, the blade would be drawn and held high, exposing his body, anticipating the thrust, a side step and counter, and Ishii would be dead. However, he responded with Shikko no mi to iu koto, the body of lacquer and glue, and Toho-sensei's voice filtered through his thoughts, he did not concentrate on them, for that meant the stopping mind, and on this, the threshold to the afterlife, such an action would cost him his very life. Instead the voice played like the reflection of the moon across the still waters of his mind;


By lacquer and glue is meant to stick closely, in the sense of remaining in contact, to the body of one's opponent and to not become separated from him. When one approaches the body of an opponent, stick your head, body and legs very close to him.
Most people, even if they stick their legs and heads closely, keep their bodies away. Keep your body also close to that of the opponent so that there is no space in between. This should be considered carefully.

Ishii took one long stride forward, and drew his wakizashi a quarter from the scabbard, at the same time making a small half circle motion with it, so his hand and hilt intercepted Ikoma's draw, trapping his blade within his own scabbard. His body now pressed intimately against his opponents, his hand trapped Ikoma's hilt, so the blade could not clear the scabbard. He drew himself to his full height, and with a brief, intense shout, drove the crown of his forehead into the bridge of his opponents nose.

It exploded like an overripe pomegranate, blood streamed from his face, his eyes flooded with tears, and his hands flew to the ruins of his nose, his wakizashi all but forgotten. As he stumbled backwards, unbalanced and in pain, he fell to the road, while his allies took a menacing step forward, it was at this point a metallic rasp filled the encroaching circle of men, Ishii's blade flew from his scabbard to point at the face of the nearest ruffian.

"He," he indicated the writhing form of Ikoma Kato, "is the son of Ikoma Miyasaki-sama!" Ishii's voice was like the roar of a whirlwind, and staggered the approaching young men, "YOU!" His blade tip swung slowly at eye level to each of the circling bushi, "Are a pack of rabid dogs! One more step," his eyes were fierce, daring any man to advance, "and I will open you, from groin to skull. Our ancestor's are looking upon you and weeping, I came home expecting to find lions!" He spat in the dirt, "And instead I find jackals! RUN!" He took a menacing step forward, and the circle began to break, "Go home and beg your fathers' forgiveness for you bring dishonor and shame upon HIS name!"

He sheathed his sword, and turned to the prone Ikoma Kato, the youth rolled away from him, cradling the wreckage of his nose. Ishii bowed to him, "Ikoma Kato-san, allow me to thank you for welcoming me back home." He paused, Toho-sensei was correct, in many things, "I am ashamed I did not have the opportunity, a year ago, to thank you for the lesson you taught me. I truly hope, that I have now, in turn, taught you the same lesson. A samurai's value to his lord, is in death, and only in death is the value of one's life revealed." He tossed the youth a rag, so he could wipe the tears and blood from his ruined face, "When next you seek death, ensure it is a death befitting your status." He bowed once more, "I look forward to our next bout Ikoma Kato, and seeing the man that I believe you can become."

Soon the road returned him to his father's estate, a large, sprawling affair as befitting a man of his rank. The gently rolling hills, surrounded by a low stone wall, perhaps only three feet high, however, as one approached the wall they would note that it was as thick as it was high, solid, and well rooted, the ground to it's exterior sloped away, adding to it's height and defensible position without marring the natural beauty of the landscape. Ishii nodded to his father's retainers who manned their posts, returning their greetings and their praise, speaking with some few of them by name. Arraigned on the exterior veranda, it appeared his aunt, Kitsue Hidéyo was hosting a tea ceremony with some few of his cousins, the matriarchs of the village, as well as their daughters.

When she saw her nephew, she called the young man over, as he approached the veranda he bowed, low to his aunt and her guests, "Konnichiwa Kitsue-sama, you honor the Akodo household with your presence, as always." Ishii was, as always, oblivious to the low-born gossip that surrounded his appearance, how imposing of a figure he cut, broad shouldered, strong jawed, well groomed, and well mannered. Several of the women were tittering behind their fans, much to the admonishment of his aunt, and her guests. She returned the bow, solemnly, but much more dignified, if only a slight nod to her nephew. "Akodo Ishii-kun, may I introduce you to ...," he did his best to remember the names, though he did remember his etiquette, bowing, and greeting each in turn, much to some of his admirer's amusement.

It was then that a furrow formed in his aunt's face, as her placid smile turned to a slight frown, before her courtier's mask fell back into place. She reached a hand to the lapel of his haori. She whispered, her voice low, so that her guests would either disregard, or miss entirely her statement, "Is this blood Ishii-kun?" She was interrupted by the sound of the shoji door sliding in it's grooves, his father, Akodo Kiyoshi stepped through.


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He nodded to his guests, the most informal of a bow, and approached his youngest son, before speaking with his sister, "But a peony petal that has landed on the child's haori, it is of no concern." The look of admonishment in his father's eyes was unmistakable, as was his inference that it was not a man who stood before him, but a child. "Akodo Kiyoshi-dono," the larger young man dropped reverently to his knees before kowtowing to his father. His father grunted an acknowledgement before excusing himself from the circle of women, "Saburo," he used the generic term for one's 3rd son in place of Ishii's name, another fact that the young man noted. "Attend me in my gardens." And with that the stern man walked the length of the veranda circling towards the rear of the house without entering back under it's roof.

As he followed his father he walked through the garden, as it were. On first appearances, it was austere, sparse, much like his father himself, however, when one entered his father's dojo at the rear of the main household, raised above the garden by several stone steps, one noted that the garden itself, and it's features, low walls, small streams, ponds, trees, and graven markers, was in fact a representation of the Lion lands in miniature. Manicured, and tended by Kiyoshi, with the same patient, disciplined manner which he devoted to everything of import in his life.

He slid the shoji open, allowing in the late autumn chill, removed his sandals, turned on knelt on the tatami, his daisho placed reverently to his left. He arranged his hakima carefully as he swept an arm to indicate a spot opposite him. "Sit saburo." Ishii nodded, removing his sandals, "Hai, father." He stepped carefully, removing his wakizashi and placing it to his left before he bowed to his father, his forehead touching the mats upon which he was seated.

"One of Ikoma Miyasaki's retainers brought news to our household this afternoon." It wasn't a question, "You are aware of this, yes." Another statement. Ishii shook his head, "No father, respectfully, I was not." Kiyoshi nodded towards his daisho, "Beside me sit my daisho, the katana and the wakazashi gifted to me by my own father when I completed by Gempukku. Tell me Ishii, have you faced your trials during your absence from this house?"

Ishii could only shake his head negative, he knew, as well as his father that he had not. "On that, then, we can agree. Your gempukku is still three month's hence, during winter court, is that correct?" Ishii bowed, "Hai, father!" "It is both a burden and a responsibility to carry the daisho, you know this. For they are a samurai's life, his soul, and he may be called upon to lay down his life for his lord, for his honor. That is a terrible cost, for a thing that is both right, and responsibility, to one's self, one's family, and one's lord." Again the young man nodded his agreement, "Miyasaki's son, Ikoma Kato, he is the one who brought shame and dishonor to this house, when he crippled you a year ago, correct?" He continued one without waiting for his son's response, he stared at the droplet of blood on his son's haori."Boys playing at being men, you brought shame to this house, and now you do so again."

