Rob Hobart

Campaign Fiction: Scenes from Rokugan, Summer 1502

This was the first of a series of fictions I posted that depicted the major highlights of the wars in the year 1503. Since I could not run Battle Interactives for all of these, I felt I should at least offer some dramatic perspectives on what was happening, rather than the players finding out solely from in-module "gossip sections."

Of course, this particular fiction also served a secondary role of ominous foreshadowing, by letting the players know that Hida Gojiro had stripped the Kaiu Wall's defenses in order to win his war against the Crane.

This fiction also killed off the top-finishing Crane and Crab candidates for Emerald Champion, originally seen back in Year One. The story of their final clash and mutual death was intended to be both epic and tragic, and seemed to go over well with the player-base.

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The Crane lands, Ichigun province, summer 1503

"Doji-sama?"

Doji Matsui turns his head, careful not to disrupt the work of the servant lacing up the ties on his armor. "Hai, what is it?"

The scout kneels in the entrance to his tent. "The Crab army has arrived, Doji-sama. It appears to be.. significantly larger than expected."

"What? How is that possible?" Matsui helps the servant finish tying knots. "Summon my officers at once."

"Hai, Doji-sama." The scout hurries out of the tent. Matsui follows him a few minutes later, tucking his daisho under his obi. His shireiken are already gathering outside; he gestures sharply to them before swinging onto his horse. The shaggy pony utters an unhappy snort as he spurs it into a gallop. The officers pull up on a low hillside, looking down into a grassy valley. Doji Matsui grunts to himself at his first sight of the Crab army, sprawled across the valley in a seething mass of dark gray and brick red. Scores of banners flutter in the light summer breeze.

"That is... at least twenty legions," one of the shireikan says after a moment.

"Impossible," Matsui shakes his head, trying to deny the reality in front of him. "They sent sixteen legions to the south, to attack the Yasuki lands. That would leave them only eight for this front. Did they countermarch?"

It is Daidoji Ketsura, the commander of the scouts, who answers him. "No countermarch. Look at the banners, my lord. The eighteenth Hida legion, the eleventh... those are Wall units." "They have stripped the Wall? Madness," one of the shireikan says.

Ketsura shakes his head. "Not madness. An intelligent gamble. The Shadowlands have been silent for years. I served on the Wall ten years ago, after my gepukku. We could have held it with one-third of the men we had."

Matsui clenches his hands, then unclenches them with an effort. "How did we not have warning of this, Ketsura-san? Did your scouts somehow miss that this army was more than twice the size we expected?"

Ketsura shakes his head. "They had Tsuru's Legion screening their flanks. We never got close enough to inspect them by sight until today. I offer my deep apologies, Matsui-sama. If you wish my seppuku I gladly offer it."

Matsui shakes his head. "That would be pointless, Ketsura-san. We shall need your skills for the battle. Afterward we can discuss responsibility."

The word "battle" seems to awaken the shireiken, and their anxious speculation suddenly fills the air.

"They could have sent this many south as well!"

"Perhaps even a third army, behind these?"

"Unlikely, they have only one Tsuru's Legion, how would they conceal it?"

Matsui cuts the chatter short with a raised hand. "The size and strength of the beast does not matter. It will still die when you cut off its head." Calm returns, as his words remind them of the way the Crane have won in the past, against far worse odds than these. "Prepare our troops to receive the Crab attack. They will surely charge in disorder once their commander is dead." The officers turn to their tasks, and he spurs his horse, then pauses. "Ketsura-san."

The scout commander pauses and turns. "My lord?"

"Our victory is certain... but it would be as well, I think, if Doji Akane-sama learned of what the Crab are doing."

"I shall dispatch couriers at once, my lord."

"Good." Matsui rides forward, into the middle of the valley.

At this closer range the Crab army looks like some great sprawling beast, growling and muttering as it shifts its feet. Matsui rises in the saddle and draws a deep breath, then unleashes a parade-ground shout. "I am Doji Matsui, favored student of the great Kakita Saburashi! Eighteen men have fallen to my blade! When the last Crab was eliminated from the Emerald Tournament, it was I who defeated him! If your commander is brave enough to face me, let him come forth! Or remain behind your ranks and show himself a coward before the Empire!"

