L5R - Ditched - A Winter Court 5 Sequel Story

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L5R - Ditched - A Winter Court 5 Sequel Story

Postby KakitaKaori » Sat Apr 22, 2017 5:24 am

Last edited by KakitaKaori on Tue Jul 31, 2018 6:02 pm, edited 9 times in total.
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Re: L5R - Ditched - A Winter Court 5 Sequel Story

Postby Kakita_Harun » Sat Apr 22, 2017 5:42 am

I wild just like to say for the record that as this scene is taking place, Harun is riding hell for leather to keep his promise to her. Unfortunately, the winter was particularly harsh that year and snow delayed him.

I feel sorry for Arahime, but she's still a teenager and has so much to learn!
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Re: L5R - Ditched - A Winter Court 5 Sequel Story

Postby KakitaKaori » Sun May 07, 2017 6:37 pm

Spring, 1236 - The Coast off Otosan Uchi

The wind sent her white hair flying like a banner streaming behind Arahime as she watched Otosan Uchi grow smaller and smaller in the distance. The weather was beautiful, the seas pristine, and her heart was far more turbulent than the waters.

The last three days had been a whirlwind. Her parents had used all their contacts and resources to swiftly prepare her for her trip. Her father had, somehow, managed to find a set of the light armor that the colonists favored, and had it shaped and freshly lacquered within two days. Her mother had had a seamstress prepare a new lightweight kimono of recent style, and also tucked in the beautiful, if scandalous, teal kimono she herself had been given by the old Mantis Clan Champion, Moshi Janisha, many years ago. The Emerald Champion himself had sent along a broach, and the Imperial Treasurer had provided a half a dozen letters of introduction to all those who owed him favors. She had a list of names and appearances and customs prepared for her to memorize.

And she knew all the preparation in the world would never be enough.

It was not the call of adventure that frightened her. Her father told stories of the Burning Sands, the exotic djinn and giant roc, of sorcerers and oases and magic carpets. She remembered hanging off of his every word, trying to imagine a world so far away. Her mother always watched the storytelling with a wistful smile, usually while she herself was buried in the depths of her own studies, either of the dark ways of Jigoku, or in the dance of letters and the court where she turned the priorities of the Voice, Hida Kozen, into action. Sometimes Harun had been there, also hanging off of Kousuda’s every word, though he worked harder to hide his interest.

He was always better at hiding how he felt.

Too much Fire and Air, That’s what her masters had told her. They tried to lead her to the paths of Void, of Earth, and Water, to the deep places in herself where she could find peace and center. To not allow her emotions to master her. And she had tried. But it was a struggle. How would she find patience and stillness in the heat of Zoegeku?

While she imagined the adventure, though, the truth was Arahime had never been far from her home. Though her parents had been away in Otosan Uchi while she was at the Academy, the Academy was just like home to her. She knew every rock and tree. In the colonies, even the trees themselves would be strange to her. That made her nervous, but that was not her greatest fear.

Her greatest source of fear was that, as young and as green as she was, she was to be entrusted with the life of the finest ambassador of the Crane? She had never been given much responsibility for anything. Too much fire and air, just as her Sensei had said. Too many convoluted thoughts and wild imaginings. Not enough faith.

Now she travelled to the end of the world, alone.

She took a deep breath of the familiarly salt-scented air. She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of wheeling seagulls.
She had a long journey before her. Perhaps she could push the thoughts of Harun, of her parents, of her home aside to focus on the moment.
Perhaps she could find her center out there on the ocean.
Perhaps the moment would be enough to carry her through.




Late Spring, 1236 - The Ivory Kingdom Coastline

Arahime had never seen so much green.

In the halls of the Kakita Academy, there were pictures painted by the famous Grandmaster Painter, Kakita Toshiki, that showed the Kitsune Mori before the devastation the Crab had wrought upon it. Her mother had drawn pictures in the air of the deep forests of the Isawa Mori with its many dark pines and ancient pathways. Neither were anything like the coastline that rapidly approached.

The trees did not come in one height, but were layered with tiers that went up towards heaven like the roofs of a pagoda. A thin strip of pearl-white beach fronted rows of trees with long, thin trunks with no branches like bamboo, their leaves a brush at the top that shaded the ground. Every so often, she could catch a glimpse of a flash of bright red or blue, the wings of some brilliantly colored bird.