This time he shook his head negative, "Ie, father. No." Kiyoshi's bushy eyebrow arched, he had not expected his son to disagree. Ishii continued under the cold glare of his father's eye, "Kato-san taught me a lesson, exposed a weakness of body, of spirit. A year I spent at your brother's household, under the tutelage of Matsu Toho-sensei, I learned the one thing a samurai must value, above all else." He took a deep breath, continued under his father's stern gaze,"The only reason a warrior is alive is to fight, and the only reason to fight is to win. The way of the warrior is the resolute acceptance of death." He continued on coldly, without emotion, "What happened today wasn't a duel, wasn't a bout, it was a battle, a fight. I had already won before he attempted to draw his sword. He made as if to attack, and I did not flinch, he looked away, to his allies, for support, confirmation, and at that point I had won. What followed was just the body teaching what the spirit knew."

His father appraised his son, the awkward, long limbed youth had been replaced by a man, strong of body, sound of mind, and with impressive depth of spirit. He nodded slowly, sagely. "It may be, Ishii-kun, that you are ready for your Gempukku." He reached into his own haori, and extended to his son a scroll, sealed with large drop of dull red wax upon which the Akodo mon had been impressed. "You have been accepted into the Akodo Budokai, with my blessing." He paused, "And you will bring honor to this house."

"Hai, father." He bowed, reverently, "I will, however, not be attending the Akodo budokai, I have been offered the opportunity to continue my training under Matsu Toho-sensei. I have the collected scrolls, kata, technique, and history of the Matsu style and philosophy." He paused, watching his father's face darken, "Matsu Toho-sensei has invited me to return to the budokai once my Gempukku is complete. Upon which I will continue with my training ...,"

"Matsu Toho-kun, is a common footsoldier, barely worthy of the status of samurai." His father's voice was steady, low and ice cold. "Hai, father! And without footsoldiers, who would the Akodo lead?" He struggled to control his emotions, and finally responded simply to his son. "You will compose two letters before we next speak, one to Ikoma Miyasaki, apologizing for your crude brawl with his son, and the second to this Matsu Toho, informing him of your decision to attend the Akodo budokai. It is my right to sponsor one student for admission, and I will do so." He spun to leave, "So see it done."


To the most Honorable Historian Ikoma Miyasaki;

It is my regrettable duty to inform you of the actions which led to the injuries your son received on this, the 13th day of Shinjo. A year hence your son took the opportunity to remind me that a Samurai must be strong of both body, mind and spirit, a lesson for which I could never repay him. For the past year I served under my esteemed father's brother, Akodo Mashida, and was reminded by his retainers that I should be thankful for the lesson provided by your son, Ikoma Kato.

On my return, I encountered your son, and several of his associates, who wished to impress upon me their desire to pursue their martial studies. While my instruction may have been clumsy, or crude, it was, I believe, adequate to impress upon your son the need for mental acuity and spiritual strength to accompany his not unimpressive physical fortitude. In recompense for my inability to adequately thank your son for his earlier instruction, I wish to inform you that my father, Akodo Kiyoshi, is in the position to sponsor a single applicant for admission to the Akodo budokai.

It is my honor to be able to offer such an appointment to your son, Ikoma Kato, as repayment of my debt to your son for the lessons he so willing provided me, as a child.

With sincerest regard,

Akodo Ishii,
Son of Akodo Kiyoshi

[truemane]

"Jodan is the Stance of Fire. To stand Jodan is to bare
your soul and skewer the enemy's heart with fear.
She who stands Jodan quietly seeks only death."

Perhaps it was her Kitsuki training, or perhaps it was the fact that she had nine older siblings, but for someone as sheltered and inexperienced as she often claimed to be, Keiko was very knowledgeable about the ways of domestic politics.

She approached an important discussion as carefully as any general ever approached an entrenched enemy position. She would arrange the evening to be as free from care and turmoil as possible: there would be quiet, good food, pleasant conversation, physical relations, and only then would she lean up in bed and say 'Husband' (always Husband, these circumstances, never Ishii) 'We must speak, you and I.'

Ishii, half-jokingly, often chided her that she enjoyed dulling his wits before engaging in a battle of them. She would only laugh her musical laugh and say that topics of import should be brought up only after all of the bodily appetites had been satisfied. She claimed her logic was to be unclouded by anyone's hunger or frustration. Ishii sometimes joked that perhaps her appetite for the physical act of love was more a factor than her logic. To that she would only wink and laugh.

So it was: late evening, Kaede asleep, belly filled with food, head filled with laughter, in bed, after love, calm and serene.

"Husband," came her voice, quiet like a hummingbird's breath, "We must speak, you and I."

Ishii laughed. It was all he could do. "What must we speak of?"

And she smiled, and she said in a voice that might have been discussing ikebana: "Your cousin is trying to kill you."

And she laid it out against the backdrop of Ishii's shock and incredulity. On of Ishii's distant cousins was slightly superior to him in the Kyuden. His name was Takuro, and he was from a prominent family and had covered himself in glory at the Matsu School. His next promotion required unanimous support from several key people in the Kyuden. Ishii was one of them. He was well-regarded at court, and might have the support of the others. But Ishii was of the opinion that he was too reckless, too unhinged, to be of any real use to his Clan as a leader of men. Takuro seemed to feel that anger was a virtue and mistook belligerence and rudeness for authority. Ishii would not be recommending him. None of his had been discussed openly, but the answer was clear enough to anyone with eyes to see it.

"But that doesn't mean... can't mean..." Ishii stuttered, but Keiko hushed him.

"Listen, husband, listen."

And she noted how Ishii's unit had been volunteered for several patrols into heavily-entrenched bandit territory. And that Takuro had not been present or available for those patrols. And she noted how Takuro had started several emotionally explosive conversations when Ishii was present, conversations to which he knew Ishii's position, and knew that other samurai, also present, felt the opposite. And she surmised that he had been attempting to engineer a duel.

And she described how several heimin had been caught poisoning food. Ishii had known about this (it was not an unheard of occurrence), but did not know that one of her heimin retainers had made inquiries and all three of them had been in the kitchens that did not serve the daimyo's meals. But rather the soldiers where Ishii served.

"An uninformed spymaster may make that mistake once. Twice even. But even if they erred the third time, what are the chances they would err in the same direction all three times?"

But even with that he still couldn't imagine that a Lion, and a Matsu, could stoop to such childish tactics. Such underhanded, dishonourable means.

"Why would he go to such lengths, when all he need do is comport himself with honour and discipline?"

"Oh my sweet, beautiful husband," she said to him, in a tone he might take hard from another person on the earth, "He resorts to such precisely because he cannot comport himself with honour and discipline. It never occurs to him. To him, this is the honourable path."

Ishii could not imagine such a mindset. And could not imagine such a thing were true.

And could not imagine what he could be expected to do about it.

I wanted to have a look at Ishii and Keiko disagreeing on something, but this happened instead. So what does Ishii do? The guy is his superior, slightly, and there's not enough to force a samurai trial. And no one will care about his wife's "delusions."

So is she even right? Does he believe her? Does he act on it? And then what happens?

As always, you know where I am if you have questions.

[Zero Prime]

Akodo Ishii (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=22511371&postcount=5)
Void Points: 2 of 2
Wounds: 0
Wound Penalty: None.

His mind was in turmoil, yet he deigned not to allow such unfocused thoughts concern, or disconcert his loving wife, "Shhh," he hushed, "matters for the morning." He affected a broad smile, "For now, there is another path with which I intend to concern myself with," his thick calloused hands began to move across his wife's supple body. His lovemaking was both slow, and tender, unlike the thunderous passions of earlier that evening, instead his tender ministrations were like a gentle rain that fell upon her naked form, for he was determined to assuage her concerned thoughts by attending to her body, her mind, and her spirit.