Not bad, Matsui thinks, as the Crab army shifts and growls, like a bear prodded in its lair. All those lessons in rhetoric were not wasted after all, though I doubt my sensei would approve. He smiles to himself as the noise from the Crab ranks rises and falls. The Crab general will have to answer the challenge, or be shamed before his men, leaving them without spirit. Sure enough, after a few minutes a single figure in full armor walks out of the Crab ranks, pacing slowly and purposefully toward Matsui. The Crane dismounts and walks forward to meet his foe.

A soldier of the Wall indeed, he thinks, noting the scratches on the much-repaired armor, the heavy scars that seam one side of the man's face, the eyepatch with the Yasuki mon resting in the left eye-socket... A shock runs through him. "Yasuki Koruma-san?"

The Crab smiles, a terrible sight on his scarred face. "It has been a few years, Matsui-san, but I seem to recall that our match at the Emerald Tournament was not quite as one-sided as you made out."

"Indeed," Matsui answers. For a moment the famed Crane glibness abandons him, and he gropes for words. Finally he says, "They sent you to the Wall?"

"I was a Crab skilled enough to make the finals of the Emerald Tournament. What better place for me?"

"Enough, my friend," Matsui says, stricken. "Concede now, and take your army home. We both know you cannot defeat me, and without your leadership this army will be helpless."

Yasuki Koruma smiles, a sad smile. "That is why I already ordered them to advance, Matsui-san."

Matsui stares past the Crab general, and feels his heart stutter as he sees the Crab legions already hunching forward, advancing with a slow and measured pace. "This... it will be a massacre, Koruma-san. You might win, but the loss of life--"

"Enough words, my friend. Let us finish this." The Crab goes into stance. Even now, Matsui can see an echo of his old grace, the style and skill that brought him through the Emerald Tournament.

Matsui takes up his own stance, sliding his hand down to the hilt of his katana. A beat, two, and the sword flashes free, a silver blur in the summer sun.

Yasuki Koruma was once close to Matsui's skill level, but he has spent the last three years on the Wall, while Matsui has trained under the Kakita Dueling Masters. The Crane's blow cuts him from hip to shoulder, and his own sword never leaves its saya. Matsui flicks the blood from his sword with a quick flourish and slaps it back into its sheath. He is already thinking ahead, wondering how he can turn back the charge Koruma has unleashed... when he realizes the Crab has not fallen.

Yasuki Koruma steps forward, one pace, then two, entrails tangling his feet. Blood and words squeeze past clenched teeth.

"The mountain... does not... FALL."

Too late, Matsui reaches for his blade again. The Crab's hands close around his throat, and there is no room to draw. He claws at Koruma's fingers, trying to pry them loose. His vision turns gray and blotchy, and he pours the last of his strength into his hands, trying to break the Crab's iron grip.

The last thing Doji Matsui and Yasuki Koruma hear is the remorseless thunder of twenty thousand marching Crab.

Campaign Fiction: A Summer of War, Part Two

This one depicted the opening battle of the Unicorn-Phoenix war triggered by the Scorpion schemes at the Cherry Blossom Festival. Like the previous story, it was intended to depict a bloody conflict that killed off major figures (in this case the Phoenix Clan Champion) and would result in a long, indecisive war. In both cases I tried to depict the strengths of each clan, to show why each clan could be considered awesome by its players. Here, the core concepts were the Unicorn themes of cavalry tactics and exuberant courage, and the Phoenix themes of magic and self-sacrifice.

