It should be TAK PROSZĘ...

I will get to it then! Though the fact that I'm moving in two days to a new apartment put a giant STOP sign on everything hobby related :D.

A story I wrote long ago:

Tamoru was one of thousands of peasants that had been pressed into service as ashigaru for the Dragon Armies, under the command of the Black Lion, Toturi. Tamoru was equipped with a yari, helm and reinforce gi, and was marched out to war. As the army marched toward Beiden Pass, Tamoru was assigned to a unit under the personal command of a Taisa (captain) of the Dragon Clan, Mirumoto Nayoa. Tamoru was taught to use his yari, and his unit drilled for several hours every day, both in the morning before taking up the march, and at night when camp was being set up. Late into the night, the captain would talk with his unit, instructing them and answering their questions. Theology, History, Strategy, Tactics, Bushido, Honor, The Celestial Order, Bushido, Karma; night after night they would discuss different topics. One night, while discussing battle strategy, Tamoru asked what the unit should do in battle. Nayoa replied that they only had to do four things:

1. Obey your superiors orders until death takes you
2. Follow your commander, regardless of where he goes
3. Use any means necessary to kill your enemies
4. Act as if all the universe depends on your actions

When the army arrived at Beiden Pass, they found the Crab army encamped there. The main pass was the only break in the mountains large enough to move an army through, but it wasn’t the only pass through the mountains. Dozens of crevasses and cracks snaked their way along and around, into and out of the main pass. These secondary passes would allow smaller units to pop up on the flanks and behind any force stationed in the pass. Most of these were well scouted, and had been fortified, or were guarded by the Crab forces. However, in the chaos of battle, with shugenja casting magics and engineers and sappers working to counteract their opponents, new fissures were opening up on a regular basis. Also, crevasses previously blocked by rubble could be cleared to allow a multi front assault. Tamoru’s division was tasked with scouting the existing and new pathways, probing for tactical advantages, and holding them against surprise Crab attacks. One of the new pathways was wide enough for a horse and rider, and Nayoa personally lead his unit into it at dawn. Tamoru was in the front of the unit, and had cleared a long corridor between two high walls, coming through a tight corner at the end. He saw the pass opened up ahead, and forked, one path continuing to run parallel to the main pass, and the other rising up and around the high peaks to their right. Tamoru scouted for enemies or ambush, and was going to return and report when the attack came.

The high walls of the pass gave way, and crashed down, crushing most of the unit under tons of rock and stone. Nayoa had the presence of mind to spur his horse forward at the first sound of the rockslide, clearing the turn and getting into the clearing near Tamoru. Only four other ashigaru survived the avalanche, they huddled together in the corridor, looking at the rubble that barred their return journey. A howl from above brought six sets of eyes upwards. A huge boulder crashed down onto the scared remnants of the unit, massed in the tight pass. Behind the boulder, an Ogre stood where he had pushed the boulder off the ledge only moments before.

Nayoa yelled “For Mirumoto” and charged up the path leading toward the ogre, drawing his katana as he rode. Tamoru, more on instinct than due to rational thought, ran after his commander. Nayoa quickly outdistanced Tamoru of course, and got to the top of the pass in a flash. The ogre was ready for him, however, and was hiding in side alcove waiting in ambush as Nayoa reached the top. The ogre charged out, pushing Nayoa and his horse over, knocking them to the hard rocky ground. The tip of the captain’s katana got wedged into a wall crack, and the blade snapped as he fell. Nayoa’s helmeted head slammed into the wall, and Nayoa lost his grip on broken sword. It hit the ground and bounced away across the rocky ground. Nayoa’s vision swam and flickered between light and darkness, a result of the concussion he had just received. He dimly knew he was in trouble, and feebly tried to get to his wakizashi. It was under his body, and he could not reach it. He tried to roll, but his horse was lying on his leg, and he was pinned. The beast thrashed and squirmed, but the ogre held it down with one hand. Mirumoto Nayoa looked up at the ogre, and saw the malevolent grin on the creature’s foul face. It looked straight at Nayoa, and showed him its club. Almost four feet long, and a foot wide at the end, with sharp bones and large teeth tied or wedged into the end. It was an ugly weapon, used to do ugly work. The ogre brought the club up into the sky, ready to slam it down onto the captain’s head.