However, in the dark of night, her gentle breathing beside him, his eyes were wide open looking at the ceiling of their bedchamber, however it was not the well crafted timbers, the tenjo, or the ranma which he saw. It was his cousin's face, bearded, menacing, and full of vitriol. And when Akodo Keiko awoke, her husband's futon, was empty and cold, the coverings piled lovingly across her own body to preserve her sleep.

After arranging herself for her day, as befitted her status as Ishii's wife, she set out to discover what was occupying her husband, concerned perhaps, for the manner in which he intended to use the insights she had shared with him last night. An unseemly flush rose to her cheeks as she thought of his response, he had intended to distract her from her concerns, perhaps distract himself as well. Curiously, after some gentle inquiry she was directed to the low fields which surrounded the Kyuden, with the assistance of Itagawa Noburo, one of her husband's most trusted retainers, she saddled a horse, and rode at a leisurely pace towards the low fields, where she saw a small party of Matsu Takuro's samurai gossiping amongst themselves like a collection of low-born geisha. She noted Noburo's back stiffen, even as his hand drifted towards his daisho, she turned and smiled, laying a delicate hand across his reigns, "Hold yourself Noburo-sama, we know not the cause of their derision." She smiled at the older man, the same infectious, disarming smile she used on her beloved husband when she sought to counsel patience. "Ignorance, after all is a trait to be admonished, not the cause of bloodshed, no?" The Itagawa bushi steeled himself, and nodded his agreement, however as the pair rode past the ignorant bushi of the Matsu household, they immediately noted the subject of their jibes.

Her husband's unmistakably broad back, bared to the morning sun, and spattered in mud, tending the rice fields beside his own heimin.

He had toiled in the fields for a week, had engineered the schedules of his own retainers so they too would aid him, it was a testament to the loyalty, and respect of his household that there had been only modest grumblings of dishonor and shame among his most loyal soldiers. However, Ishii maintained his stoicism in the face of adversity, had ignored the whispered questions within his own house, and the more barbed comments of his peers in the face of his decision. Keiko had tried to coax answers from his husband, yet, she knew he was resolved in his actions, and frustratingly perhaps, at times his decisions were his, and his alone.

A feast had been prepared for the coming of Matsu Yoshino-dono, Lion Clan Champion, however, in a incredulous maneuver, Ishii had ordered the Kyuden servants to serve himself and those of his household present, only the food which they themselves had harvested from the field. The food that had been prepared under his own roof, and so their servings were sparse, and lowly, compared to the repast that was laid before Matsu Yoshino, his guests, and the other lords of the Kyuden. Ishii, however, was certain that the social graces of those present would not permit them to question his decision until such time as the feast was cleared, and they turned their attention to matters which affected the Clan as a whole.

As he knew it would, when their repast was cleared, the Kyuden servants provided those in attendance with zabutons, or cushions, upon which the palace guests could recline, indicating their honored guest's desire to keep the meeting both comfortable, and informal. One of the Clan Champion's adviser's, however, asked the question that had clearly been on Yoshino-dono's mind. "Tell us, Akodo Ishii-kun," he smiled over his sake cup, reclining upon his cushion, "was the repast prepared by your own Daiymo so repugnant to you, that you chose to have both yourself, and your entire household feast upon thin congee?" He referred to, of course, to the rice gruel, or porridge, accompanied by sparse vegetables that they had been able to craft for those present.

Ishii set his own cup down, and looked poignantly to his cousin, Matsu Takuro, "Most honored guest, allow me to profess my most humble apologies if I gave cause for offense to yourself, or our most revered Lord, Matsu Yoshino-dono," he bowed twice, first to the adviser to whom he spoke, and to Matsu Yoshino himself. "The teachings of Shinsei instruct us that Rokugan is built upon the blood and bones of our ancestor's." He bowed again to the spirits of those past, whose actions formed the Empire as it now stood, "however, I feel as if I have failed their vision for our great Empire, and our Clan specifically." He paused, noting Takuro's face, who was expecting Ishii's support for his appointment. "I can only assume that Lord Yoshino-dono noted the host of Akodo bushi who rode along the highway to greet him was more prodigious in it's strength this year." He referred to, of course, the considerably larger host that had greeted their Clan Champion, owing in part, to the host of bandits who hid within the hills, that had long gone unattended.

"While our great Empire," again he bowed, "is built upon the actions, and the honor, of those who came before us," he held the eyes of Lord Yoshino, and did not waver, speaking with both conviction, and sincerity. "However, our revered society is supported on the backs of the Heimin, those who toil, and those who labor. Farmers, Laborers, Craftsmen, who provide us with food, with comfort, and with shelter." He inclined his head to those servants who wandered the hall, almost invisible amongst the lords, the ladies, the courtiers, and their bushi. "Recent events," he spoke of course of the continuing issue of banditry, which often preceded open revolution, "have made it clear," again a pointed look at Takuro, "to myself, at the very least, that ronin, and bandits are taking food from the mouths of those that labor for us, their lords. And are we not Samurai, bound to the concept of Bushido in *all* aspects of our life?!" He began to stand, impassioned, "Chugo demands duty and loyalty, to our Lords, our Daiymo, and our Emperor." He bowed, thrice, as he spoke of the stations above his own, "But what of those that look to us for protection, who provide for us our comforts; food, shelter?" He moved to the fusama, or sliding door, opening it, the veranda faced west, where the sun was setting upon the vast plains of the Lion holdings, already fires could be seen twinkling in the night. "As we dine in comfort, tonight, our Hinin, starve, the rice meant for their bellies stolen from their mouths by bandits, ronin, and worse."

He turned, to look at his Lords, "Jin commands me to listen to their plight, Gi instructs me to suffer as they do. They endure their plight, so they may continue to provide for me, for my household, tell me Yoshino-dono, in accordance with the precepts of Bushido, can I be expected to do any less?" His eyes swept across the room fierce, proud, and commanding.

"I, and those loyal to me, have been toiling in the fields beside the Heimin. Sacrificing our personal honor, our glory, while protecting the unwritten compact between the laborer and their lord. Our men, working the fields, can raise arm quicker to protect those who provide, and thereby stop the banditry before they have a chance to steal food from the mouths of those who would provide for us."

He swept his arm across the horizon, not looking at the Lords to which he spoke, "Tell me, can we do any less?"

A year from his impassioned speech, there had been debate and discourse concerning his actions; for he had blatantly shamed his superiors, and his peers into action whie in the presence of Lord Matsu Yoshino. However, the Lion Clan Champion had been impressed with the young samurai's resolute acceptance of bushido, and his loyalty, not only to his Clan, but to the oft overlooked heimin, who supported, and provided for, the Lion. With a nod of respect for Ishii, Yoshino-dono excused himself from the dinner, and Ishii's superiors argued, bitterly, but in time they too pledged their retainers to follow the path set by Akodo Ishii.

A year that Ishii and his retainers toiled in the field, side by side with the heimin who supported them. A year the leadership of the Kyuden instructed their retainers to do the same, a year before the banditry that plagued the fields surrounding the Kyuden was crushed and broken.

He stared at the simple timbers that had been arraigned in a complex pattern of the healing house's tenjo, intricately drawing the viewer's eye towards the center. There was a soft sound of the shoji sliding in it's trestle. Lord Matsu Yoshino stood at the threshold, curiously enough, alone, before inclining his head slightly, "May I enter Akodo Ishii-kun?" His eyes wide, for the visit was entirely unexpected, Ishii struggled to rise from the tsukeshoin he was knelt at, composing a letter. His side still pained him, and it was an awkward bow, but performed with sincerity, "Of course Lord Matsu-dono." He was suddenly grateful for the incense the healers kept alight, to mask the smell of soiled bandages, the stink of blood, infection and worse, which oft pervaded the house of healing.