However, in contrast to the last story (which was popular with players from both of the clans involved), this one was controversial among the Phoenix players. Some complained that their Champion's access to the Soul of Shiba meant he should have completely anticipated the scale of the Unicorn Clan's shugenja capabilities, or argued that he should have waged a modern "fighting withdrawal" once things went wrong (that one especially annoyed me since it essentially ignored the nature of samurai warfare). Others complained that the Phoenix should have brought their full magical firepower to the battle, ignoring the clan's long-standing history of never employing its full strength unless absolutely forced to do so. In practice, this reaction led me to conclude that I shouldn't worry about trying to make every fan-base happy and should just focus on telling the best story I could. A lesson that the official L5R Story Team could perhaps have benefited from as well... :D

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The Phoenix lands, west of Nikesake, summer 1503

Shiba Ninto watches the battle unfold before him like a Kabuki play. The Unicorn army has edged closer to the Phoenix positions all afternoon, infantry slinking forward to skirmish with the Shiba scouts, horse archers sweeping in to loose volleys of arrows. The Isawa shugenja standing behind the lines are doing their best to shield the Phoenix bushi with blankets of Air kami, but some of the arrows still get through, and soldiers fall. The return fire is sped on its way by more Air kami, and a few Unicorn fall out of their saddles like bags of rice.

If we did not have the Kami aiding us, we could not even strike at them, Ninto thinks, watching the Unicorn shoot and wheel and ride away, as arrows chase them futilely. They would bleed us to death before their cavalry even struck. Images unfurl in his mind, the Soul of Shiba showing him a hundred previous battlefields. The Phoenix have never fought the Unicorn directly before, but the Soul has witnessed other battles, countless battles where the children of Shinjo clashed with the forces of other Clans. He knows how they fight. They have weakened us with archery, pinned us in place with their infantry. Soon the cavalry will assemble for the charge.

"I do not understand, Shiba-sama."

Ninto glances to his side, at the young man holding his banner. Shiba Akira, that is his name. The son of a prominent provincial daimyo, just past his gempukku. A suitable choice to carry the Phoenix ancestral banner alongside the Clan Champion.

The boy flushes as he realizes he has spoken aloud. He bows, struggling to maintain his face. "Forgive my impertinence, Shiba-sama."

"It is forgiven, Akira-kun. What do you not understand?"

A great chorus of noise arises from the Unicorn lines -- trumpets from the Burning Sands, calling their soldiers to action. Banners dip and swing all across the front of the Unicorn army, and it opens like a flower, the center splitting open to reveal the great mass of heavy cavalry waiting there.

The boy swallows nervously before he answers. "I do not understand why the Unicorn are here, Shiba-sama."

Ninto sets a fingertip on his chin. "I seem to recall an incident involving some slaughtered horses. I believe that was the reason the Unicorn gave in their proclamation of war before the Emperor."

"Yes, Shiba-sama, but..." The boy breaks off for a moment, frightened of his own boldness, but at a raised eyebrow from Ninto he continues. "My father... some of his samurai were at the Festival of the Worthy Bride, Shiba-sama, and spoke with the Unicorn and their Dragon allies. They said the Unicorn swore that all they wished was an investigation into the incident with the horses."

"Indeed. So I am informed."

"But we promised them an investigation, my father's samurai swore we did! So why are the Unicorn here?"

Ninto watches the Unicorn center move forward, a solid mass of horses, white and purple banners snapping from a forest of lanceheads. The Utaku shiotome, the most powerful heavy cavalry in the Empire. Ninto wonders if the daimyo herself is among them. Certainly she seemed eager enough to bring her soldiers here. "Samurai say many things, Akira-kun," he says aloud.

"My lord?"

Very gently: "The Unicorn lied, Akira-kun."

The Battle Maidens begin to move forward, first at a walk. It takes time for heavy warhorses to reach a gallop. Ninto feels the air _flex_ around him, and glances back to where the Isawa are gathered behind the lines. Fire spirits are gathering there, gathering in vast numbers.

"Now we will see," he murmurs, "how skilled they truly are."

The boy stares. "The Isawa, my lord? Surely none can compare to them!"

Ninto shakes his head. "The Unicorn. They place shugenja in their armies, to support the troops directly."