It was just then that Tamoru appeared, at a full run, holding his yari across his body with the point forward. The ogre turned it’s head to see this new enemy, just in time to get an excellent look to Tamoru’s yari, as it plunged through the ogre’s left eye an into it’s brain. Tamoru kept going until the yari hit the inside of the ogre’s skull, and stopped. Tamoru twisted and swept the yari around inside the ogre’s brain, severing nerves and slashing the creature’s tiny brain to bits. When Tamoru drew his yari back, the ogre’s dead body slouched down on top of his captain’s horse. Tamoru stared at the ogre, shocked that he had been able to kill such a monster. This hesitation almost cost him his life, as a Goblin leapt over the ogre’s body and swung a short broken tetsubo at Tamoru. Tamoru was just able to get the haft of his spear in the path of the attack, keeping him alive. The yari however did not fare so well. The shaft cracked to the point of impact, and Tamoru held a piece of it in either hand. Tamoru threw the lower part, with out the tip, at the goblin. It hit the green creature in the nose, and the goblin stepped back, snarling and howling. That gave Tamoru enough room to thrust the other piece of spear into its chest. The goblin fell over dead, the broken spear logged in its heart. Tamoru looked around the clearing here, and did not see any other enemies. He turned to help his captain.

First, Tamoru went to the horse. It was thrashing and in a panic, due to the dead ogre on laying on it. Tamoru ripped his kimono top, and wrapped it around the horse’s eyes. The animal quickly calmed down and stopped it’s thrashing. Tamoru next checked on Nayoa. The captain was alive, but his eyes were glassy, and he was dazed and confused. Blood was slowly dripping from under his helmet. Tamoru went to the other side, and tried to pull the ogre off, but it was far too heavy. Tamoru went back around the ogre’s body, near Nayoa and the horse, and propped his back against the stonewall. Tamoru reached down to put his hands on the ground, and felt something there; it was Nayoa’s broken katana. Tamoru would worry about that later, put his hands on the ground, and both feet on the ogre’s chest. He closed his eyes, and pushed with all the might he could muster, grunting from the strain. The ogre’s body began to move, and finally slid off of the horse. The horse lay still, breathing freely with the beast off it’s back. Tamoru opened his eyes and exhaled sharply. He looked up to the sky, to thank the Fortunes and Kami, when he saw another goblin standing on top of the ogre. It must have been hiding in a crack when he looked around earlier. The goblin leapt at Tamoru. On instinct, Tamoru grabbed the broken katana, and held it out toward the falling goblin. The katana blade slipped right into the goblins mouth, and punched out the back of its skull.

Tamoru jumped up, afraid that they may be more goblins around. He grabbed the horse’s reigns, and led the animal to its feet. The horse was scratched and bruised, but was all right otherwise. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Mirumoto Nayoa. As the horse stood up, the pain of his broken leg crashed upon the captain. The sharp intense pain, cut through the fog of the concussion, and brought the captain back to crystal clarity in an instant. His lower leg had snapped under the weight of the falling horse, and the bone had punched a hole on the outside of his leg. Blood flowed from the wound freely, and Tamoru knew he had to treat this fast. Tamoru grabbed the captains ankle, and yanked the leg straight. This drew the bone back into the leg, and a glare of hatred from the captain. With the bone now set, Tamoru took some more of his kimono and placed it over the wound. He then cut several silk strips from the bottom of the Mirumoto’s kimono. He used one to tie the dressing to the wound. Tamoru then took the pieces of his yari, and fashioned a pair of splints, tying them to the captain’s leg with the other strips of silk.

His wounds treated, Tamoru helped the captain get to his feet, and onto his horse. The captain began to slump and sway in the saddle, as blood loss and his concussion returned to rob him of strength. Tamoru used his own obi to tie the captain to the saddle. Finally, ready to lead the horse out, Tamoru remembered that they had not finished scouting this pass. He needed a weapon in case they ran into the enemy. His yari was gone, the ogre’s club was far to big for him, and the goblins tetsubo was to small to be useful. The only weapon he had at hand, was the broken katana. Tamoru understood that it was death for him to take it, but also knew it was death for them both if he didn’t. The sword also represented the honor if his commander. He could not leave it here. He carefully pulled the broken tip from the wall, and slid it into the saya on the captain’s waist. Then he removed the rest of the sword from the dead goblins skull, and carried it as he led the horse down the path. When he got to the bottom, the boulders and rubble entombing the rest of his unit made a good rearguard, and he lead the horse out the other way. The captain mumbled and faded in and out of coherence as they wound through the pass. While he was clear headed, Tamoru told Nayoa what had happened. For hours the pass snaked back and forth, and Tamoru became totally lost. When they finally exited the mountain range, Tamoru did not know if they were on the northern or southern side. It was just about noon, and the sun was directly overhead, so that was no help. All he did know was Nayoa was beginning to fade, fast. If the Taisa did not get to a shugenja soon, he would die. Tamoru used the reigns to lash the captain to the horse’s neck, turned to his right, and moved parallel to the mountains in the open ground as quickly as he dared to go with the injured Taisa. Soon, in the distance, he could see an army encamped. Tamoru didn’t know if it was the Crab or the Dragon. Nayoa groaned, and slipped further down and around the horse’s neck. It did not matter who’s camp it was. Tamoru walked forward, calling the whole way “Taisa Mirumoto Nayoa is injured and needs a healer.” “This is a wounded Samurai Captain in need of aid.” “The Fortune’s and Kami’s blessings on any who aid my captain.”

