Mike Myler
Grand Vizier of the Googly Mooglies
The Mists of Akuma Kickstarter is live!
Stop by the Kickstarter page to get FOUR FREE PDFs (Mists of Akuma: Primer, Imperial Dragons, Martial Arts Stances, and Tsukumogami) to see what the eastern fantasy noir steampunk campaign setting has to offer (including new classes, backgrounds, races, creatures, feats, and more)!
The project updates are coming along too -- check them out to see the Ancestral Weapons feat and two new augmetics!
Throughout the Kickstarter campaign we're releasing short stories as well, giving you a deeper look into the world of Soburin!
Kanden and the Innocuous Kanzashi
Situated a few miles from the walls of Sanbaoshi, Masama Nipyurēta’s home was like estates of any of the Masuto Imperial family’s prized bengoshi officials: a sprawling fortress, practically a miniature city unto itself. Tightening the fittings on his augmetics and waiting for the nearby guard to turn her attention elsewhere, Kanden made a crouching dash for the wall and dived into its moat after a rapid sprint just as she began walking away. Ignoring most of the virulent toxins within the water the undead ninja approached the far shore, fitting nekode onto his natural (albeit fleshless) hand before sliding the metal digits of his augmetic into the bamboo bulwark. Ascending in a bound and using a few punctuated strikes, Kanden crossed over the top of the wall—wincing in pain at the electrified razorwire on its outside edge but easily enduring a shock that would kill a human—and into Masama Nipyurēta’s estate before the sentry turned back around.
______Leaping onto an adjacent rooftop and crouching against the inside of the wall, Kanden assessed the security of the estate. More samurai (many with augmetics replacing their eyes or ears) wandered about the grounds and with so many enhanced warriors at his disposal, the necroji ninja thought, the masters were sure to garner valuable information from Nipyurēta. Mentally recalling the maps he’d been given and orienting himself with the front gate of the manor, Kanden silently jumped across buildings, keen to avoid detection and carefully watching the perimeter wall for any signs of sentries. Listening for the hiss of escaping pressure from one of their augmetics he carefully circled the second floor of the main house, working towards the northeastern corner and the Masuto bengoshi’s private study. Carefully unlocking a window and sliding it to the side, he slipped into the building and approached a table holding a tray of combs, ointments, and salves.
______Kanden reached into his pocket and produced the item the masters had spent thousands of imperial pieces crafting: a simple kanzashi. A casual observer would never notice it, but behind the comb’s sheen of lacquered wood were antennae and receivers, able to record sounds and transmit them across great distances. Most importantly the item looked absolutely identical to one of Bengoshi Nipyurēta’s personal items, something sure to be near many private discussions of import. Taking the original kanzashi and breaking it between the mechanical fingers of his hand augmetic, Kanden depressed a small imperfection on its replacement, activating the device before slipping back out the window.
______Dropping back to the ground to avoid the wall sentries and running along the perimeter of the fortress, Kanden spotted an opening forming between the guards stalking atop the bulwark. Bounding up on piston-powered steam augmetics, the necroji landed deftly atop a building, exposed for only a moment. Crouching low and judging how far of a leap would be needed to pass entirely over the wall, the modulated voice of a samurai bellowed out and caused the ninja to stumble, falling forward and back to the estate’s grounds, “HALT!”
Dai-Lan and the Black Markets of Sanbaoshi
The sharp smell of solder filled the air, insufficiently masked by a musky incense that filled the small, dark room. Dai-Lan stood surrounded by shelves stuffed with inconsequential toys and bits—though some might even have value, they were just a front for the store’s real purpose.
______Lan’s pack lay heavy against his belly, both literally and figuratively. He was eager to sell it; there was no telling when the Imperial Guard would make their next pass through the district. He drummed his fingers over the package once again until the shop’s owner—a mousy man who wore clothing far too large for him—finally appeared.
______“I’ve got some new product.” Lan proposed, skipping over the formal greeting on account of the bad feeling he had. They would have minutes, at best. “But I am in a hurry, so...” he trailed off as he dumped out the cloth onto the table, the metal clanking heavily.