The sound reaches him, a rumble across the fields, as the Battle Maidens spur to a trot. The Unicorn infantry hurriedly peel off to the sides, opening a clear field for the charge. The Phoenix infantry who have sparred with them for the last two hours turn and scurry back to their lines.

Very soon now, Ninto thinks, as the Unicorn cavalry move faster still. He can hear the Isawa chanting, their voices rising in antiphonal harmony as they urge the kami to do their bidding. Bolts of fire streak out toward the charging horsemen. Some of it

splashes away, deflected by blasts of air or water. Some of it strikes home, and the shriek of dying horses echoes across the battlefield, more terrible than the scream of any man. Horses fall, tumbling end over end and slamming their riders into the ground with bone-smashing force. Massive pile-ups rippled up and down the lines, horses colliding and falling, scores, hundreds of beasts and riders down on grass turned black by the flames of the kami.

Not enough, Ninto thinks, as the core of the charge bursts through the chaos, four thousand troops, their speed rising to a gallop. The Soul of Shiba reads the battle with the experience of 1500 years, and tells him what he already knows: Defeat.

He looks to left and right, seeing the Phoenix lines tremble as the Unicorn bear down on them. The Isawa are summoning more kami, but there is no time, no time; they cannot stop the charge now, and the horse-archers are back, barraging both flanks with a storm of arrows.

If we break, they will slaughter their way from here to Shiro Shiba on the coast, Ninto thinks, and he turns to Akira. "Come on, boy."

The young bushi stares at him in confusion for a moment, then nods and lifts the banner. Ninto draws Keitaku, the sword ringing faintly as it clears its saya, and walks forward, past the front of the Phoenix lines, into the open field between the armies. At his gesture, Akira plants the banner, the orange silk catching the breeze. Ninto stares for a moment at the great mass of horsewomen bearing down on him... and then turns his back to them, facing his own men.

He sees it rally them, the sight of their Champion showing contempt for death as it rides down on him. The Phoenix lines stiffen, re-form. Ninto waits until he is sure they will hold, and then turns to face the Unicorn once more.

They are less than fifty yards away, and the ground shakes beneath the trip-hammer thunder of sixteen thousand hooves. Lances come down in a long glittering wave. Ninto sets his left hand on Akira's shoulder, feeling the boy trembling, and lifts Keitaku to salute his foes. The afternoon sun flares yellow-orange on the blade of the Celestial Sword, and Shiba Ninto smiles at his death, filling his lungs for a last shout.

"THE PHOENIX!!"

Campaign Fiction: A Summer of War, Part Three

This one was more in the nature of a side-fiction, showing what the young Lion Clan Champion was doing while Gintaku was busy waging wars and hatching plots. As one of my Lion players had pointed out, the requirements for a new Clan Champion of the Lion are extensive, including a specific rule that he must spend a year with the Lion's Pride in order to win their trust and loyalty. This provided the perfect framing device for a fiction that would also serve to resolve the story of the escaped peasant rebels (and their leader Mifune) who had appeared in Cursed Gift.

The story does impact the larger timeline at the end, however, when we learn that the Dragon have attacked (due to Border Conflict having failed to trigger a Lion attack). I liked this story a lot, especially since it could also work as a stand-alone samurai tale. In fact, I ended up adapting it into a generic version for the front of the L5R 4th Edition core rulebook.

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The Dragon Heart Plain, Early Summer 1503

"Scout coming in," Matsu Kazumi calls. The Taisa makes a gesture to the soldiers behind her.

The Lion's Pride stirs itself to life, women young and old rising to their feet and checking their horses. Matsu Nimuro re-ties the straps on his armor, noting out of the corners of his eyes that Matsu Chieko is watching to make sure he does it right. He has been with the Pride for eight months now, but they still treat him like a hapless younger brother, even the ones like Chieko who are

barely older than him. Nimuro clamps his jaw and finishes his check before sliding his daisho underneath his obi. "At least now I am offered a chance to fight," he thinks. The scout races in and drops to one knee, fist to ground. "Kazumi-sama," she pants, "the ploy has worked!"

