carpedavid's Land of the Crane (Updated 11 May, 2006)

[carpedavid]

Introduction

All Tanayaran children learn about their relationship with the spirit world at a very early age. They learn about the spirits of the field that encourage the rice to grow, about the spirits of the heavens that bring good health, and about the spirits of the dark realm that cause misery and misfortune. They learn about the animal spirits that govern the cycle of years and about the ancestral spirits that bring them daily fortune. Above all, though, they learn of the spirits that guard Tanayari, who protect their homeland from the lizard-riding barbarian raiders and the savage warlords of Xin.

What they learn, primarily, is that, in order to keep the spirits happy, and thus, secure good fortune, one needs to make offerings on a regular basis. The spirits of the field require a cup of sake when the rice is sown, the ancestral spirits require daily worship, and the heavenly spirits require gifts of food and drink. The guardian spirits, though, expect far more: they expect every clan from every corner of the Land of the Crane to send emissaries to carry paper and jade and sake and rice to their remote, treacherous homes.

Thus, in the year three hundred and thirty seven of the Ito shogunate, every clan in Tanayari selected a group of their finest young samurai and shamans and honored them with the task of escorting an offering to Tsuru no Hi, the Great Fire Crane, guardian of the northern border. That Tsuru no Hi lived in an active volcano which continuously bellowed forth the great plumes of soot and cinders that formed the ashen desert responsible for swallowing entire armies of potential invaders was a minor matter, the daimyos assured their young emissaries.

After all, a treacherous pilgrimage to a distant, fiery mountain, fighting off shadowy ninja, rampaging oni, and hordes of ravenous bakemono all the while was a sure way to bring honor to the clan, and what young and impressionable samurai or shaman wouldn't want that? Plus, the daimyos thought to themselves, it was a small price to pay for the peace of mind it would bring; not having to worry about foreign invaders allowed them to focus all of their attention on how best to crush their neighboring clans.

Thus, three young heroes set out from the city of Kurosawa on 27 Sangatsu, 337 Ito, Year of the Fire Crane.

First Up: Kakeru, the Shaman

 

[Graywolf-ELM]

I never would have stopped in, if I hadn't seen the author. I liked your writing in the DM competitions here. This isn't a genre of gaming I would normally read, but I'll be reading it anyway.

Cheers, and happy writing,
GW

 

[BSF]

Ditto - I saw it was carpeDavid, and a brand new Storyhour, so I thought I would drop in. It's much easier to catch a storyhour at the beginning.

 

[el-remmen]

You didn't tell me you were doing a story hour. . .Something else to do at work now that you aren't allowed to IM, eh?

I'll have to check it out, even though you don't read mine. . . .grumble grumble

 

[carpedavid]

Thanks for the kind comments from everyone so far. I'm going to attempt short but weekly updates (I'm aiming for Thursdays). We'll see how long that lasts .

Without further ado, this week's update.

Kakeru, the Shaman

The three heroes set out from the city of Kurosawa equipped with a cart, a horse, a koku* of rice, a few hundred cranes**, and little else. Kakeru, a young shaman of 16 years, sat in the front of the cart, holding the reins of Yagi, his horse.

As the only son of the daimyo's chief advisor, Kakeru was not surprised to have been chosen. His father had given him a very long speech about the honor he would bring to the clan, to his ancestors, to his mother, and to his six very silly sisters by embarking on this journey. He had sat patiently, smiled beatifically, and nodded. Honor was great, but he was excited to get out and see the world.

As he flicked the reins to direct Yagi, he looked over to his right. Floating next to him was the spirit of his grandfather***, Hiroshi, who was delivering a lecture on the proper way to greet those of higher station, lower station, the same station, and those whose station one was unaware of. Kakeru sighed and looked back over to his left. In the sky above him, he could see the albatross spirit, Wataridori, making slow circles around the cart.

Riding in the cart behind him were his two companions: Fukasu, his cousin on his father's side, lay with her large black wings curled up around her to ward off the cool morning air; Musashi, their childhood friend, sat in seiza****, diligently watching the road in front of them for any sign of trouble.

They rode this way for a day, saying little, each wondering what kind of adventures they were in for. By sundown, the city and the safety of the daimyo's castle were twenty miles behind them. They pulled off the road into a small clearing surrounded by red maple trees. Kakeru prepared a small campfire, set Yagi to graze, and prayed to the spirits of his ancestors to give them guidance and protection.

"How long will it be until we reach the monastery?" Musashi asked. The Temple of Thunder and Lightning was supposed to be the first stop on their journey. As the premier monastery in the Kurosawa lands, it had the privilege of sending an emissary with the party.

"Two days, at the rate we're traveling," Kakeru replied. Everyone sighed; being outside of the castle for the first time was exciting, but also nerve-wracking. "I'll take first watch," the young shaman offered.

