by
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.