It had been a long trip, and Arahime was more at peace with it than she had been when she had left. She was still not happy with leaving so fast, but the prospect of new faces and new lands were intriguing. Harun would have liked it…. She crushed the thought quickly. Those thoughts were for a different time and a different land and she could not afford the sin of regret. She told herself she was going to enjoy every single moment this strange world had to offer her, and do the very best she could to serve the ambassador and her clan with excellence.
And maybe see something beautiful along the way.

“Beautiful and deadly.”

Arahime turned. One of the Mantis sailors on the ship nodded his head at the jungle while he tightened a rope that held the sail.
“The Ruined Kingdom. The jungles. There’s colors there you’ve never seen before, Kakita-sama. Ruins bigger than anything you’d believe. But creatures the size of any oni that hauled itself out of Kanpeki’s black butthole. Insects with poison as vile as a scorpions, and ants that would eat a bushi under his own armor. Those that go in those jungles don’t come out. No, I wouldn’t go ashore there...but from here? Beautiful.”

Arahime ignored the coarse language and nodded her understanding and appreciation of the warning. She had no intention of trying to leave the city anyway; her charge was unlikely to go adventuring in the jungle at his age anyway.

As the ship approached the mouth of the river, small fishing villages began to dot the banks. They looked very similar to the villages near Otosan Uchi she had ridden to with her parents as a little girl. She remembered joining with the village children, learning to swim and play in the waves, as some of her earliest memories.

The great stone archways and palaces, crumbling in places, looked ancient...as ancient as the oldest parts of the crumbling city of Otosan Uchi, but in a way that was completely alien to her. Each giant block of moss and ivy-covered stone crept slowly past as the ship made its slow and stately progress upstream.

The land grew more densely inhabited the further upstream they went. Villages carved and standing on the ruins of Ivory Kingdom fortresses, then small towns built inside the shells of great palaces, then larger cities built around intact buildings. Finally, the banners and ships and grandiosity of a mighty port, and a spread of farmlands that seemed very much the tranquil domesticity of her home. Beyond the port and these lands lay the capital of these lands of the Rinjin. Home of the Warlord, and favored of the Thunder Dragon. Second City.



Late Spring, 1236 - Second City

The whirlwind of disembarking, the strange sights and sounds, it was all Arahime could do to keep from gawking as she followed the servant that had been sent to bring her to the Crane Ambassador. The road from the docks was greater than she imagined; there had been much recent building there. Beyond the stalls and houses that lined the road, the samurai-ko could see more of the farmland she had seen as she approached by river. She was led past low walls and through an area of merchants and artisans, their booths and stalls crowded together worse than the merchants that gathered around Tsume village for market day. Beyond the peasant and merchant districts, huge Kaiu-built walls surrounded the military district within, though the heimen refused to tell her the area’s real name when she pressed with her questions. Here, the buildings began to go up and up in height, reaching towards the heavens. The feeling was oppressive, as though they were all going to come tumbling in on her. However, there were areas more grim in Otosan Uchi, so she marched on, chin up, towards the inner wall that shielded the Inner District. Here, finally, the buildings of oppressive height at least had space between them for gardens and clear-running little streams. The servant led her up the steps to one of the smaller buildings in the district, well-appointed and marked by the statues that stood by its entrance as the new Embassy of the Crane. She was ushered inside to meet her new charge.

She instantly liked him. Doji Mushari was an older man, with white hair done up neatly in a traditional courtier’s cap, deeply tanned skin, and tired brown eyes. His face had a number of sun-worn spots and wrinkles furrowed his brow, but they served to bring animation and a gentle smile to his face as he invited Arahime to join him.

“My dear young woman,” he said, giving her a bow that honored her with an equal status. “I am so grateful that you are here. I met your father, years ago, when he came to discuss the paths of treating with gaijin used among the Ide. Kousuda-san was most inspirational, and I have had reason to call on his insights many times since I arrived at this post. I trust your journey was not too unpleasant.”

Arahime shook her head. “It was not. I’m told there are storms later in the summer, but the convoy left before late spring and we only had a few short bursts of wet weather.

“Excellent. I have not read the letters yet, but I look forward to the reports. Not all things are for the Morishita to read. I am certain I will learn more about you in the reports, and I have prepared one for you, about myself, about our situation, and everything I hope you will need. I know it is very difficult to adjust so quickly to a new situation, and you are fresh from your gempukku. I will do everything I can to make the transition smooth for you.”

“Thank you, Mushari-sama. I will do my best to serve,” Arahime answered.

