Session One; Four Heads are Better than None

Katsumi stared at her hand, trying to figure out the ancient kanji calligraphed below the descending numbers. She knew how to read and write well enough, but these words, they weren’t ones you’d see in your day to day encounters. They were old, really old, making it difficult to gain insight on the matter when she had trouble deciphering the magic script telling here what to do. Oh how ridiculous that would sound to anyone but her, and not because she was living these odd happenings. The Empire was a strange one when it came to accepting the curious conjurations of the realms. If you’re born with white hair, you’re destined to become great; if you’re born with one eye colored different than the other, you invite evil spirits wherever you go. Yes, Katsumi knew the unwavering resolution of cloistered minds all too well. To anyone else, one would be mad to say such things. To anyone else, except the Spider.

Session One; I Like the That

As they approached the Scorpion tents, Mikoto wished she had been more clear on which one the girl was in. There were more than a handful, and searching each one would take up time they probably didn’t have. The group as a whole stopped, each person looking around, probably attempting to guess which place to start like she was. She eyed each tent in view, it had to be a big one, no way someone could be held captive in something made for just sleeping. That one. Mikoto took a step forward and then she heard it, the muffled cry of a young girl. Her eyes darted towards the noise, it was just a bit smaller than the one she had chose, but that didn’t matter now. They knew where the girl was. Without thinking she rushed towards the tent, Shiba had apparently had the same idea as she charged ahead of Mikoto, katana in hand.

Session One; Killing Grounds

Now that they knew the plot, Kyuzo checked his hand to see if they were correct in their assumptions. Apparently so. The calligraphed  kanji had changed once again, this time reading, “Fix the problem.” That was easier said than done, he had already considered many methods to stop the duel as soon as they discovered there was foul play. Even if it wasn’t the next task in this ‘game’ they were playing, he wasn’t about to let an honorable iaijutsu duel be perverted by a murderous plot.

“Okay, let’s stop this from happening.” Kyuzo said. Shiba and Matsu nodded in agreement, setting off in their own way to figure out a fix for their problem. Daigotsu didn’t move. Of course not.

Kyuzo leaned close to the Dragon’s chair, getting a better look at the scorpion dagger. Perhaps if he removed the weapon… He brushed at the haori, it didn’t budge. He tried to pick up the dagger without moving the haori, again to no avail. When his hand got close to the object it hit some sort of invisible wall. A thin layer of air that prevented him from moving or touching anything that wasn’t part of this world. So much for that idea.

Session One; Dark Plots

Morasahi hustled to the dueling grounds, keeping pace with Asahina. What she would find, she couldn’t even fathom, from the start of this morning life had been a series of unexplainable events. Her hand had told her to go there, yes, her hand. As if waking up, standing, fully clothed, and in some strange place wasn’t odd enough, the Spider, Daigotsu, was just as peculiar, and then there was that shadow beast, and the noise, and that Jashuwa who had such a story to tell them. Dead, he had said she was dead, and bestowed upon her a series of numbers counting down to the end of the game. A game for her life. The script on her hand clearly read, “Get to the dueling grounds.” And so, if she were to win this game, that’s where she had to go. Asahina seemed to be the only one as eager as she to wrap up the day, the week for that matter. This game was to be a week long, and the sooner it was over, the sooner she could return to a place where things actually made sense.

Session One; Foreign Noise

A dull grey existence enveloped Katsumi when she opened her eyes. She was standing in what appeared to be the common way, but it wasn’t exactly that. Like an echo, or dusty painting, the colors were washed out, muted, just a ruminant of what would have been the common way in front of her tent. The buildings were there in the same fashion, solid but faded. It was familiar, not because she had spent the last few days in a mirror of this place, it wasn’t the location that really brought on the sense that Katsumi had been here before, it was simply the feeling. It was a feeling that weighed on her shoulders, that kept her heart from pounding, that muffled the world and felt like it all should make sense. Like she had been here time and time again, even if the scenery was different, this feeling was one she knew she had experienced. There was something that didn’t belong in this dusky familiar place, instead of the common sounds Katsumi had heard the previous mornings near her tent, there was nothing. No crickets, no fires, no murmur from people. No wind blowing through the manicured trees, or ruffling the tent. It was deadly silent except for a faint and strange tone, a tone that now that Katsumi was listening for, brought a slow chill to the nape of her neck. It rang like war horn being blown miles and miles away, except it shook in and out with impossible pitches, stuttering and screaming as if dragging metal across a bronze statue lay at the heart of this horn. It was a sound Katsumi had never heard before in nature or otherwise.

Session One; Shiba a Go Go

Morasahi puzzled over where to put her next stone on the board. She had been looking forward to the Go tournament since she arrived. It was something she actually knew how to do, unlike the events held the day before that catered to those who were taught the arts in their schooling. Morasahi hadn’t been afforded the opportunity to stand in a garden painting, or be so moved by a sunset she had to sing about it. It was good in a way, she didn’t expect she was a very good vocalist, she had a hard enough time finding the words in response to normal conversations, singing in front of people seemed like it would be even more uncomfortable. But strategy, that was something she knew and had little trouble acting on.

