Temple of the General

 

by Rich Wulf



            Doji Tanitsu hesitated for a moment. He knew in his heart that this must be done, but he had never committed an act so pre­sumptuous, so foolish, or so blasphemous. And yet his intentions were honorable, if that even mattered. The Seppun guardsmen understood his intent, else they would never have permitted him entrance despite his station in the Emperor’s court. Tanitsu’s hand strayed to the simple netsuke adorning his obi, a radiant sun forged in purest gold. The Emperor had given it to him as a reminder of a woman they had both loved. Tanitsu let it give him strength, then lifted his hand and rapped softly on the wooden frame surrounding the door to the Emperor’s private chambers.

There was a moment of silence, then... “Enter.”

Tanitsu hesitated again for the briefest of moments. No one was ever invited into the Emperor’s private chambers. It was unprecedented. But to disobey would be unthinkable, and far more blasphemous than even what he had done thus far. With a silent prayer to his ancestors, Tanitsu slid the door open and obeyed his Emperor’s command.

Toturi III sat at his writing desk, pen and paper lying undisturbed before him. His normally resplendent garments were nowhere to be seen, as the Emperor was clad in far simpler clothes than Tanitsu had ever seen. His hair was not gathered in the traditional topknot, but flowed openly down his back. His eyes had a distant, thoughtful quality. “Tanitsu,” he said calmly. “Why have you disturbed me?”

Tantisu knelt in an instant. “I beg your forgiveness, Son of Heaven. My motives are foolish. I have no right to intrude upon your private meditations.”

“I would be spared the customary self-deprecating behaviour so many seem eager to indulge in my presence, at least for today,” the Emperor said flatly. “I know full well you would never have approached my chambers unless the matter was grave.”

Tanitsu nodded. “It has been seven days, my lord. There are many urgent matters that require your attention. Matters that may affect the entire Empire.”

“And are there no others to attend these matters?” Naseru asked.

“I do not believe there are,” Tanitsu said honestly. “You have always insisted that I serve to remind you what is best for the Empire in the event that you should forget. I do not believe you ever shall, but I must obey your commands. Even at a time such as this.”

A wry smile appeared on the Emperor’s face. “Ever the diplomat, Tanitsu. You are right, of course.” He rose from where he sat at the desk. “I had intended to return to matters of state, but I have had much to ponder these past seven days. My life has been an eventful one... many things have changed. Yet some things I had always assumed would not. Some things I assumed would be forever. I suppose I am a fool for believing so.”

Tanitsu looked down. “The death of Toku-sama is a great loss to us all,” he offered, “but more so to you, my lord.”

Naseru nodded. “My father once told me that there was no person in Rokugan more honest and more true than the General. As a young man, I could not fathom why a peasant was permitted to survive after assuming the station of a samurai.” He smiled again. “That was before I met him, of course. He was... the truest hero I have known. Those who call him samurai should presume themselves lucky to share that title with the General, who deserved it most.”

“He would be honored by your grief.”

“No,” the Emperor corrected with a sudden intensity. “He would be shamed that I have forsaken other matters to mourn his loss. And I shall do so no longer. Summon my servants to attend me, Tanitsu, and prepare the most pressing matters for me to deal with within the hour.”

“At once, my Emperor.”

“And summon my scribes,” the Emperor added as Tanitsu turned to leave. “I would pen a letter to my Champions, that we might all remember our heroes.”

 

 

Toku, lord of the Monkey Clan, is dead. The great hero of a thousand battles gave his life that the Black Scrolls might be kept out of the hands of Iuchiban the Bloodspeaker. His loss was mourned by many, including the Emperor, whose father Toku served loyally for years.


The Emperor has decreed that a grand temple will be constructed to honor Toku’s memory. It shall be among the most splendid in all of Rokugan, recognizing the general’s glorious life and virtuous example. Even those who looked with disdain upon Toku’s lineage cannot deny the enormity of his contribution to history. Anyone whose lands hosted such a grand temple would be visited by thousands of loyal devotees each year.


The winning faction of this tournament shall have Shinden Toku constructed within their clan’s lands, bringing honor and glory both to the general and the clan in the process. If the Shadowlands is victorious, then the temple shall be constructed in the lands of the second place winner, but will be infiltrated by the Bloodspeakers even as it is built. If the Nezumi win, the temple will be constructed in unaligned lands and guarded over by a tribe of Nezumi who wish to honor Toku’s kindness to them over the years.