Isawa Tsutai fell, his mind lost in the void as he spiraled head over heels without any sense of direction. He could not remember how far he had fallen, or for how long, but it seemed an eternity, and he distantly wondered if he would die upon striking the ground… assuming he ever did.
The answer came in an impact that drove the breath from his lungs in a great gust, but he did not die. Instead he lay on the ground, wheezing and desperately trying to fill his lungs.
“Be easy, friend,” an unfamiliar voice said. “Do not try to move too much. It will pass in a moment.”
Tsutai’s disorientation began to pass, replaced by panic. Why was he on a stone floor, or what appeared to be a stone floor? Who was it speaking to him? He tried to get to his feet, but could not gather the strength. “Where…” he gasped, then: “Who are you?”
“Where you are is not important at the moment,” the voice said. It spoke Rokugani, but with a strange, lilting accent that Tsutai could not place. “We will discuss that in a moment. I am Shiba Dankaro. Is there anything I can get for you? Do you require medical attention?”
The phrase ‘medical attention’ was very strange indeed, but Tsutai did not have time to consider it. He remembered now. There had been some beast, some strange creature he did not know. It had pursued him, tearing at him with its talons. He had fled, and just when he thought his desperate flight had allowed him to escape, he had burst through some underbrush only to find himself plummeting over a cliff toward a lake impossibly far below. He remembered the pain where the thing had torn at his arm, and looked down… but his flesh was unmarked.
“What… what is this?” He looked around, finally seeing clearly for the first time since his fall ended. He appeared to be in a simple room with walls and floor made of stone, but he could not recognize the stonework. “What is happening?”
The man who called himself Shiba Dankaro sat next to Tsutai and smiled. He was dressed in a Rokugani kimono in Phoenix orange, but the clothing was slightly off somehow, as if small details had been misunderstood. And the material was very strange, slick-smooth, shiny. “You were exploring the Colonies,” he said. The man’s accent was still strange, still unidentifiable. “You were one of the clan’s most promising young scholars, and wrote several very important works concerning the things you and others discovered within the ruins of that land. You discovered a group of as yet unidentified creatures, intelligent yet fierce, and were chased. You fell from a cliff into a lake far below.” His smile became somewhat sad. “Your body was never recovered. It was assumed you were consumed by predators. But your work lived on for generations. You became one of the most celebrated scholars of your generation, even if only posthumously.”
Tsutai looked at him in horror. “I… am I dead?”
“History considers you dead long ago,” Dankaro replied. “Your loss, and the circumstances under which you were lost, is what allowed the ritual we employed to retrieve you. You are not dead, no. You yet live, and hopefully shall for quite some time. We need your unique talents, you understand.”
Tsutai frowned and started to ask a question, then stopped. He peered at the floor beneath him. “What is this?” he demanded, glancing around. “This entire chamber is an illusion! You have entreated the kami to deceive me!”
“Yes,” Dankaro admitted. “It was not meant to deceive you, however. It was done for your comfort. We have discovered it is better to ensure your surroundings are familiar. If you like, I can have the… illusion… removed.”
“Yes,” Tsutai demanded instantly. “I want to see.”
“Of course,” the other Phoenix said. “Please, try to remain calm.” He turned and nodded as if to someone unseen, and there was a great shimmering in the air, matched by a low humming sound. The stone room that surrounded them vanished as though it had never been.
“Fortunes!” Tsutai swore, glancing all about him. “What is this? Is this metal? Some form of prison?”
“No, not at all,” Dankaro replied. “It is metal, yes, but far from a prison cell. This is… let us call it an audience chamber. It was utilized for the ritual that brought you here. We require a smaller space for the proper preparations to be made, and I suspect you are not quite ready to see the other portions of the… the castle.”
“You said you required my help,” Tsutai said, his confusion and disorientation now fully giving way to anger. “If you expect anything from me, anything at all, then I demand you tell me precisely what is going on at once. At once, do you hear? I will not be made a fool of!”