Mushari poured a cup of some cool juice for Arahime and passed it to her and invited her to sit with him before a table set with a variety of kinds of foods, many of which were unfamiliar to her. After she was settled and comfortable, his tone grew less formal, but more grave. He sighed.

“Arahime-san. It is a difficult situation we are in here. The Warlord supports our endeavors. A few of the older families. It has taken much work, but relations are finally…comfortable…with the Morishita family and the Tenmei family. They are less good with the Nobumoto and poor with the Arashi and the Ota. Always we have striven to work with each family as fairly as possible, open to change and adaption, while still maintaining the structure that is needed for others to understand the depths of our sincerity. The older generation, the ones that remember being something other than Rinjin, who remember being samurai, understand still what was lost and what was gained as they become what they become.”

The older man offered her a bite of some small, round fruit. Its sweetness burst on her tongue, delicious after the long sea voyage. She savored the taste as he continued.

“When the founders of these families returned to this kingdom, many winters ago, before you were born, they carried with them the gift of the Emperor’s independence. It was a gift they sought eagerly. When the Onyx Empire sundered these lands from the Empire, the colonists that had been here felt abandoned and rejected. In the long break of contact between the Empire and Zoegeku, they had no advocate in the ways of the culture of the Empire. And, with our own hands bound, and the Empire so distant, we were not able to teach them as we should. Perhaps it, too, is a place where the Crane have failed, as we have in so many ways in the face of these battles.”

“But we couldn’t...!” Arahime leapt to the defense of her clan, but Mushari raised his hand to stop her. “No, Arahime-san. You will need to bear much more than simple words of honest reflection. You will have to bear insult to you. To our clan. Each clan has done wrong and right over the years. The times have been hard, and all of us have struggled, won, and sometimes failed in our duties over the years. But failure has its cost. Especially when combined with the anger of those who are quick to blame others for their own sufferings. You will hear every sort of calumny spoken about the Children of Doji here.”

Arahime closed her mouth tightly and tried to listen as Mushari continued. “Those founders of the Great Houses were eager to explore what their independence was, to make something new. We could not provide a culture for them, so they created their own. They raised up the lost past of these lands, drawing on the customs and culture and the resources of the Ivinda who had gone before, rather than taming their hearts into the ways of the samurai of Rokugan. Once independence was granted, they rejoiced in their newfound uniqueness. They enjoyed the goods of the Empire, but they had no desire to re-embrace its ways.”

The young samurai-ko listened carefully, suppressing her questions. She took a sip of the pale white liquid that Mushari had poured for her and focused on maintaining her face as he went on.

“This older generation has no love for the Onyx, and tells stories of the lands of Rokugan and what was lost. They do appreciate the gift the Emperor gave to them and the debts they owe, and only rarely speak of them with resentment. But their children…for them it is a different matter. The Empire is very distant to them. The monsters the Great Clans fight, almost a myth. The Emperor is a foreign power that strips away their wealth and their resources fighting a foe that for these young ones barely exists. These young people are children of the world their parents wished to create, and that world has little space for the ancient ways.”

He lowered his eyes to his cup, and there was surprising compassion in his tone. “It is not fair to say there is no suffering here. Each year the monsoons crash down upon them. Creatures emerge from the jungles to extract their price, and diseases can be swift and deadly. But in good years and bad, the Crane collect the debts. We need this repayment, for our treasuries are stripped empty and every koku we have goes to fund the war and feed the people, but here they do not understand. Every year, some of their heimen leave to return to our lands, for we have recruiters among them who arrange passage for any who wish to go. The Ivinda population grows. For these many troubles, it is...convenient...for many to blame the Crane. Their wrath at the Crab and Lion may be greater, but they are not here. We are.”

The Kakita could hear in his tone much of the way her father spoke as he tried to help her resolve her differences with her younger brother, Masarugi, or when he would come to visit the academy and she’d complain to him of the troubles Harun was facing. The boys who teased him used to make her so angry! But her father would try to explain what it was to be frightened of change, and how Harun, how he, himself, who was once Ide, was a great change to many in his new family, and change took time. Mushari too seemed to at least try to understand those who hated him.
How could the daughter of Kakita Kousuda do less?

She bowed to the Doji. “I will try to understand and keep my patience, Doji-sama. I do get angry sometimes, but I will try.”