Session One; The Game of Birds and Cats

Asahina Kyuzo sat quietly, listening to the competitor before him play the most beautiful rendition of Cherry Snow he had ever heard. It was the perfect song to play here at the Topaz Championship, full of complicated transitions between notes and strict timing. Probably the best song to pick if one were skilled enough to manage it, unlike Kyuzo. He could handle a komabue well enough, but since his acceptance at the Kakita Bushi Academy he had not the time to practice as often as he would have liked. The Asahina family was well known for their talent in arts, a talent that seemed to pass Kyuzo by. Still, he managed what he could, taking up the flute and painting in the precious little time he wasn’t learning dueling techniques, or strategy through games of Go with other students.

Session One; The Tournament Begins

The city was crowded, more so the closer Katsumi got to the registration booths. She had noted the sheer amount of people the day before, when her traveling group first entered the city and set up their tent. Katsumi had never seen so many people, even though the Topaz Championship was the smallest jewel-named tournament the Realm had to offer, it still invited several students from across the land, from every clan, coupled with the town’s own population there were easily more people than the small villages Katsumi had grown up around. Even the Black Silk dojo couldn’t have held this many people when it was still operational, before it was burned to the ground. That was back when the Empire had declared her clan outlaws, when they were actively hunted, and all because of what? A little trickery and espionage. The other clans partook in those activities daily, and had been for centuries. That time, however was over, and now here she stood, proudly wearing her clan’s mon upon her back and there was nothing the rest of the Empire could do about it, no matter how much they sneered and turned up their noses at her. It really didn’t bother Katsumi, she was used to scowls and stares, she barely noticed them anymore.

Author Update: The Stories shall Flow

Maybe flow is the wrong word to use here. Either way, I'm challenging myself with a new project, which is to transcribe the events happening in my new gaming group. New is also the incorrect word to use, as most of them are not new, but the setup has changed and we have indeed begun a new game. The last post was related to this, in attempts to get inside the head of my chosen character.

So, hopefully, I'll be updating this every week, if not more than once a week, with our gaming session written in a somewhat enjoyable fashion.

What about the rest of all those updates from a year ago? Well, long story short, I apparently take way more time than I thought I would to complete something. My partner fell out like a month or so into the whole thing as well, so it's been slow going. Either way, that stuff is of no consequence, this is the new, old, R.J. Mercy. I'm back, writing about more gaming stuff. Shocking, I know.

Part of the Family

Life is duty. Katsumi had learned this at a young age. She had been given a wakizashi crafted in the colors of the Dragon clan at seven. The hilt was painted green with a gold dragon curled along it, mouth open so it appeared the blade shot straight from the dragon’s mouth. It was terribly uncomfortable before she had wound the cloth around the long since faded colors. That dragon barely recognizable, worn down so much no one would know what it originally was, except Katsumi. She remembered clearly the way it looked. The way it felt in her hand. The weight of it, much heavier than she had believed it would be, only entrusted with a small, crudely made knife before that time. She remembered the man who it used to belong to and the way he had glared at her. He was a monster in her memory, the way she had seen him at the age of seven. Even on his knees he was taller than her, shoulders hunched as if he was getting ready to spring on her. Looking down on her with strands of hair hanging across his face, torn loose from his fight with her family. Her brother gripped the Dragon’s hair, his katana pressed against the man’s back, keeping him from fleeing. Her father kneeling next to her, pointing and explaining where she was to put the blade in order to stop his heart.

The Dragon was glaring at Katsumi as she approached. He looked down on her with disgust, with hatred. He was her sacrifice, her offering. The first to die by her hands. The one that would bring her into a life of duty, bringing her into the family, the Spider clan. Her brother pulled on the Dragon’s hair, straightening him. The Dragon’s armor had already been removed to prevent it from being sullied, it could prove to be useful at a later time. His kimono had been pulled away by her father so he could better instruct her on the point of entry, now hanging around his arms, the ropes binding his hands behind his back preventing it from falling away. Katsumi placed the tip of the wakizashi against the Dragon’s chest, her other hand cupping the end of the hilt for added strength and stability. She shifted her feet, getting ready to push with all her might.

“I will bring the Empire to its knees. I will bring death to your family. Your life ends by my hand. I am the Spider clan.”

Every day from then on, she was a Spider. Even before they were accepted by the Empire, they were Spider. When they were ronin, or Dragon, or Phoenix, they were Spider. When the clan was declared outlaws, when they were hunted, when they couldn’t bare their mon, they were still Spider. The Dark Lord decreed it, and it was so. In her heart she knew she was Spider clan. And now, six years after she first became part of the family, they were all Spider clan. They were part of the Empire, achieving great clan status with the sacrifice of the Dark Lord. His name she shared, as did all those she traveled with, all those in her family. They may not have been tied by blood, not even her father was of relation to her. But blood doesn’t make you a Spider, duty does.