Yoshino smiled, as he crossed the threshold, "While travelling past a tea house, I could already hear a song singing of a Red Rain under the River of Stars, your heinin already sing of the battle." Ishii controlled his response, it was embarrassing, and given Lord Yoshino's disciplined countenance, he was unable to determine if the fact moved the Champion to praise, or ridicule. "I wish my Lord would have informed me of his coming, I am unseemly." Yoshino-dono only shook his head, a grim smile on his face, "Do you think I have not witnessed these self same walls countless times Ishii-kun? I know, intimately, the aftermath of battle." "Hei, my Lord." It was the only response he could give, though his Lord's mere presence rose questions. "They say, Ishii-kun, that you were transfixed upon Yoshimura Kenshin's yari." He spoke, of course, of the self proclaimed Bandit General, whom Matsu Takuro had slain. Yoshino-dono did not wait for the bushi's response, "They say you pulled yourself along the shaft until you could grasp his arm in a perfectly executed Juji Gatame," or cross lock arm bar, a basic jujitsu maneuver allowing an attacker to immobilize his opponents arms, "allowing Matsu Takuro to perform the killing stroke."

Ishii nodded his head, "It is as you say." Yoshino-dono held the young Akodo's eyes, "why then did *you* not take the killing stroke?" Ishii had not expected this line of inquiry, "I--, Matsu Takuro-sama was in a better position to do so, my lord." He stammered his response, and immediately his Lord saw that the response was, while accurate, insincere. "And now you draft a letter of support for the appointment denied him one year ago?" He bowed deeply, again, "I do." Yoshino-dono nodded, lowering himself to a seated position, reclining amongst the zabuton, or cushions present in the small room. "May I be frank, Ishii-kun?"

"If it please my lord." He quickly responded. "Matsu Takuro is not the most temperate of men, nor is he the most qualified for the appointment you now recommend him for." Ishii could not restrain himself, he barked laughter, though it cost him a flaring of pain at his side, "Are all Matsu this direct, both in battle, and conversation?" The ghost of a smile flickered across Yoshino's face, "How so?" Memories of Matsu Toho-sensei filtered through Ishii's thoughts, "I was a boy when a grizzled Matsu once asked me, What are Rokugani, if not slavering wolves in silk kimonos?" It was Yoshino-dono's turn to laugh, and Ishii could see the soldier in his Lord, as he relaxed, "So allow me to ask you something my Lord, does it really matter which wolf is appointed?" The moment of relaxation faded, as Ishii could see Yoshino begin to analyze the situation, "So tell me Ishii, why should I accept your support, and offer your cousin such an appointment."

"My Lord, Matsu Takuro is now hero to the heinin, as you heard they sing his praises. Perhaps with lesser men praising his worth, he will, in time, realize it himself." Yoshino's stern eyes held Ishii as he spoke softly, "Lesser men need the praises of others, one should know his own worth." Ishii bowed, "While this is true, I have spent a year toiling in the soil, I have planted seeds, and I have watched them grow. I have harvested them, so that I, and my household may prosper." He considered his words carefully, "Kyuden, though of strategic import, is not fertile soil."

Another smile, however slight, broke those Yoshino's stern composure, "You speak of Akodo Keiko, your honored wife?" He could only bow, "I do." He watched his Lord's face, wary of any change in temperance, "This appointment, it would provide Matsu Takuro with both influence and power, how can I be assured that he will not abuse such, as lesser men are wont to do?" Ishii nodded, having had to argue this very point within his mind before coming to his decision. "The Heinin view him as hero my Lord. He slew Yoshimura Kenshin, the bandit general who had preyed upon them for years." Yoshino could but nod his assent, prompting the young Akodo to continue, "Should his temperance cause him to betray their trust, those who sing your praises are the quickest to turn on you, should their faith be broken."

"I see." Was Lord Matsu Yoshino's only response. "I trust you will recover well, however, I would warn you, Matsu Toho-sensei was wrong, for it is not a wolf seated before me. But a lion."

It was late at night, and though his side ached with the coming of winter, he turned to his wife, her jet black hair damp with earlier exertions. "Wife," he smiled in the darkness, "we must speak you and I."

Keiko laughed. It was all she could do, "What must we speak of?"

In a solemn voice he spoke, "My cousin sought to kill me."

Her eyebrow raised, as he continued, laying it out for her. "And so I raised him up, in the eyes of his lessers, in the eyes of his peers, and in the eyes of our Lord." She looked at him, her hand gently tracing the hard callouses of his hand, "To what end, husband?" He shook his head slowly, "A man raised to such a height must weigh his actions, either he remains balanced, between temperance and violence, or he falls." He paused, "And given Lord Matsu Yoshino's acceptance of his appointment, should he fall, it will likely be upon his own sword."

"And what of us."

"As I said to Yoshino-dono," her eyes widened, she had not heard of a private audience, "Kyuden is not fertile soil." His hand withdrew from hers, and raised to her face, to gently trace the graceful curve of her jaw, and her neck with a thick, calloused finger. "For a year I toiled in the soil Keiko, I planted seeds, watched them grow, and we, as a household reaped that benefit." He smiled in the dark, "But I am a greedy man, and that is not enough." His hand traced down her body, until his fingers spread across her flat stomach, "A man needs to place down roots, to plant the seeds of his own family."

[truemane]

"Jodan is named the Falcon's Beak. To stand Chodan is to strike as the falcon: swift, sudden, and irrevocable."


The Lion have a saying. They claim it comes directly from the Little Teacher, from Shinsei himself, and they say it proves he knew their ways well and respected them. The fact that no writing records him saying it, and that no other Clan ever says it, does not deter them. He said it for them, they claim, he said it just for them. Say what you like, but the Lion know it to be true.

They say that war is a long, long road.

Among the Lion, whose lives are touched by war perhaps more often, and in more ways, than anyone's, it is common to evoke this single teaching in a dizzying variety of circumstances. A housewife about to embark on a long day of errands. An eta enduring some new indignity. A samurai with a harsh master. A master with an itinerant vassal. A bright young soldier on his way to battle. A broken old soldier on his way home.

The monk, the mason, the merchant, all of them, any of them, when gazing down upon a future filled with effort and toil with scant promise of rest at the far end, will say it. War, they will say, is a long, long road.

If that were so, then Ishii's war never ended. For Ishii's life was a road. And his road was a war. And oh, it was long. So long that not only could he not see its ending, but looking backwards day after tiresome day, he could not even say he'd moved.

Keiko had been his milestone. His wayfinder. Kaeda was now his map, but she could only show him the land. Not the way home.

Ishii had been a Road Warden for what seemed like a long, hard, dusty lifetime. Of walking the spaces between his real life. Of running from something he could not name and running toward something he could not understand. Of fruitless conflict and meaningless labour. Of stultifying boredom scarred by instant lethal danger.

A lifetime's worth of walking. Of hiding. Of festering pain. And although the time was filled with the howls of wind and the curses of bandits and the prattling of bushi, left Ishii with the overwhelming memory of silence. A silence so great and so vast and so deep that he didn't even notice it was there until Kaeda, ever her mother's daughter, broke it for him.

He was visiting a large village on a hill near the bend of a river. The village had grown prosperous from trade and the samurai who ruled there had requested, and been granted, permission to raise a small force of ashigaru to defend themselves from ronin. And, since the post of Headman of that village was hereditary, and almost meaningless, the samurai had little idea how to raise or train or equip such a force.