______Nothing was particularly fragile, but the shopkeeper picked up each piece like it might fall apart at any second, examining them carefully from every angle: a small, powerful air compressor; a clockwork hand with a concealed, spring-mounted blade inside; a mouthpiece that enabled you to speak in a half-dozen different voices. None of it was particularly dangerous or even valuable—but all of it was just on the other side of Sanbaoshi law.
______“I have some other pieces you might be interested in,” the shopkeeper drawled, producing a tiny yet complex sphere from within the folds of one of his sleeves, “This doodad, for example, can walk and even carry out simple instructions.”
______Dai-Lan lacked the humor for this tired routine.“I have no need for toys. I am interested in gold.” The fact that every time he claimed to be in a rush, the shopkeeper would offer him a toy frustrated him greatly.
______“I have a shirt made of golden chain,” the man offered. “It would go well with your complexion.”
______“Coin. Imperial stamp. No more playing.” Lan frowned, causing his lips to purse and his ears to stick out unusually far from the sides of his head (even when he was in human form).
______“Fine, fine,” the old man replied, looking at him wryly. “How does one hundred and fifty sound?”
______It sounded like highway robbery but it compared favorably to getting thrown into prison—they don’t treat hengeyokai very well on the inside, even in the Imperial Prefecture. “Good enough. Quickly, I was not joking when I said I was in a hurry.”
______The man behind the counter raised his eyebrows in half surprise, not expecting such a deal to have been accepted, and opened a concealed panel in one wall to reveal what must have been thousands of coins.
______But Lan didn’t have a chance to count, or even collect. The door to the shop slammed open—all the more worryingly because Lan had locked it behind him—and he heard the sound of heavy footprints on the bamboo floor. A guard wearing imperial mountain armor, no doubt.
______“Sorry, too late.” Lan muttered quietly, sweeping everything on the counter into the pack slung across his chest. Not wasting a motion, he leapt up over the tabletop—but Dai-Lan the man didn’t land on the other side. Instead there was a small monkey with slate-gray hair and golden eyes darting out the back of the shop.
______“It isn’t what it looks like...” Lan heard the man exclaim to one of the guards who wasn’t attempting to follow him. At least the man didn’t know Lan’s name—and neither did he know the name of the shopkeeper. Anonymity was the best protection in the black market. So long as he could outrun the heavily armed fellow that was already falling behind, he’d be home free...
Stop by the Kickstarter page to get FOUR FREE PDFs (Mists of Akuma: Primer, Imperial Dragons, Martial Arts Stances, and Tsukumogami) to see what the eastern fantasy noir steampunk campaign setting has to offer (including new classes, backgrounds, races, creatures, feats, and more)!
The project updates are coming along too -- check them out to see the Ancestral Weapons feat and two new augmetics!
Throughout the Kickstarter campaign we're releasing short stories as well, giving you a deeper look into the world of Soburin!
Kanden and the Innocuous Kanzashi
Situated a few miles from the walls of Sanbaoshi, Masama Nipyurēta’s home was like estates of any of the Masuto Imperial family’s prized bengoshi officials: a sprawling fortress, practically a miniature city unto itself. Tightening the fittings on his augmetics and waiting for the nearby guard to turn her attention elsewhere, Kanden made a crouching dash for the wall and dived into its moat after a rapid sprint just as she began walking away. Ignoring most of the virulent toxins within the water the undead ninja approached the far shore, fitting nekode onto his natural (albeit fleshless) hand before sliding the metal digits of his augmetic into the bamboo bulwark. Ascending in a bound and using a few punctuated strikes, Kanden crossed over the top of the wall—wincing in pain at the electrified razorwire on its outside edge but easily enduring a shock that would kill a human—and into Masama Nipyurēta’s estate before the sentry turned back around.
______Leaping onto an adjacent rooftop and crouching against the inside of the wall, Kanden assessed the security of the estate. More samurai (many with augmetics replacing their eyes or ears) wandered about the grounds and with so many enhanced warriors at his disposal, the necroji ninja thought, the masters were sure to garner valuable information from Nipyurēta. Mentally recalling the maps he’d been given and orienting himself with the front gate of the manor, Kanden silently jumped across buildings, keen to avoid detection and carefully watching the perimeter wall for any signs of sentries. Listening for the hiss of escaping pressure from one of their augmetics he carefully circled the second floor of the main house, working towards the northeastern corner and the Masuto bengoshi’s private study. Carefully unlocking a window and sliding it to the side, he slipped into the building and approached a table holding a tray of combs, ointments, and salves.