The Crane ambassador returned her bow. “And you will succeed,” he said plainly. “You must. Without a yojimbo, I must tread even more carefully. You are my only worthy champion, and a duel stands, here as in Rokugan, as the final test of truth when persuasion and diplomacy have failed. Without my faithful guard, I am forced into ever weaker stances. I have not been able to bring in more artisans or courtiers to help them learn the ways of the Empire or to temper this hot court, because I cannot provide them safety. I cannot challenge falsehoods made against us. I cannot afford to lose you, Arahime-san. But we cannot start any unnecessary duels or trouble. The Crane still need this vital link of trade, and we cannot make our relations with the houses that favor us worse. “ He drained his cup and set it down to give her a grandfatherly smile. “It is a heavy burden I place on your shoulders, Kakita Arahime-san. But I know the strength of your family. I know you will survive the trials of this place, and excel. However difficult they might be.”





As Kakita Arahime stared at the ceiling in her chamber that night, feeling the floor sway beneath with the remaining vertigo of her sea-voyage, she certainly hoped the old Doji was right.
Last edited by KakitaKaori on Sun Jun 25, 2017 5:15 am, edited 4 times in total.
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Re: L5R - Ditched - A Winter Court 5 Sequel Story

Postby KakitaKaori » Sun May 14, 2017 7:31 pm

Late Spring, 1236 - Second City

The old Doji had done what he could. In the way of the Doji, he considered it his duty to look after every tiny detail. Her room was comfortable and serene. He had already had prepared for her clothing in exactly the correct current fashion for yojimbo in the court, though he had noted that her armor was perfectly appropriate. But it was hard to keep her face correctly impassive as she followed him into the colonnaded courtyard that served as the Warlord’s palace. She felt like she was walking out onto a battlefield naked.

She immediately drew eyes from throughout the court. Mushari was old, a familiar face. They were used to seeing his white hair and blue eyes. But Arahime’s pale skin, long, ivory locks, and stormy gray eyes, stood out in a stark contrast amidst these darker faces. It had been several years since a Crane maiden, especially one of the kuge, had appeared in these halls. Perhaps it was the shortness of her kimono, but Arahime could feel hungry eyes upon her.

Mushari led her to a man, around her mother’s age, with green eyes and his red hair streaked with white from an early age. He bowed to him, and then made a gesture towards her. She bowed also, more deeply.

“Morishita-sama, please allow me to introduce my new yojimbo, Kakita Arahime. She has just arrived on the Cormorant from Otosan Uchi” He turned slightly to face Arahime. “Arahime-san, I am privileged to introduce you to the head of the Great House Morishita.”

Arahime’s quick mind raced over the notes that her mother had prepared for her and that she had memorized as she bowed again. Used to be Kitsune. Shugenja. Testy. Has Red Panda spirit. A few other things. “Morishita-sama,” she offered as smoothly as she was able. “It is an honor to meet such a renowned Restorer-of-the-Lands. How are the efforts here in these lands going?”

The Shugenja cocked his head thoughtfully, looking the girl up and down. “Well,” he offered Mushari. “She’s more polite than the last one. That is something, I suppose.” He turned to address Arahime directly. “We’ve reclaimed about as much of the jungle as we can, barring help from the Emperor, which we’re not going to get. Naturally. But it is polite of you to ask.” He rubbed the short beard he wore. “You look familiar to me. Do you have family from the Colonies?”

Arahime darted an uncertain glance towards Mushari, who stepped in smoothly. “She is the daughter to a Crane poet. Kakita Kyoumi. I believe she wrote a sequence of stories that was quite popular here about six years ago called the ‘Journey of the Woodpecker?’ Delightful tales.”

Lord Morishita acknowledged the name, but Arahime could not help but think the man’s smile looked rather awkward. “Well, we shall see if your new yojimbo can outstrip her predecessors in honor, Mushari-san.” He gave a small bow to both and departed.

Mushari watched him go thoughtfully.



There were other introductions, a whirlwind. Some of the names she had memorized previously, some she had not but did her best. All were older men and women, similar in age to Mushari. The last introduction, made towards the end of the day, was the Warlord himself.

The scrolls Arahime had studied had described the Warlord’s heritage, part Ivinda, part Moshi from the days before the colonies had received their independence, part son of Yoritomo, born from the Scorpion, adopted child of the Son of Storms. He was a slender, tall man, with dark, dark skin, even darker than Harun’s, with long gray hair and odd, gaijin eyes that evaluated her like the Master Gardener would take the measure of a new tree taking root in his garden. Like a man trying to decide if this tree should be uprooted or fostered. She bent knee properly, keeping in perfect alignment with her charge, though adjusting for her lower station.