Fukasu had already rolled over and pulled her wings in around her. "Good night, Kakeru-kun. Sleep tight, Musashi-kun," she said sleepily.

"Good night, Fu-chan," the shaman and the samurai replied in unison.

Musashi looked at Kakeru, "Are you sure you want to take first watch?"

"I'll be fine. I have Hiroshi-san to keep me company." He looked over at the spirit of his grandfather who had his eyes closed and his chin resting on his chest. He smiled beatifically at Musashi as Hiroshi began to snore.

Musashi was unable to see Kakeru's spirit guardians, so he shrugged and lay down next to Fukasu. "Watch well, Kakeru-kun," he said as he closed his eyes.

Kakeru settled into seiza and looked around. He couldn't see much with the fire going, so he contented himself to listen: the spring crickets chirped rhythmically, and the spirits of the wind rustled the leaves of the trees. After three hours of staring out into the darkness, Kakeru began to get bored -- this was not shaping up to be the exciting kind of adventure he had been expecting.

He yawned, and at that exact moment, a crossbow bolt flew from behind a tree and pierced his shoulder. Suddenly, Kakeru no longer had any reason to be bored...

Next Week -- Fukasu: the Rogue

Notes:
* A koku is a quantity of rice sufficient to feed one person for one year.
** The "crane" referred to here is the standard unit of currency in Tanayari: a square of rice paper stamped with the Emperor's seal, a flying crane.
*** Hiroshi is actually Kakeru's great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, but it is customary in Tanayari to refer to any ancestor as "grandfather" or "grandmother."
**** Proper sitting posture: http://www.furyu.com/archives/issue6/Seiza.html

Edit: Fixed Fukasu's name.

 

[carpedavid]

You didn't tell me you were doing a story hour. . .Something else to do at work now that you aren't allowed to IM, eh?

I decided to start it on a whim, and then immediately regretted it when I realized how rusty I am at writing. Fortunatly, I think I can handle short but frequent updates without wearing myself out.

I'll have to check it out, even though you don't read mine. . . .grumble grumble

*whistles innocently*

 

[carpedavid]

Fukasu, the Rogue

An early update this week, since I got it done early. As a side note, the updates should get longer once I'm finished with the character introductions. I just wanted to give each character a post of his or her own. This week, we meet Fukasu, the half-oni rogue...

---------------------

Fukasu woke up to the confusing cacophony produced by Kakeru and Musashi both yelping in pain, Yagi snorting aggressively, and someone shouting "Charge!" Unfolding her wings, she looked up to see Kakeru clutching at a crossbow bolt sticking out of his shoulder, and Musashi pulling one out of his side.

Uh-oh, she immediately thought, ninja! Looking to her right, she saw two figures clad in black running toward her. She jumped to her feet, drew her ninja-to, and tried to focus on her training.

Yesterday, she had received a final lesson from her sensei - the only remaining member of the party that had scaled Tsuru no Hi sixty years ago*. After reminding her to watch her footwork (or in her case, hoof-work), he had admonished her to be careful.

"The world outside these walls is dangerous, and filled with those who have fear in their hearts," he said, solemnly.

I'm six feet tall, breathe steam, and can fly, Fukasu thought, I can take care of myself.

The old samurai cocked his head and pointed his finger at the young half-oni, "That's exactly the kind of attitude that's going to get you in trouble."

Fukasu started to object, but then grinned sheepishly and bowed - he knew her too well. Later that evening, as she wandered the halls of the daimyo's castle, she reflected on her sensei's words: "the world outside." The more she thought about that concept, the more worried she became. Finally, she sought out her uncle, Kakeru's father, who had raised her as his own.

"Uncle, I'm worried," Fukasu began cautiously.

"Fu-chan, what do you have to be worried about?"

"I've never been outside these walls. I don't know how people are going to react to me," she paused, "To what I am."

He grimaced. She was right of course - everyone in the palace treated his niece with great respect, but the outside world would be full of people who would fear and hate her. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, and then said, "The spirits of our ancestors will watch over you and protect you from harm."

"I know they will, but I'm still worried about how I should react."

"Ah," he paused and took a deep breath, "Well, the Daruma teaches that those who sow anger and fear will reap anger and fear, while those that sow compassion and happiness will reap compassion and happiness. You must treat others with the same tolerance that you wish to be treated with."

Fukasu nodded - it was a teaching she had heard a hundred times before, but one which she always found relevant. "Thank you uncle," she said.

Unfortunately, her uncle hadn't mentioned anything about ninja, so she only had her sensei's training to rely on, and he had trained her to kill. As the first black-clad figure approached, she made her figure as imposing as possible: expanding her wings to their fullest extent, drawing her six foot frame as tall as possible, angling her head so that her black ram horns caught the light of the fire, and exhaling deeply – sending a cloud of steam rolling up toward the night sky.