Ishii was to aid him. Just another worthless, dusty step on the long, long road.

He had been welcomed by the entire village and housed in quarters separate from the village. Small and comfortable. Just enough room for himself, Kaeda and their few servants.

They were sitting down to breakfast on their first morning. She had been unusually quiet as they arrived. Through the ceremony. The day and night that followed. She could generally be trusted to fearlessly question everything and to revel in the attentions that a cute, smart, self-possessed little samurai girl could get from an entire village of admirers.

But she had 'made strange' and hid her face and remained quiet.

He watched her as she played with her food.

She looked up.

"Father-sama," she said with more formality than usual, "I want to go home."

Despite his unease, Ishii tried to smile an easy smile. "But Kae-chan, we are home. This is home for at least the season. Perhaps even through winter."

She fell silent again. Her brow furrowed in thought as though she were trying to articulate something that she just couldn't bring into focus.

"Father-sama," she said again, "I want to go home. Where Mommy is."

And with that large tears gathered in her eyes and she looked down at the floor and blushed, as though ashamed of them.

"I want Mommy, Father-sama. Please?"

Okay. Here we go. What does Ishii tell her? What has he already told her? What will be left unsaid? I've left her age vague so you can tailor your response to whatever you think is the most interesting.

I constructed this scene this way, for you, on purpose because you're so very good at placing Ishii in the context of his life, and you spread your story out into the setting effortlessly. But none of that will help here.

This just a father, and a grieving child who doesn't understand. And it's his job to try to make it all okay.

Let me know if you have any questions.

[Zero Prime]

Akodo Ishii (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=22511371&postcount=5)
Void Points: 2 of 2
Wounds: 0
Wound Penalty: None.

Ishii gently placed down his utensils, arranging them perfectly beside his bowl of rice. He reached across the low table at which he and his daughter had been sharing their meal, and placed a large, calloused finger under her chin, forcing her wet eyes to face his own. "Do you remember the ceremony at Bishamon Seido, Kaedé-ko? As the shugenja chanted their prayers to guide your mother's spirit to Yomi you stood beside me, and you gripped my finger, fiercely, my little lion. Your grandfather, Kiyoshi cleared his throat, and you moved your arm as if to wipe your tears, what did you do child?" His finger slipped back to his side, as he held his daughter's eyes.

"I-," she was ashamed then, as now of her tears, "I made to wipe my eyes, it was making grandpa angry." She paused, remembering that difficult moment. Her brow furrowed, deep in thought, "but you stopped me."

Ishii nodded to his daughter, "And do you know why I stopped you?" His daughter shook her head slowly, "No otōsan." Ishii nodded again, "It was because your father could not. And while your tears made your grandfather uncomfortable, your mother would have understood."

As he spoke to his daughter, Ishii's mind raced along path's that he had barred for months, perhaps years. Memories arose unbidden, and threatened to overwhelm him. His brow furrowed, and his closed his eyes to focus through the welling grief in his chest, which struck him as painfully as Yoshimura Kenshin's yari those years ago, during the battle of the Red Rain.


The room was small, dark, and the stone walls were confining. His wife was laid out upon a raised platform, naked, her flesh pale, the wounds upon her body, brutal, severe, despite the eta's care in closing them so she would appear as she did in life. Ishii had driven them out, he did not need to bark orders, his size, his grief, his rage, scared them, they left of their own accord. His hands shook, but this, THIS, was the task for a husband, not some eta who did not know, did not honor, did not love her. He washed her body with the cold, cleansing salt water, removed any stain of battle or violence from her visage. He arraigned her hair, brushing it for one last time, holding it with pins and combs. He knew them intimately, for they had been gifts he had provided his wife, she was not one for ornamentation, perhaps it was her austere upbringing among the mountains, but she cherished her hair, long, and black as night.

And that was how his father found him, brushing his deceased wife's hair, eyes wet with grief. "Ishii-san! Where are the eta? Why?" Ishii's eyes snapped up, "SILENCE!" The roar echoed through the small chamber, his father was taken aback, stumbled a half step before regaining his composure, "This is beneath you, beneath our family. I will have the eta killed, that they may never speak of this. It is ...," he stammered at a loss for words, "unseemly." Ishii stalked across the room, silently, his face a mask of pain, of loss, and rage. "No, father, you will not." Ishii paused, collected himself, "It is my duty as her husband to prepare her for her journey to Yomi, the realm of the honored dead." "No, Ishii-san, it is not, your grief has driven you mad. Her spirit is gone, that," he pointed to Keiko's corpse, "is just a shell ...," Ishii's voice interrupted him, he advanced another step pinning him to the wall, preventing his escape, "And tell me father, after your precious tea ceremony, the tea, consumed by you and your guests, do you smash the cup, shatter the kettle, or do you reverently pack them away, despite the fact that they are empty, and their purpose has past?!" "Ishii," the command in his father's voice was unmistakable, "it is a corpse, dirty, and unclean, it is --," the blow rang clear.

His father staggered dazed, it had been open handed, no blood had fallen, though he would sport an unseemly bruise at his daughter's funeral ceremony scheduled for the following day. Ishii's voice shook with barely restrained hatred, "You will not speak of my wife in such a way." He turned to look at her, tears still blurring his eyes, "Not in her presence." His father nodded his acquiescence, "No Ishii, we shall not speak of this, or any other matter ever again."

His daughter's incessant tugging at his sleeve brought him back to the present, she had come around the low table to his side, he turned to face her as she looked up and asked her question, "But why father, why couldn't you cry?" She looked sad, her eyes red from their tears, but her curiosity had returned, "Because, Kaedé-ko, now man may weep for the their beloved while their killer still walks the earth." Again, a curious pause, "Tell me father," he nearly laughed at how much she sounded like her mother with that comment, "didn't you fight a duel with him, I remember Uncle Eiji telling me it had cost you a great deal." Ishii nodded, "I did, and it did."

She hugged her father, crawling into his lap, and wrapping her small arms futilely around his massive chest, "So we can cry now?"

He gently stroked her hair, "Not yet child, but soon."

"Why?"

"First, there is something we must discuss." She nodded, crawled off of his lap, and knelt as though at the feet of her teachers. "What is that father?"

"Your mother's spirit has departed, her ashes have been interred with the Dragons, among whom she was born. But tell me Kaedé-ko, do you know where your mother is?" The young child merely shook her head, "She waits for you, for us, in Yomi the realm of the honored dead. A realm untouched by death, by war, by famine, or by disease." She merely nodded, whispering a soft question, "Is it pretty there?" Ishii nodded, "As beautiful as the setting sun over the Ikoma Plains," he replied softly. "I think she'd like that." He smiled, "As do I, little one."

She looked up at her father, "Can we go to her?" He nodded, "In time," he took a deep breath and continued, "The lion have a saying Kaedé-ko, do you know what it is?" She furrowed her brow, "They have os many, how am I supposed to know?" "Ha!" He could not restrain the laugh, how she so reminded him of her mother. "War is a long, long road." She frowned, "What does it mean father?"

