B
Boss Frost
Guest
Original poster
Honesty. Courage. Compassion. Courtesy. Sincerity. Duty. Honor.
In Rokugan, these are more than simply words.
In Rokugan, these are more than simply words.
It's been over one thousand years since the Day of Thunder, the day when the Kami's Lost Brother, Fu Leng, was defeated... all but one of the Thunders died that day defending Rokugan from him, in the area now known as the Shadowlands... The Shadowlands grow more and more powerful every day, and even the mighty Crab clan are slowly being forced to give ground. Dark days are being heralded...
Not that this has stopped the Clans in their attempt to pull power out from each other. Petty squabbling to all-out war throughout Rokugan between these Clans has Rokugan in a perilous position... though only the Crab know this, tight-lipped as usual.
This will play a great part in our tale of magic and samurai... but our story does not start there, on the battle between Law and Chaos... Good or Evil...
Our story starts miles and miles away from the Shadowlands, on a road in Lion lands that connects Renga Murai, a city constructed entirely of stone, and Tonfajutsen, where the smith Gozuki first developed a fighting style that turned farming implements into peasant weaponry.
It is early summer, and the warmth of the sun's rays is a delightful mix with the cool breezes that commonly pass through here. Most of this road is surrounded by flat farms, peasants toiling away even now, more than happy to stop and bow at passing samurai, and kind enough to ignore the odder passer-by.
Blessed be the farmers of Rokugan.
This is a merchant's trail, rough and worn with use, though very clean - the sky is clear and blue, and the smell of many farmers' wives cooking breakfasts is clear in the air this fine morning.
It's almost... too perfect to last...
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Bei decided that he liked it here.
It felt good to have the sun caress his luxurious red pelt, it felt good to feel a breeze that didn't threaten to blow him into the dirt. It felt good to step forward in his bare feet, with no fear of stepping on point rocks. It felt good to be 'free' in the world again...
...As for the farmers, it felt good to have them stop at funny looks before going back to work, rather than him having to explain himself to each person among the way.
A breeze passed by, rustling the green-and-brown outfit, which clearly clashed with his fur. The mon of the Dragon blazoned across his heart. For a moment, he stopped, looking up at the sky and thinking of his own 'Old Man'... taking the necklace of prayer beads from his neck, he clacked them in his hands, rehearsing teachings in his head as he walked down the path...
He'd not have as much freedom with the samurai as he did with the farmers. Monk or no, he enjoyed the peace that came with Truth, and the peace that came with those laborers around him accepting enough to remain indifferent.
He'd have a long way to do before he could feel comfortable resting again.
Once again, a breeze passed, as he walks calmy down the middle of the road, flicking a weighty prayer bead occasionally...