The ninja stopped in his tracks, and Fukasu could see the fear in his eyes. Seizing the opportunity, she closed the distance between them, and slid her blade between the ninja's third and fourth ribs. He gasped before collapsing at her feet. She breathed a sigh of relief, then looked over to see the second ninja rushing directly toward Musashi's katana. In the firelight, it almost looked like he was smiling.

Next: Musashi, the Samurai

*The Tanayaran calendar follows a sixty year cycle.

 

[el-remmen]

Sweet, I really like the "flashback" format.

Keep up the good work. . .

 

[carpedavid]

Sweet, I really like the "flashback" format.

Keep up the good work. . .

Thanks, Nemm! So far I'm having a lot of fun writing this. I'm trying not to fret too much and just keep the story flowing. This is a great group to game with, and I've managed to stumble into some good stories, so there's a lot of good stuff to tell, which makes writing this easy.

 

[carpedavid]

Musashi, the Samurai

Musashi couldn't help but grin as the ninja rushed toward him. Since he was old enough to hold a bokken*, he had spent the better part of every day training for battle. Now he would finally be able to test himself for real: on the field of battle, rather than on the tatami** of the dojo.

The last time he had drawn his sword, his father had been watching from across the room. As the daimyo's general, his father expected nothing less than perfection from his son, and often observed his technique with an extremely critical eye.

"Musashi!" he roared, as his son drew his katana, "Your feet are out of alignment. How can you possibly generate the power to cut down your enemy with your body held like that?" He roughly rearranged his son's stance, and gestured to him to continue.

Musashi attempted the maneuver again, and this time his father nodded in approval. "Good," he growled, "You learn quickly, Musashi. You have the potential to be an even greater swordsman than your brother; perhaps even greater than I."

"Yes father," he said, bowing deeply. I will be the greatest swordsman of all, he thought to himself.

"Musashi, you know of the pilgrimage that our clan must make to Tsuru no Hi."

"Yes father."

"You remember that your brother, Hiro, made the pilgrimage to Tora no Daichi*** seven years ago."

"Yes father."

"You remember that he brought great honor to our clan," Akuma smiled.

"Yes father," Musashi said, knowing full well what was coming. As the son of the daimyo's general, it was inconceivable that he would not have been selected to lead the pilgrimage this year.

"You, Musashi, now have the opportunity to bring even greater honor to our clan, for you shall be among those that deliver our offering to the greatest of the spirit guardians."

"Thank you, father," Musashi said, bowing deeply yet once again.

His father bowed in return (though not as deeply), and turned to leave. When he reached the door, he stopped and turned back to his son. "Musashi," he said sternly.

"Yes father?"

"If you fail, do not bother to come back."

"I will not fail." It is not possible for me to fail, he thought.

Musashi recalled this conversation as he waited for the ninja to reach him. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. He repeated those words to himself as time itself slowed down. Each breath came deliberately and seemed to last minutes. He could feel his pulse reverberate throughout his body – a bloody metronome ticking off the rhythm of his life. The interval between the footsteps of his opponent became infinitely and unbearably long. Finally, the man drew within range of his blade, and every muscle in his body tensed.

At the last possible moment, in one smooth motion, he drew his katana and slashed open the belly of his attacker. Time returned to its normal flow, and as the lifeless body fell at his feet, he turned his gaze to the third ninja. This one, who had ordered the charge, stopped in her tracks. After a moment of hesitation, she turned and ran.

Only when she disappeared back into the shadows did Musashi relax. He wiped the blood off of his katana as he sheathed it, and then he turned his attention to his friends. Fukasu was already attending to Kakeru as the young shaman healed his own wounds, so he moved the bodies of the two fallen ninja next to the fire.

After taking a few minutes to catch their breath, the three heroes burned the bodies. "Great spirits of fire," Kakeru intoned, "I command you to burn brightly." They watched as the fire consumed the remains of the two ninja, then, with the threat of the bodies spontaneously reanimating as undead removed, decided to return to sleep.

This time, Kakeru and Fukasu rested while Musashi took watch. As the young samurai sat in seiza, intently watching the shadows, he replayed the earlier battle in his mind. He had been strong, he had survived, and he defended his friends - that much was true - but something felt incomplete. He had let one of the attackers escape, and that simply would not do.

I need to be stronger, he thought, I need to be much, much stronger.

Next: the Temple of Thunder and Lightning

* A wooden training sword. While it isn't designed to cut, it can still be deadly in the right hands.
** Traditional straw mats that serve as floor covering.
*** Tora no Daichi, the Earth Tiger, guards the Eastern border of Tanayari.