“You are far from a fool, my friend,” Dankaro said. “That is why we need your help, after all. Still, if you feel you are prepared, I will accommodate you. Try to remain calm, if you can.” Again, he looked as if to someone else. “Open the viewing port, please.” There was a loud noise, a sort of whirring sound, followed by a soft hiss, and then Dankaro smiled. He gestured behind Tsutai. “Please, have a look.”
Confused, Tsutai turned… and then recoiled. There was a large window on the wall where a moment before none had been. Or at least it appeared to be a window, but what was beyond it made no sense whatsoever. Perhaps it was a painting? “What is this? What… what am I looking at?”
“You are looking at Rokugan, my friend,” Dankaro said softly. “Imagine for a moment you are on board a ship, a ship that could sail through the skies themselves.”
“Do you mean like the Heavenly Kobune of Suitengu?” Tsuati had studied the history of that relic, which had carried living shugenja into the Celestial Heavens.
“Yes, precisely,” Dankaro said, nodding. “Now, imagine we sailed so far above the land it was revealed that the Empire was merely one part of a much larger world, and that world itself was shaped like a sphere that hung perfectly in a great void, bereft of the Elements themselves.”
Tsutai stared. “What are those small lights?” he asked weakly. “Are they stars?”
“Some of them are other great ships like ours, sailing far above the Empire,” Dankaro said. “The others are distant stars, yes. Sisters of the Lady Amaterasu, may her soul be forever at peace.”
Tsutai was quiet for a moment. “Are you certain I am not dead?” he asked.
“Quite certain, yes.”
“Then something has dramatically changed, and I have slept or perhaps wandered in the spirit realms for a long time,” Tsutai said. “Please tell me, what is the year?”
“The year is 3122 according to the Isawa calendar,” Dankaro replied. “It is the eighty-fourth year of the reign of the one-hundred and twelfth Emperor of the Iweko Dynasty. And the Empire of Rokugan is in great danger.”
Tsutai turned and looked at him. “From what?”
Dankaro’s smile was very sad. “We are hoping you can help us determine exactly that,” he replied.
The answer came in an impact that drove the breath from his lungs in a great gust, but he did not die. Instead he lay on the ground, wheezing and desperately trying to fill his lungs.
“Be easy, friend,” an unfamiliar voice said. “Do not try to move too much. It will pass in a moment.”
Tsutai’s disorientation began to pass, replaced by panic. Why was he on a stone floor, or what appeared to be a stone floor? Who was it speaking to him? He tried to get to his feet, but could not gather the strength. “Where…” he gasped, then: “Who are you?”
“Where you are is not important at the moment,” the voice said. It spoke Rokugani, but with a strange, lilting accent that Tsutai could not place. “We will discuss that in a moment. I am Shiba Dankaro. Is there anything I can get for you? Do you require medical attention?”
The phrase ‘medical attention’ was very strange indeed, but Tsutai did not have time to consider it. He remembered now. There had been some beast, some strange creature he did not know. It had pursued him, tearing at him with its talons. He had fled, and just when he thought his desperate flight had allowed him to escape, he had burst through some underbrush only to find himself plummeting over a cliff toward a lake impossibly far below. He remembered the pain where the thing had torn at his arm, and looked down… but his flesh was unmarked.
“What… what is this?” He looked around, finally seeing clearly for the first time since his fall ended. He appeared to be in a simple room with walls and floor made of stone, but he could not recognize the stonework. “What is happening?”
The man who called himself Shiba Dankaro sat next to Tsutai and smiled. He was dressed in a Rokugani kimono in Phoenix orange, but the clothing was slightly off somehow, as if small details had been misunderstood. And the material was very strange, slick-smooth, shiny. “You were exploring the Colonies,” he said. The man’s accent was still strange, still unidentifiable. “You were one of the clan’s most promising young scholars, and wrote several very important works concerning the things you and others discovered within the ruins of that land. You discovered a group of as yet unidentified creatures, intelligent yet fierce, and were chased. You fell from a cliff into a lake far below.” His smile became somewhat sad. “Your body was never recovered. It was assumed you were consumed by predators. But your work lived on for generations. You became one of the most celebrated scholars of your generation, even if only posthumously.”
Tsutai looked at him in horror. “I… am I dead?”