"Yomi is the land of the honored dead Kaedé-ko, your mother waits for us there, but we, the living, cannot meet her until the end." He paused, and looked at Kaedé, holding her eyes, filled with a curiosity and intelligence that surely came from her mother. "Do you remember Saisho no yoru no matsuri, the festival of the 1st night, that you were so excited for?" A smile brightened the young girls face, "And do you remember Kaedé-ko, how you wished to walk through the market, and see the merchants, and watch the puppeteers?" She nodded, "And what did your mean father make you do?" She stated quickly, "You made us take a path up a hill that overlooked the village." He nodded, "I did. And we missed the merchants, and the puppeteers didn't we, it wasn't until sunset that we came to the top of the bluff, was it." She smiled, "Yes, and you started a fire to warm us," he nodded. "And Kaedé, do you remember complaining how your feet hurt, and you were missing the festival." She nodded, glumly. "And tell me, do you remember the joy, and the shouts you made when at the height of the festival they released the paper lanterns into the sky?" She clapped her hands, "Yes father I do!" He smiled, "And how those lanterns floated over head, so close we could nearly touch them?" She nodded at the memory.

"You and I miss your mother, and our hearts ache, like your feet did on that day, but would you trade your memory of that night, so that your feet didn't ache?" Her little face scrunched up as she weighed her options, before shaking her head, "I don't think so father." He nodded, "Our path is long Kaedé-ko, and our hearts will ache, but in the end we will return to your mother in Yomi, and delight in sharing the memories of our journey with her."

Kaedé looked sad, and this time Ishii bent to her his face stern, "You ask me where home is Kaedé, think on this. We built a home in Kyuden Ikoma, it's walls were thick, and it was a fortress, and yet an army stormed it's walls and in the end it fell." He paused before speaking, softer this time, "We build our home here," he reached out and touched his daughter's heart, and then her forehead, softly, gently, "in our hearts, and in our minds. For no man can storm it's walls, and we carry it with us where ever we go. And within it's walls we can protect those cherished memories, make those our home, your mother's voice, her soft touch, the lanterns of Saisho no yoru, and moments like this."

"Like this?"

And with that Ishii scooped his daughter into his arms, and held her tight as he let himself cry.

[truemane]

"Jodan is violence. Power. Blood. Jodan has but one purpose: killing. Jodan has but one outcome: death."

The life of a Roadwarren was a lonely one. The days long. The roads endless. The toil seemingly without surcease or purpose. It was like pushing a rock up a hill only day after day to watch it roll down again. The only bright spot in his days was his daughter, and the distractions that his duties brought.

But when the sun set? And his daughter was asleep? And his duties complete? And the night air closed in upon him like a shroud? And there was no sleep in him? What then?

What then?

Sometimes. Not always, not often, but sometimes, he would check to ensure his daughter was sound asleep, and that there was someone awake to watch her, and he would go to whatever excuse for an inn existed in whatever village he was in.

That night, it so happened that his duties took him to a sizeable village (almost a town really) and so right in the middle, a short walk from his rooms, there was a large inn. It was what the locals called a Willow House: a large, multi-story building that was open all hours and in which all manner of distraction could be found.

Ishii wandered in.

This late it was mostly heimin. Some farmers. Some artisans. Some merchants. Stopped in for the day after their own duties were finished. There were only about a half-dozen samurai scattered throughout the main rooms, being given a wide berth by the heimin. From what Ishii could see, they appeared to be Mantis. And, unless he missed his guess, they seemed like sailors. Rough men, not entirely uncultured or unmannered, but loud and boisterous. They seemed to be telling a story about a battle, a recent battle, involving an ambush and some bandits. There was a lot of talking over one another and interrupting and laughter.

"And then he said to the leader I'll hand you my gold when you can bend over and smell the stink of your own ass!"

Roaring laughter and pounding tables.

But the warmth and camaraderie of their gathering didn't reach as far as Ishii's lonely table.

And then, from beside him, Ishii heard a voice, strong and sure, but tinged at the edges with drink. He looked over and saw a tall samurai wearing a rumpled kimono with a Yoritomo mon. He looked as though he'd been in a fight recently. His face as bruised. There were several cuts along his neck and chest that had clearly only seen field dressing. But for that he looked as though he were in a good mood.

"Akodo-san, may I sit? For it has been a long, long day."

Okay! Final Prologue scene. This is a typical PbP scene. You post, I post, you post. You control only Ishii, but as this has all 'already' happened you don't need to roll anything. Just respond as you will, and we'll go through your recruitment.

Let me know if you have any questions.

[Zero Prime]

Akodo Ishii (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=22511371&postcount=5)
Void Points: 2 of 2
Wounds: 0
Wound Penalty: None.

As the man approached, Ishii remained unmoved, his eyes locked straight ahead in a stare that could see a thousand yards. However, in his travels he had trained himself to observe that which cannot be seen by the eye alone, and so even as he moved from behind his broad shoulders, he was aware of the stranger's presence, and once he stepped towards the table he assessed his countenance, his stance, his injuries, before coming to a conclusion.

He did not stand to greet this stranger, and gave him the barest of nods, "It would be rude of me to deny an injured man the opportunity for rest; almost as rude as a man addressing a stranger by name." He reached towards the small earthen jug that sat center on the table, and poured the man a drink, sliding it across the table. "Sit, in my household it was often said that war is a long, long road. Drink, for tomorrow that road will be no less long, and the war, of no less import."

Akodo Ishii was nothing, if not cautious, he knew full well that he had earned the ire of his peers, and some lesser men may well think to earn some status by removing what his superiors would consider a blight upon their families honor, and so, an astute man would note that the cup was offered with his left hand. His right still folded formally in his lap, within easy reach of his daisho.

[truemane]

The man sat down (almost, but not quite, fell down) on the nearest cushion. His eyes rested on Ishii's readied daisho and Ishii thought he caught the ghost of a smile. He sketched a sitting bow. "Apologies to you, Akodo-san, but I spoke not your name, but your family's. Among my people we use such as titles, and no disrespect meant or offered. But let me offer recompense."

He waved one of the servants, who brought a bottle of their very finest sake, perfectly warmed, and served two cups.

The man raised his.

"My name is Tenjin. Yoritomo Tenjin. I thank you for the company. Might I have the honour of your name, that we might have no bad blood between us?"

[Zero Prime]

Akodo Ishii (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=22511371&postcount=5)
Void Points: 2 of 2
Wounds: 0
Wound Penalty: None.

There was something about the man seated across from him that appealed to Ishii, he was reminded of the brusk demeanor of Matsu Toho-sensei, a cultivated disregard for the civilities that pervaded Rokugani society. He accepted the second drink with a nod, "Ishii," he grunted before taking a drink, he raised the empty cup in two hands to the level of his forehead, and bowed to his guest, "Akodo Ishii."

He placed the cup down, nodded towards the table of bushi, already well into their cups, "Tell me Yoritomo-san, your men boast of an ambush," he raised one bushy eyebrow as he surveyed his guest's face, "your face tells the same tale. Was this encounter recent?"

[truemane]

The man returns the bow and drinks. And then re-fills both cups without waiting for the servant girl to return. He picks his back up and sips.

He makes a slightly sour face at Ishii's address. "Hm. Just Tenjin, please, Akodo Ishii-san. Tenjin-san if you must. No part of this evening possesses such gravity that we needs must invoke the name of my ancestors."

He nodded and smiled broadly at his question. "Ya! New minted in fact! No more than a day past. We stopped here to celebrate still being alive. My samurai are sailors by trade and vocation, but they acquitted themselves admirably. And it was a surprisingly string showing."

He paused and leaned forward.

"Tell me, Akoko Ishii-san, do you know these lands well? Are there many such groups of bandits and ronin to vex the unwary?"

[Zero Prime]

Akodo Ishii (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=22511371&postcount=5)
Void Points: 2 of 2
Wounds: 0
Wound Penalty: None.