As they approached, Tamoru kept shouting, calling for aid. He was making so much noise, he never even heard the outer guards move in to surround them. One second they were alone, the next they were surrounded by bushi. The bushi brown mottled colors to blend in with the rough terrain. Tamoru could not tell what clan had found them, and he did not get a chance to ask. The sword was torn from his hand, and a furoshiki sack was shoved over his head. The world went dark, and his hands were bound tightly behind his back. He was told to be silent, on pain of death, and lead away. Tamoru could hear the horse clomping along beside them for a while, then the sounds of the horse got fainter, as it was lead in another direction. Tamoru was lead away, and pushed onto the ground in a sitting position. He felt a pole slide along the inside of his arms, and heard the banging of a hammer hitting wood. He could feel the vibrations in the pole as it was driven into the ground, in the circle made up of his arms, back, and his tied hands. Tamoru sat there silently, sweating in the sack as the afternoon sun beat down on him. Tamoru leaned against the pole and fell asleep.

He had no idea how much time had passed when he was awoken by being pulled up to his feet. He was lead through the camp, from the sounds all around him, and was stopped. The bindings on his wrist were cut, and blood flowed to his hands again. He rubbed his hands and wrists as the bag was removed from his head. He was standing slightly between two bonfires, the light bathing him and blinding him. Through the fires, he could see three braziers burning with small fires of their own, and figures sitting beyond those, shrouded in vapor and darkness. They questioned him, making him tell his story, and asking leading questions to see if he was lying. After a while, they stopped asking what had happened, and began a new line of questioning.

“Why did you follow your captain and attack the ogre after he fell? Why didn’t you just hide, or sneak away” came a voice.

“My captain told me to obey orders until death took me. He had ordered an attack, and I was not dead. Also, I was instructed to follow my commander, wherever he goes, so I did”

“You know it is death to touch the swords of a samurai, yet you used one. Why” asked a different voice.

“It was the only thing I had at hand to kill an enemy of my clan,” Tamoru replied

“No one would have known if you left if there, why did you take it?” questioned a third voice.

“I needed a weapon in case we met any more enemies in the pass. My yari was broken, and there was nothing else available. It was also my captain’s sword and I would not dishonor him and his ancestors by leaving it there.”

“ Why did you take the captain with you when you left? Without him, you would have had a better chance?” said yet another voice.

“Mirumoto-sama taught us about Honor and Duty. It was my duty to do all I could to save him, I would have no honor if I did any less.”

“When you left the mountains, and you saw the army, you knew that it would mean your life, yet you came on anyway, why?” said the first voice.

“My captain would die if I left him. My life would be forfeit for bearing my captain’s sword. We were both fated for death, but if I could get Mirumoto-sama to a healer, he could live. Even if you are our enemies, you are honor bound to help my captain, and ransom him back to his clan.”

“And what are we to do with you?” came a weak voice.

“I must be executed, for my actions. I am of the Bonge, and I touched a samurai’s sword. I understand that, and am ready.”

“You are mostly correct, Tamoru-san,” came a familiar, if weak voice, “You were of the Bonge, but when you risked your life to fulfill your duty, you acted like a samurai. In that instant, you transcended the limits of your birth, and you became samurai. Your actions have saved your life, and you are now a ji-samurai, vassal to and in the service of the Mirumoto Clan. This honor is bestowed upon you in the name of the Daimyo of our Family, Mirumoto Hitomi,” said Mirumoto Nayoa, stepping into the light.