The Taisa smiles coldly and lets her gaze linger briefly to the southern horizon. The clouds of dust raised by the decoy force are just visible, smudges of gray-brown against the deep blue sky of summer. A handful of men on horseback, dragging branches to raise the dust of the full squadron, chasing after the handful of bandits who fled southwest to lure them away.

"And the bandits' main force?"

"One mile," the scout replies, pointing north. "They have made camp and stacked weapons."

"So ka," Kazumi says, and her smile turns feral. She swings into the saddle and turns her horse to face her soldiers. "Mount up! We finish these bandits today. This task has already taken far too long, now it ends!"

Matsu Nimuro mounts the sturdy Rokugani pony, soothing the animal's nerves with an absent motion of one hand, then snatches up a yari from the tripod of spears in the center of the camp. Chieko slips into position alongside him, pulling down her war-mempo to conceal her features. Within a few moments, the whole unit surges forward in a walk-trot, following the scout. Minutes pass, the Lion speeding their pace as they pass through a low valley and up toward a low ridge. Nimuro cannot help noticing the two bushi on either side of him, Chieko and one of her comrades, pressing close, protecting him. He grits his teeth. "Treating me like a vulnerable child, even as we ride into battle.

They mean well, but enough is enough."

They crest the ridge and suddenly the bandit camp is before them, dirty men scrambling up and reaching for weapons, an antheap kicked by a vengeful child. A shrieking war-cry rises from the ranks of the Lion's Pride as they spur their mounts to a gallop. Nimuro forces his mount ahead, into the front ranks of the charge, leveling his spear at the bandits. One of them is waving a yari in sharp, decisive gestures, trying to get his men into a defensive line, but they are not trained soldiers and the Lion have caught them by surprise.

The Pride slams into the half-formed line of bandits with a rippling series of impacts, spear-shafts snapping as the points lodge in tumbling bodies. Nimuro lets a brief grunt of frustration pass his clenched teeth as the two women on his flanks slam their yari into targets, leaving him nothing to attack. Then he is through the line, deliberately pushing forward past the Pride's ranks, and sees the bandit leader charging him, stabbing with his spear.

The pony squeals and leaps convulsively as the spear bites into its stomach, but Nimuro has already kicked his feet free of the stirrups and comes off the dying animal in a controlled fall, the armor slamming his torso as he hits the ground. In an instant he is on his feet, his katana clearing the saya as he charges the bandit chief. For the moment there are none of the Pride around him, only the bandit, and his heart exults. "I am Matsu Nimuro!" he shouts. "Give your name and die, bandit!"

"Names," the man growls. He snatches his yari free of the dying horse and whirls it to thrust at the young Lion. "Samurai always want names." The blood-sticky point of the spear flashes toward Nimuro's eyes. He slaps it aside with the flat of the katana, drawing the sword up for a killing stroke… and the bandit spins the spear behind his own shoulders, the butt slamming into the side of Nimuro's helmet with a crash that fills the world.

He is flying through the air, his katana spinning free from nerveless fingers. Someone screams, "Nimuro-sama!" and he feels a moment of frustration even as he falls toward the ground. "Just this once," he thinks, "this once let me prove myself without your help…"

The ground slams into him with the force of a dai tsuchi. The breath has left his lungs, but he forces himself to roll over – and then hurls himself backward, hands scrabbling at the grass, as the bandit's yari comes at him with blinding speed, stabbing like a snake's tongue.

Nimuro stops himself on one knee and brings up his left arm, slamming the bandit's spear-thrust aside with his arm bracer. The point lodges in his left shoulder guard and it tears free, the ties snapping and lashing against flesh, but he does not feel it. By main strength he surges to his feet and forward, left arm pushing the spear-shaft farther aside as his right hand draws his wakizashi. The short-sword's blade screams free and slams into the side of the bandit, cutting through armor and muscle and bone, lodging in the sternum.

The bandit drops to his knees, hands spasming. He looks into Nimuro's eyes for a moment, and smiles through the blood spilling past his teeth.