“History considers you dead long ago,” Dankaro replied. “Your loss, and the circumstances under which you were lost, is what allowed the ritual we employed to retrieve you. You are not dead, no. You yet live, and hopefully shall for quite some time. We need your unique talents, you understand.”
Tsutai frowned and started to ask a question, then stopped. He peered at the floor beneath him. “What is this?” he demanded, glancing around. “This entire chamber is an illusion! You have entreated the kami to deceive me!”
“Yes,” Dankaro admitted. “It was not meant to deceive you, however. It was done for your comfort. We have discovered it is better to ensure your surroundings are familiar. If you like, I can have the… illusion… removed.”
“Yes,” Tsutai demanded instantly. “I want to see.”
“Of course,” the other Phoenix said. “Please, try to remain calm.” He turned and nodded as if to someone unseen, and there was a great shimmering in the air, matched by a low humming sound. The stone room that surrounded them vanished as though it had never been.
“Fortunes!” Tsutai swore, glancing all about him. “What is this? Is this metal? Some form of prison?”
“No, not at all,” Dankaro replied. “It is metal, yes, but far from a prison cell. This is… let us call it an audience chamber. It was utilized for the ritual that brought you here. We require a smaller space for the proper preparations to be made, and I suspect you are not quite ready to see the other portions of the… the castle.”
“You said you required my help,” Tsutai said, his confusion and disorientation now fully giving way to anger. “If you expect anything from me, anything at all, then I demand you tell me precisely what is going on at once. At once, do you hear? I will not be made a fool of!”
“You are far from a fool, my friend,” Dankaro said. “That is why we need your help, after all. Still, if you feel you are prepared, I will accommodate you. Try to remain calm, if you can.” Again, he looked as if to someone else. “Open the viewing port, please.” There was a loud noise, a sort of whirring sound, followed by a soft hiss, and then Dankaro smiled. He gestured behind Tsutai. “Please, have a look.”
Confused, Tsutai turned… and then recoiled. There was a large window on the wall where a moment before none had been. Or at least it appeared to be a window, but what was beyond it made no sense whatsoever. Perhaps it was a painting? “What is this? What… what am I looking at?”
“You are looking at Rokugan, my friend,” Dankaro said softly. “Imagine for a moment you are on board a ship, a ship that could sail through the skies themselves.”
“Do you mean like the Heavenly Kobune of Suitengu?” Tsuati had studied the history of that relic, which had carried living shugenja into the Celestial Heavens.
“Yes, precisely,” Dankaro said, nodding. “Now, imagine we sailed so far above the land it was revealed that the Empire was merely one part of a much larger world, and that world itself was shaped like a sphere that hung perfectly in a great void, bereft of the Elements themselves.”
Tsutai stared. “What are those small lights?” he asked weakly. “Are they stars?”
“Some of them are other great ships like ours, sailing far above the Empire,” Dankaro said. “The others are distant stars, yes. Sisters of the Lady Amaterasu, may her soul be forever at peace.”
Tsutai was quiet for a moment. “Are you certain I am not dead?” he asked.
“Quite certain, yes.”
“Then something has dramatically changed, and I have slept or perhaps wandered in the spirit realms for a long time,” Tsutai said. “Please tell me, what is the year?”
“The year is 3122 according to the Isawa calendar,” Dankaro replied. “It is the eighty-fourth year of the reign of the one-hundred and twelfth Emperor of the Iweko Dynasty. And the Empire of Rokugan is in great danger.”
Tsutai turned and looked at him. “From what?”
Dankaro’s smile was very sad. “We are hoping you can help us determine exactly that,” he replied.
Rokugan in Space!
This chapter is designed to show how far both the Rokugani setting and the L5R rules system can be pushed by those seeking unusual or alternate settings for their games. Instead of merely an alternate outcome to a canonical event, or a Rokugan sent on a different path at its origin, this chapter relocates L5R into a science-fiction setting, a hypothetical distant future in which Rokugan is a modern, powerful starfaring empire with a history stretching across more than three millennia.
11/01/2023 11:31:00 AM |
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Empire of the Emerald Stars
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