Tamoru could not believe his ears. He was expecting this to be the precursor to his execution. The braziers were pulled back, and he could see Mirumoto Hitomi, Shinjo Yokatsu, and Toturi smiling. He stood, shocked to silence, before the leaders of the Dragon and Unicorn Armies. Nayoa walked stiffly to stand in front of Tamoru. He held a short saya, with a long hilted sword sticking out of the top. “This was the broken sword you bore out of the pass, and used to save a fellow servant of the Dragon clan. It will never again be a katana, but has been reworked into a wakizashi. This blade is yours. It is the symbol of your new status, and the honor you have displayed today. Bear it with honor and pride, in service to the dragon always.” With that, Nayoa handed Tamoru the wakizashi. Tamoru was so flummoxed, he did not even think to refuse it three times, but that was ok. He had risked his life on many levels today, and had walked the edge of the razor, making it through, and deserved the rewards for his efforts.

Nayoa returned to action a couple of days later, and was accompanied by Tamoru. They fought together and killed many enemies, until the evil creature known as Oni no Yakomo arrived at Beiden Pass. Nayoa fell in a vicious counterattack lead by the Oni, and Tamoru fought on without his mentor and hero. Tamoru survived all the battles through the second Day of Thunder, and was allowed to return to his home. He never actually received a katana, to complete his Daisho set, but that did not matter to him. The wakizashi was more than he had ever dreamed he could obtain, and was an honorable samurai for the rest of his life.

One More, from long ago:

In the anti-chamber of Ide Tamaru’s office, Shinjo Kurimoko awaited her audience with the senior magistrate. She scanned the room, admiring the trophies that Tamaru-sama had acquired in a life of service to the Unicorn. The shoji screen slid open, and Kurimoko moved into Tamaru’s office.

“Report.” Barked the senior magistrate.

“As was suspected,” began the young woman, “the crime was perpetrated by one of the peasant stable-boys. He confessed to having stolen the stallion, and claimed that a Scorpion Samurai had arranged to take possession in the city of Pokau.”

“Thieves have been claiming that some samurai or another was the mastermind behind the theft since my first days as a magistrate.” Replied Tamaru.

“Yes sir, but this thief actually had 2 koku with the Scorpion’s Clan symbol on them. Since he was just a lowly stable boy, with no way to have legitimately have obtained the koku, we decided to investigate this further. We took the stable boy with us, and rode onto Pokau. Once there we reported to the magistrates of Pokau, and informed them of our investigation, asking for permission to pursue justice in their city. They agreed, but required us to allow a Soshi Magistrate to accompany us on our mission. We then had the stable boy make contact with his accomplice. There was a skirmish and we were able to capture the man, but not without cost. He mortally wounded my yoriki, and the stable boy was killed in the confrontation. The Soshi have declared him ronin, and graciously allowed him to be returned here to Turo-Kojiri for trial. Here is the sworn testimony of the Soshi Magistrate, and the written authority to return the ronin for justice. He has been delivered to the prison, and is now in the custody of the warden.” As she finished, Shinjo Kurimoko handed to her superior the two scrolls, and a written copy of her report. She awaited any further questions.

The Ide unrolled the scrolls, and making sure everything was in order, nodded his approval and then looked up at Kurimoko, “It seems, with the exception of your yoriki, everything went perfectly” he purred

“Yes, it appears so, my lord.” She replied

“And yet, we both know, nothing ever goes so perfectly. Be wary and do not lower your guard, Kurimoko, this may not yet be over” replied Tamaru.

“Hai, my lord” she replied, and turned to leave.

After a long hot bath, and a quick meal, Kurimoko began preparations for the evening’s duties. She first chose a pretty kimono, with flowers and birds, in a provocative cut. Kurimoko brushed out her long hair, styling and braiding it in the favored fashion of the time. Then she removed a box of make-up, and began to apply. When that was done, she put on some undergarments, designed to enhance and embellish the curves of women. Then the kimono, and finally, Kurimoko wrapped and obi around her waist. Into the sash, she slipped and hid a jitte. Kurimoko slid her badge of office inside the kimono, into a secret pocket designed for that very purpose. Finally, she retrieved a small silk bag, and a long wooden box. Kurimoko looked at herself in the mirror, and could barely believe her eyes. She looked nothing like herself. She chuckled inwardly, disguise had long been one of her talents, but it was unusual for her to indulge in. Tamaru’s warning was reason enough for her, and so the transformation.