"My name… is Mifune," he gasps, and dies.

Nimuro whips his blade free of the bandit's chest and turns, looking for new enemies, but there are none within reach. The bandits have broken and those of the Pride still on horse are chasing down the fleeing stragglers. Matsu Cheiko hurries toward him, shouting questions, then pulls up as her eyes take in the scene. She closes her mouth and nods, once.

Matsu Kazumi arrives a few moments later. The older woman unbuckles her helmet and runs a hand through sweat-stained hair, the gray strands catching the sunlight. She looks at the dead bandit, and then at Nimuro's mangled armor, and a grim smile creases her face, very different from her more typical lethal grin.

A moment later, shouts cut across the field. Kazumi and Nimuro turn to the south. A rider is approaching at a dead gallop.

The young Lion woman reigns in violently, her pony bellowing protest, as she shouts her news. "The Dragon have moved! Their armies attack Toi Koku as we speak!"

A roar of savage joy rises from the ranks of the Lion's Pride. Nimuro does not join it. He walks to Kazumi's side. "Taisa-san."

She raises an eyebrow at being addressed formally by rank. "Yes?"

"It is time I returned to the Lion lands. My Clan has need of me, and of the Pride."

She nods, slowly, and then drops to one knee, bowing her head. "As you command, my Champion."

Campaign Fiction: A Summer of War, Part Four

And we go from a hero (Matsu Nimuro in part 3) to a hideous villain, Moto Temujin, here in part 4. This fiction paid off the Scorpion mis-step from the Cherry Blossom Festival, as Temujin launches an all-out invasion of the Scorpion lands. Of course, even this war would not resolve quickly, since the Scorpion had the ability to make the invaders quite miserable.

The "evidence" which Temujin shows to the Scorpion agent is, likewise, the payoff for the earlier story in which Gintaku suggests the Lion should take advantage of the "investigations" into Jukami Mura by planting suitable evidence. I actually made the distribution of this false evidence a Lion objective at a regional Interactive.

The impact of this fiction on the storyline would be felt immediately, since the very next module (Nemesis of Justice) was set against the background of the impending Unicorn invasion of Scorpion lands.

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The City of Hisatu-Kesu, Early Summer 1503

Thousands of Unicorn soldiers drill and deploy around the low walls of Hisatu-Kesu, filling the air with the thunder of their hooves, their dome-shaped tents covering the fields in patterned clusters. In the center of the vast camp, Moto Temujin waits inside his headquarters tent. He is still in his kimono, but the full suit of his family battle armor waits on a rack, ready for him to use.

The tent flap opens and a slim man in black and red enters, his slim and handsome face framed with a mask of silk that accentuates his good looks. Temujin knows that Shosuro Ekitu is a famous womanizer, which may account for the vanity of a "mask" which displays his face rather than conceal it.

The Khan gestures to the two Moto bushi who escort the Scorpion, and they bow and depart. Ekitu smiles unctuously and kneels, offering the prostration of a man addressing a Clan Champion. "A fine tent, Moto Temujin-sama," he says, casting an admiring gaze on the fine Senpet carpets and the low, polished wood table with its cups and bottles. "Even in the field, your hospitality is all that can be expected of the Lord of the Unicorn." He glances at the table near the center of the tent. "Enjoying a drink before your ride?"

Temujin nods briefly, his flat face an iron-hard mask. "We call it kumiss. A drink we learned of in the Burning Sands. Some of our folk still prefer it to sake."

Ekitu lifts the cup from the table and sniffs delicately at the liquid within. "Ah yes, I have heard of this in my time with your people. An… exotic brew, certainly. I confess I must believe it will not gain much popularity outside of your lands." He steeples his hands and cocks his head attentively. "How may I assist you, Great Khan? Surely you did you not call me out to this great encampment to show me this drink."

The Khan plucks a few sheets of paper from his sleeve and tosses them on the table before the Scorpion. "This."

The Scorpion lifts the papers and regards them with a bland expression. "An interesting fable," he says finally. "The Lion must think you are quite credulous if they expect you to believe such a tale."