______Kanden reached into his pocket and produced the item the masters had spent thousands of imperial pieces crafting: a simple kanzashi. A casual observer would never notice it, but behind the comb’s sheen of lacquered wood were antennae and receivers, able to record sounds and transmit them across great distances. Most importantly the item looked absolutely identical to one of Bengoshi Nipyurēta’s personal items, something sure to be near many private discussions of import. Taking the original kanzashi and breaking it between the mechanical fingers of his hand augmetic, Kanden depressed a small imperfection on its replacement, activating the device before slipping back out the window.
______Dropping back to the ground to avoid the wall sentries and running along the perimeter of the fortress, Kanden spotted an opening forming between the guards stalking atop the bulwark. Bounding up on piston-powered steam augmetics, the necroji landed deftly atop a building, exposed for only a moment. Crouching low and judging how far of a leap would be needed to pass entirely over the wall, the modulated voice of a samurai bellowed out and caused the ninja to stumble, falling forward and back to the estate’s grounds, “HALT!”
Dai-Lan and the Black Markets of Sanbaoshi
The sharp smell of solder filled the air, insufficiently masked by a musky incense that filled the small, dark room. Dai-Lan stood surrounded by shelves stuffed with inconsequential toys and bits—though some might even have value, they were just a front for the store’s real purpose.
______Lan’s pack lay heavy against his belly, both literally and figuratively. He was eager to sell it; there was no telling when the Imperial Guard would make their next pass through the district. He drummed his fingers over the package once again until the shop’s owner—a mousy man who wore clothing far too large for him—finally appeared.
______“I’ve got some new product.” Lan proposed, skipping over the formal greeting on account of the bad feeling he had. They would have minutes, at best. “But I am in a hurry, so...” he trailed off as he dumped out the cloth onto the table, the metal clanking heavily.
______Nothing was particularly fragile, but the shopkeeper picked up each piece like it might fall apart at any second, examining them carefully from every angle: a small, powerful air compressor; a clockwork hand with a concealed, spring-mounted blade inside; a mouthpiece that enabled you to speak in a half-dozen different voices. None of it was particularly dangerous or even valuable—but all of it was just on the other side of Sanbaoshi law.
______“I have some other pieces you might be interested in,” the shopkeeper drawled, producing a tiny yet complex sphere from within the folds of one of his sleeves, “This doodad, for example, can walk and even carry out simple instructions.”
______Dai-Lan lacked the humor for this tired routine.“I have no need for toys. I am interested in gold.” The fact that every time he claimed to be in a rush, the shopkeeper would offer him a toy frustrated him greatly.
______“I have a shirt made of golden chain,” the man offered. “It would go well with your complexion.”
______“Coin. Imperial stamp. No more playing.” Lan frowned, causing his lips to purse and his ears to stick out unusually far from the sides of his head (even when he was in human form).
______“Fine, fine,” the old man replied, looking at him wryly. “How does one hundred and fifty sound?”
______It sounded like highway robbery but it compared favorably to getting thrown into prison—they don’t treat hengeyokai very well on the inside, even in the Imperial Prefecture. “Good enough. Quickly, I was not joking when I said I was in a hurry.”
______The man behind the counter raised his eyebrows in half surprise, not expecting such a deal to have been accepted, and opened a concealed panel in one wall to reveal what must have been thousands of coins.
______But Lan didn’t have a chance to count, or even collect. The door to the shop slammed open—all the more worryingly because Lan had locked it behind him—and he heard the sound of heavy footprints on the bamboo floor. A guard wearing imperial mountain armor, no doubt.
______“Sorry, too late.” Lan muttered quietly, sweeping everything on the counter into the pack slung across his chest. Not wasting a motion, he leapt up over the tabletop—but Dai-Lan the man didn’t land on the other side. Instead there was a small monkey with slate-gray hair and golden eyes darting out the back of the shop.
______“It isn’t what it looks like...” Lan heard the man exclaim to one of the guards who wasn’t attempting to follow him. At least the man didn’t know Lan’s name—and neither did he know the name of the shopkeeper. Anonymity was the best protection in the black market. So long as he could outrun the heavily armed fellow that was already falling behind, he’d be home free...