The Warlord’s expression was cool. “Welcome to Second City. I hope you have the chance to enjoy all that we have to offer.”

The words were neutral, but it sounded like an instruction. “I look forward to it, Arashi-sama.” Equally neutral, but eager to please. That should work.

The Warlord then made a gesture, and a much younger man, much the same in appearance as the Warlord, stepped forward. He was only a year or two older than Arahime herself. He too had long black hair in a flowing tail and dark, dark skin, though his eyes were not as wide and gaijin. She could feel those eyes running over her. He was wearing a loose-fitting kimono of teal silk that showed off his muscular chest. The younger man bowed politely. “Allow me to introduce my only grandson, Seiho-kun,” the Warlord offered.

Arahime bowed back towards the younger man. Once again, she felt very self-conscious as the eyes of the court turned upon her, and could draw no sense of intent from the Warlord’s beast-eyes. “I am honored to meet you, Seiho-sama.”

The Warlord’s grandson smiled, his white teeth flashing. “I find myself jealous of old Mushari-san, that he may spend so much time basking in this radiance. I hope he would not object if I pluck a few small moments of your time to introduce you to the wonders of Second City.” His voice was smooth and charming and altogether too forward.

Arahime felt an instinctive pang of immediate loathing which she managed to keep from her face. This may not be in my duties, but I must not be rude. Maybe a polite refusal? “Surely you would be too busy to act as guide for a simple yojimbo such as me.”

“Is that not the lesson of the Crane that time spent in the presence of great beauty is never wasted?” Seiho seemed pleased with his cleverness in the response.

Oh no. He’s taking it as a gift. Now there was no getting out of it. Arahime tried to keep her voice neutral as she answered, “There is such great beauty in these lands already, bright colors and vivid sights. I am plain and pale in comparison.”

“Ah, but half the beauty of these flowers are in their exotic nature, and here, you are a rare bloom. I would be honored to be seen in the presence of such a rarity.”

Arahime’s bow helped her conceal her frustration. The Arashi was greater rank than her; she had little choice anyway. “I would be happy to see these exotic sights then, if Mushari-sama finds opportunity to grant me leave, Seiho-sama.”

She could hear the faint sound of tittering from behind her, where a number of the other younger courtiers stood with their fans raised. On being dismissed, she straightened and turned, but the laughter stopped as she turned to face them. But she could feel the eyes of many upon her. Evaluating her, judging her, weighing her as an ally, obstacle or threat.

On the way out of the door, she and the ambassador were intercepted by one of the young women of the court, wearing the mons of the Ota family.

“Oh, Mushari-sama, please let us welcome your new yojimbo,” the courtier said. “It looks like she will be so popular....and terribly...exotic. I am sure many of the young men of the court cannot wait to enjoy some time in her presence. And the rest of us cannot wait to find out how closely she resembles all we have heard of the legendary beauties of the Crane.”

The woman’s words were perfectly effusive and polite, but her inferences hit Arahime like a blow. How dare they? But Ambassador Mushari just nodded and smiled without responding, leading Arahime away while she focused on maintaining her On.

More eyes followed her on the way out. She straightened her back and tilted her chin up. Ignore them. Focus on your duty, Arahime. Serve.
Last edited by KakitaKaori on Sun Jun 25, 2017 5:15 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: L5R - Ditched - A Winter Court 5 Sequel Story

Postby Kakita Shiro » Tue May 16, 2017 11:23 am

How far the former Colonies have fallen. Tsk tsk.
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Re: L5R - Ditched - A Winter Court 5 Sequel Story

Postby KakitaKaori » Sat May 27, 2017 9:38 am

Last edited by KakitaKaori on Sun Jun 25, 2017 5:15 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: L5R - Ditched - A Winter Court 5 Sequel Story

Postby Kakita Shiro » Sat May 27, 2017 1:29 pm

I suppose it's too soon to just kill Seiho.
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Re: L5R - Ditched - A Winter Court 5 Sequel Story

Postby KakitaKaori » Sat May 27, 2017 3:02 pm

You warm my heart, Shiro-sama!
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Re: L5R - Ditched - A Winter Court 5 Sequel Story

Postby Kakita_Harun » Sun May 28, 2017 5:35 am

If a Harun was there, he'd do it.
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Re: L5R - Ditched - A Winter Court 5 Sequel Story

Postby KakitaKaori » Mon Jun 05, 2017 5:55 pm

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