"You deny the accusation?"

"Such a tale is not worthy even of denial," Ekitu says dismissively, tossing the paper back on the table. "Come now, Great Khan, you are well-known for your intelligence. If our Clan was truly engaging in cross-border actions with disguised bushi, if we were responsible for the attack on Jukami Mura, do you think our agents would allow themselves to be caught and interrogated? If I did not find the suggestion so laughable, I might consider that an insult to the loyalty of the Scorpion."

"No more than I would believe that a Phoenix-trained maho-tsukai slaughtered our horses at the Cherry Blossom Festival," Temujin growled.

"But Great Khan, the criminal confessed, the matter is closed. I cannot imagine why you would even mention that topic."

The Khan's face remains immobile. "Don't waste your breath with courtly lies here, Scorpion. I know perfectly well that you arranged that incident to try to force us into war with the Lion and Phoenix. Fortunate for you that I found it to my advantage to remove the Phoenix from the game. Now the Lion have offered me an excuse to remove your Clan from the game. Do you expect me to ignore it?"

The Scorpion's handsome face assumes an expression of restrained confusion. "Game? What game do you speak of, Great Khan?"

"You know well enough, since your lord is playing it with the Mantis and their Thrane lackeys. Naturally you've made sure to keep back a resource, an Imperial princess. So I cannot allow you to remain a viable player in the Empire's affairs."

"Really, Great Khan, I have no idea what you are talking about. Of course, you are a Clan Champion and I am merely an ambassador, so perhaps these are matters which are above my station."

The Shosuro taps the papers with a delicately extended finger. "If I might speak frankly, Moto Temujin-sama, it rather appears to me as though you are dancing to the tune of Akodo Gintaku." The Khan's impassive face creases, for the briefest of moments, in a cold smile. "Of course I am serving Gintaku's interests. But I am also serving my own, as he knows full well. There will be time enough for us to fight after we have disposed of our respective rivals."

Shosuro Ekitu sighs, his face assuming a caste of sincere regret. "It seems I cannot dissuade you from this suicidal course. Truly unfortunate, for our Clan holds no enmity for the descendants of the Ki-Rin. I fear a great many of your bushi will ride to their deaths in the Seikitsu Pass."

The Khan snorts. "Do you think me a fool? My ambassadors are already delivering my proclamation of war to the Imperial court, and my troops are seizing Pokau as we speak."

The Scorpion goes silent, staring at the Khan for a long moment. When he speaks again, it is in a very different voice, soft and thoughtful. "Why are you telling me these things, Moto Temujin?"

Temujin makes no answer. Ekitu sets on finger to his chin, narrowing his eyes. "You have told me your plans, your intentions. Surely you will not allow me to leave this tent alive. Were you hoping I might panic, blurt out something important?" He smiles broadly, flashing yellow-gray teeth. "So sorry, my lord, but the Scorpion Clan would never send someone so foolish to your lands. I suppose you must have a low opinion of us, but even so, I have to wonder—"

"Be silent," Temujin snarls, and raises his voice to bark an order. The tent flaps open and the two Unicorn bushi hurry inside, looming over the Scorpion with scimitars drawn.

The Shosuro smiles, shrugs, then steps forward, lifts the cup, and tosses it back. "Not what I would have chosen for a final drink," he says with a grimace. "But it will serve. Let us depart, samurai, and leave your Khan to his plans."

The guards move him toward the exit, blades ready to strike if he tries to run, but the Scorpion strolls relaxed, hand clasped behind his back. "A pity I will not live to see the outcome of this war," he says. "Greater warlords than you have tried to destroy the Scorpion, and they all failed, as you will."

"Wait," Temujin snaps. The trio halts and turn toward him, the guards' expressions questioning, the Scorpion blandly attentive.

The Great Khan stares down at the Scorpion with eyes as dark and empty as stone. "There are no greater warlords than I, Shosuro," he grates. "And you will live, until you acknowledge that truth."