Ishii nodded his head as his guest confirmed that he, and his men, had suffered an encounter with the bandits that plagued the roads leading to Kuda Mura, a sprawling village that was able to sustain the surrounding province, as well as the ashigaru of the garrison stationed there. The Gunso, Itagawa Majime, who was tasked with protecting the lush, green fields, and bountiful rice paddies, was more concerned with her personal honor, rather than her duty to her Clan.

As such the ashigaru under her command were undisciplined, it had fallen to Ishii, to bring remind the Gunso, and her troops of the loyalty, honor and discipline required of the Akodo Army. While he technically Ishii was outranked by a Gunso, his mandate accorded certain authority over Itagawa and her troops, though tenuous and open to interpretation.

As Tenjin spoke, so too did Ishii's face tighten, as he nodded in response to the question."I am a road warden, assigned to evaluate and train the local garrison's to ensure they field worthy, able to answer the Daimyo's call to arms, when it should come." He paused, turned his emptied cup upside down, "A man once asked me, What are Rokugani besides slavering wolves in silken kimonos? Is it then, any surprise that the curs such as these bandits, these ronin, follow in our wake, feeding on our scraps, for by our very nature we ensure that there are well fed. A well fed curr, will, in time grow bold."

"You have my sincerest apologies Yoritomo Tenjin-sama, for I have failed to adequately prepare the ashigaru garrison responsible for the safety of those who would travel along Lion Clan highways. In so doing I have forced guests to our land to both bleed, and draw blood while under the protection of the Lion."

The last he said from a low bow, kow towed so that his forehead touched the back of his hands.

[truemane]

A small but distinct expression of displeasure crossed Tenjin's face when Ishii called him sama but he said nothing. He nodded to accept the explanation and the apology.

"Akodo Ishii a roadwarden? The son of Akodo Kiyoshi and Ume? Graduate of the Matsu school? Slayer of Moto Kaii? Husband of Kitsuki Keiko? A roadwarden? But perhaps you are the man to hunt bandits. For who else but Akodo Ishii the Roadwarden could know the mind of a man who chooses to toil far beneath his worth?"

His voice is calm and even, almost provocatively so. He was drunk. Perhaps drunk enough to excuse a loose tongue. Or perhaps drunk enough to try to excuse a loose tongue.

[Zero Prime]

Akodo Ishii (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=22511371&postcount=5)
Void Points: 2 of 2
Wounds: 0
Wound Penalty: None.

He straightened from his bow, his eyes wary. This stranger before him, knew the story of his life, mentioned events both personal and private, and in conclusion seemed to judge the worth of Ishii's life. As he straightened to a sitting position, his knees bent, however, almost imperceptibly slow, his right foot rotated so that his toes had purchase on the tatami, and were coiled to throw him forward in the event he was forced to draw from a seated position. The Kakita's studied Iajitsu, and oft focused on the duel, the draw from a standing position, in relation to your opponent's stance, and stride, however, when a Lion studied Iajitsu, it was so he could draw in the space between breaths, from any position, so as to negate an opponent's advantage, due to stance and stride.

"A man's worth," Ishii almost laughed, "is an illusion, known, only, to one's self; revealed upon his passing from this life." He paused, reflected on his own road, and proceeded with some degree of caution, the man before him was armed with knowledge of his opponent, while Ishii, himself, was not. "There is a wisteria tree (https://www.boredpanda.com/largest-wisteria-bloom-japan/), older than your years and my own, combined. It stands guard to a small bridge when you enter Kuda Mura from the East road. It's trunk is twisted, however ten ashigaru could not touch hand to hand were they to circle it. It's highest branches reach into the sky, so high, in fact, were those selfsame ashigaru to stand on one another's shoulders, they would not surpass it's height."

A smile crept across his face as he remembered Kaedé's look of wonder as they walked beneath it's hanging blossoms when first they arrived at the village. "It's pink and purple blossoms hang from it's branches in long vines, filtering the light of the sun, so that standing beneath it one is awash in it's beauty; one's nostril's filled with its fragrance." He slowly moved his hand to his hatori, moved in such away that Tenjon would know he did not reach for hilt, or blade, and slowly he produced a lavender flower, pressed in translucent rice paper. "Given me by my daughter, as she ascended that ancient sentinel's highest boughs, while her father addressed the garrison's Gunso, and the ashigaru she commands."

He placed the flower on the table between them, "Had I toiled to another's estimation of worth, I would be sequestered within a Lord's fortress, or his Court, and my daughter would be raised by attendants or nurse maids, only to see her father when his Lord allowed. This flower, opportuned by my position as road warden, has more value to me, than all the koku in some Lord's coffers."

He took a breath as he continued, his eyes still evaluating the man before him. "Do not seek an easy life, Tenjin-san, seek the strength to endure a challenging one. In this way you will discover your own worth in this, the floating world."

[truemane]

A moment's silence followed Ishii's answer. And then Tenjin laughed. It was rare for adult Rokugani (even drunk ones) to show more amusement than pressed lips or chuckled. But Tenjin threw his head back and laughed, long and loud. A old Lion courtier looked over from his conversation with a merchant and frowned in disapproval.

After a moment he returned his gaze to Ishii and, drunk or not, the Lion would have sworn they were as clear and sharp and aware as any he'd ever seen.

"Just so!" He said, mirth in his voice and in his face, "Just so, Ishii-sensei. The only accounting that matters a damn is my own. And the only judgement I should fear is my own. I should not seek the easy life nor the regard of others."

He leaned forward, but not too far. His eyes flicked down to the katana held close to hand and leaned only a bare few inches.

A pause.

"But the scorn of others is as poor a rudder as their praise. And just as seductive. And I say that if you," he struck one single finger to the table a near Ishii, "Truly followed the errant stirrings of your own heart and listened to the whispered chords of your own honour, you would not be the sequestered puppet of nursemaids and hangers-on. You would be the lord of your Lord's fortress, feared and respected, and your daughter would come when you called for her and none would dare gainsay you. For however strong their wills, yours would be stronger. And however sour their faces or toxic their judgement, you would do what you felt you must."

The pointing finger lifted, struck again closer to Ishii.

"But nor would you be a roadwarden. For no matter how many pretty stories you tell me of the wonders you have found and the services rendered and obstacles overcome and burdens born, you know, you know, that a lesser man could do the same with ease. You know, you know, that you have greater gifts than this. You know that a gift is like a rice paddy and every one that lies fallow is, more than a waste, an insult."

The finger lifts off the table and he points at Ishii, jabbing forward. Tenjin's voice has lost all of its mirth now. He is serious. Deadly serious. Ishii cannot see his other hand but he is pretty sure from its position beneath the table that he holds his katana's hilt as well.

"You know, and that knowledge is not deep down and faraway, but right beneath the skin, for warriors like you and I bury all our truths in very shallow graves, you know that you were meant for more than this."

He seems to notice his pointing finger for the first time and pauses a moment, makes a fist, takes a breath, and moves the hand to his lap.

"And so. I say to you, Ishii, I say to you, do not seek an easy life. Seek the strength to endure a challenging one. In this way you will discover your own worth in this floating world of tears. For you know that the wisteria grow on the paths of both he who strives and he who quails, and while each may arrive home with blossoms, only one will sleep well."

[Zero Prime]

Akodo Ishii (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=22511371&postcount=5)
Void Points: 2 of 2
Wounds: 0
Wound Penalty: None.

As Tenjin spoke, Ishii's eyes narrowed, and as he concluded he gave a terse nod of his head.

"A man's choices are made, and so, to, are the consequences of those choices given both function and form." He paused, leaned forward and spoke in a low, controlled manner, his words meant for Tenjin, and Tenjin alone.

"I have placed my own desire's ahead of both clan, and family. The life of my wife and our child ahead of my own father, my brothers. The memory of my wife ahead of my own blessed ancestors." He poignantly placed his finger down on the table between them, as though counting off the branching paths of fate that had brought him to this place. "That," he paused, looked around the Inn before his eyes returned to Tenjin's, "is the path that led me here, and that is the path I have chosen to walk, the path created by choices I freely made."

He locked eyes with the Mantis as he spoke his next words, "I have expended the goodwill of my ancestors, my father, and my brothers. So tell me Yoritomo Tenjin-san, what goal should I strive towards, what goal would benefit the Akodo family, other than duty, no matter how low, as consequence of choices a man has wrought."

[truemane]

Tenjin drains his cup and lifts his hand to call for another bottle of sake. He sits back on his knees a little and relaxes. A little. His hand still lies below the table, but he no longer looks convinced that it needs to be.

"The thing about choices, Ishii-san, is that there is always another one around the corner. And what the Akodo need is not your duty. They have everyone's duty. What they need, from you, is another star in their firmament. What does the Little Teacher say? That we tell the tales of heroes to remind ourselves that we can also be great?"

A pause. A smile.

"Well, I wish to tell the tales of heroes with you. And with your daughter."

[Zero Prime]

Akodo Ishii (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=22511371&postcount=5)
Void Points: 2 of 2
Wounds: 0
Wound Penalty: None.

Despite his companion's smile, and easy nature, Ishii surveyed his position with care. While Yoritomo appeared to be intoxicated, it was a fact that sake did not affect those practiced in it's consumption to the same extent as one who was not. The fact remained that Ishii had allowed his attention to be drawn into the conversation, and that the half dozen Mantis soldiers appeared to be drunk on their prodigious appetites, but the truth of the matter could be far different from the perception. Yoritomo Tenjin appeared to be in Kuda Mura for the sole purpose of this meeting, for he came armed with information regarding Ishii's storied past that he should not have, had this truly been a chance encounter.

He paused as he surveyed his position, affecting his seating so that the table of Mantis sailors was more solidly present in his peripheral vision. However, his eyes did not waver from his drinking companions, "So not only is the esteemed Tenjin-san a samurai, a sailor, he is now, too, a scholar? Before either myself, or my daughter could tell a tale of heroes with such an esteemed personage as yourself, we would have to be released from our duty by the Daimyo himself." he paused as he spoke. He knew full well that the Matsu family valued stories of the hero rising above his station to perform great deeds, however his own family, the Akodo, valued the family, and the Clan itself above individual honor or glory, and their own tales were full of those who toiled and atoned, those who sacrificed personal want, and desire, placing family above themselves. "Akodo Shinjiro-domo assigned my task personally, atonement for placing my personal vengeance above my duty to both family, and clan. As the saying goes, War is a long, long, road, and so to is my path through atonement, to duty, status, and honor."

He held the eyes of Yoritomo Tenjin now, trying to evaluate whether the man before him was friend, enemy, or something else entirely. "So tell me Yoritomo Tenjin-san, what is this tale of heroes you seek to tell? For I rarely find such stories include the stink of a man's bowel's when you open his stomach, nor the samurai who pisses his hakama in fear, as a dying ashigaru defends a favored horse despite horrific injuries. I would know the truth of it, not the fantasy."

[truemane]

Tenjin smiles a rueful smile and takes a sip of his drink. "No poetry then. Very good. Let there be truth between us here, this night. And let fate bring what may."

He sits back. His hand still lies beneath the table but for the first time he looks actually relaxed.

"I have made a grave error," he said, his gaze even and direct, "And I have fallen into a trap. I have been cursed with the stewardship of a valley. The Sanmyaku Valley, far from the islands of my youth, far from my home and far from the seas and oceans where my heart has lived since my earliest memories."

He empties his cup. Refills.

"Such an honour cannot be refused, only endured. The land is coveted. Filled with conflicting interests and old grudges. Not a single member of my Clan or the Clan that saddled me with the gift has even the slightest belief that I will be able to rule in truth as well as in name."

He put down the cup. Put both hands on the table.

"I need your help to prove them wrong."

A pause.

"Fret not for your duty to your Clan. That can be managed. All that matters is whether you will swear an oath to me and follow me. Make no mistake. Our enemies will be many. Our resources few. Our perils exist on all sides and all fronts. All the katanas in the Empire are not sufficient to overcome them. You wish the truth? The real story? No poetry? The truth is we will wade in blood and lies. The truth is that death may be the kindest outcome, but victory is the only one I will accept. We will walk through manure but in the end we will stand, or die."

A longer pause.

"What say you?"

[Zero Prime]

Akodo Ishii (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=22511371&postcount=5)
Void Points: 2 of 2
Wounds: 0
Wound Penalty: None.

A furrow appeared between Ishii's thick eyebrows, as he concentrated on the man before him, not for the first time this evening attempting to determine whether the man was a threat to either himself, his daughter, or their future. However, despite his caution, he liked the man, his bold, brash demeanor fostered a sense of kinship, camaraderie within the Lion's chest.

"Tell me, is that glimmer I see within your eyes wisdom or madness, Tenjin-san?" He cocked his head slightly to the side, changing his perspective, and casting the side of his guest's face into shadow. "There is a path between the two as perilous as the edge of my daisho, sway too far to either side and the center is unrecoverable." He paused, considering the venture before him.

"You know of course that your offer is ludicrous? What man, with rank and station, now matter how low, would offer oaths of loyalty and fealty to a stranger? And surely a man of such renown as to be offered stewardship of the Sanmyaku Valley would not wish a man, so insincere that he did not display either caution or foresight is the giving of such a pledge."

He bowed slightly, "In two days hence my duties in Kuda Mura will draw to a close, the ashigaru under Gunso Itagawa will have been sufficiently reminded of the importance of their duty to their Clan, and the Empire. After you allow me to dispatch my duties with honor, I will accompany you to Shiro Akodo." He maintained eye contact with the large Mantis bushi, judging his reaction, "Once there you will make your petition for aid, a buntai of ashigaru, and I as military adviser. In recompense the Akodo will be provided with a compound within the valley proper, to be placed under the rule of Akodo Kaedé, upon my death."


OOC: A buntai is the equivalent of a squad, 10 to 40 men, mostly ashigaru, perhaps one or two bushi. As discussed in the Discord channel this could well be the pool of men at arms non-combative characters could draw on in the event Ishii isn't in a scene with them. Hopefully it isn't too presumptuous of an offer, but it does seem to address the question of current duty, and honor, at least to me. Look forward to the reply!

[truemane]

Whatever the glimmer is, Tenjin's eyes are alight with it here, this night. His body seems tired and his face seems grve but his eyes are filled with that slightly manic energy. "The paths of wisdom and madness share many steps, as you well know. And yes. The offer is insane. When a samurai faces the impossible, sometimes insanity ceases to be the problem and starts to be the solution."

He considers Ishii's offer for only a few moments, and Ishii gets the distinct impression that he is not so much weighing it as appreciating it. He nods and slams his cup down. "It is well. And to show my intentions are both sincere and in earnest, I declare that, upon my death, Akodo Kaede be granted right of passage across all Mantis lands and all Mantis waters, and with this a tenth part of all of the income of my personal fleet. She will always be welcome upon our waves. But if she chooses to remain with her people, she will have the means to make her own way and live by her own wit and will."

He looked at Ishii.

"It is well, then? Two days, and we shall go."