Kurimoko took the box and the bag, and left the barracks, slipping out the back door, and into the street. She began a long circuitous walk towards her destination. She strolled through markets, stopping and looking at stalls, and doubled back over her own tracks, checking for anyone following her. When she was certain she was not being followed, she headed towards her destination in the Wave District.

Kurimoko arrived as a small saki house that was a favorite of the man she was looking for. She entered, and glanced around. Tono was not here, but she did see a couple of other men she recognized. She walked over to their table, and asked if she could join them. They gazed up, in wonder and amazement, at the geisha asking to join them. The hastily agreed, and made room for her at the table. As she sat, the two men introduced themselves.

“I am Ruri, and this is Baku,” the first man said, “can I ask what you are doing here?”

“I am looking for someone,” she purred, “a great warrior…”

“You have found two!” interrupted Baku

“named Tono, we have, … personal business to attend to. “Kurimoko continued. As she spoke, a man entered the saki house. Kurimoko’s eyes quickly shot over her companions and looked the man over. Then she lowered her gaze and attention back to her compainions.

“Tono, we know Tono, and he is due to meet us here later.” Ruri blurted out. “But anything that old man can do, I can do better” he added with a slight blush.

“Yes,” Baku said, placing his hand upon hers “I would be of much better use in any ‘personal’ business.”

“Except using your eyes and brains!” roared a voice from over the table. Ruri and Baku were so enraptured by their companion they had not even realized Tono had arrived.

“Are there any thoughts in your head that you have not given up yet, Ruri? And you Baku, touching a Unicorn Magistrate, you could be put in the dungeon for a year for that offense!” Tono motioned to Baku’s hand, resting on top of Kurimoko’s.

With Tono’s outburst, both Ruri and Baku looked more closely at their companion, and finally the recognized their sometimes employer, Shinjo Kurimoko.

“Our deepest apologies” they said, jumping up and bowing low, but Kurimoko stopped their words with a raised hand and a slight laugh.

“None needed, my friends. I wanted to try out this disguise, and it seemed to work well. But tell me Tono, how did you know it was me?

“No geisha in the Empire would look over a man in the manner of a magistrate, Kurimoko-sama. When you looked at me as I entered, your eyes gave you away. Otherwise, I would have also been fooled by the disguise.”

Ruri and Baku gathered their things, and left the saki house, as Tono took a seat at the table opposite Kurimoko. “I had heard that you returned, but I have not yet seen my son. Did he return with you?”

“I am very sorry, Tono-san,” Kurimoko said, placing the wooden box on the table, opening it to display an old, but well cared for daisho set. “He was killed in Pokau. I had him cremated there, and his ashes will be delivered to your home.”

Tears formed in the corners of the old ronin’s eyes, but he kept them there, and turned to the Unicorn Magistrate, “Did he serve well?” Tono asked.

“Yes Tono, your son was a model samurai, and served with honor.” Kurimoko told the grieving father.

“There is no better death for a samurai than that.” Tono said, more to sooth his own grief than out of any true faith. “May I ask, how it happened?”

Kurimoko took a breath and began, “We were setting a trap for a man who was to take possession of a stolen Shinjo horse. A stable boy that had stolen the horse was to deliver it to a man in Pokau. We sprang out after the man took possession of the horse, in order to arrest him. The stable boy was already dead, having been stabbed after delivering the horse. There were three of us, your Son, me and a Soshi Magistrate who was assisting us in Pokau. The man, however, did not come alone. Five bodyguards leapt out to meet us, and we were sorely pressed. Your son killed two but was cut down, saving me from a third. We captured the man, and were able to bring him back here to Turo-Kojiri for punishment. Your son died a hero. You should be proud of him, when his honor was put to the test, he did not flinch or fail. I wanted to return his daisho to you personally, so that you would know that.”

Tono nodded in thanks. Kurimoko poured Tono and drink, and together they toasted his son.

“I must return to the barracks,” Kurimoko announced and rose to go. Tono nodded in acknowledgement, and refilled his cup. He looked at the swords in the box, and remembered teaching his son to wield them. He brought the cup to his lips, and drained the fiery liquid, pausing to savor the heat and tingle. It was then that he heard a shout, and the ringing of steel on steel. A quick look told him that Kurimoko had already left, and he knew that she was in trouble. He grabbed the swords in the box, and charged out of the tavern.

Kurimoko had left, her eyes were downcast, and she was saddened from telling Tono of his son. She had been walking toward the barracks, but her path was barred by three samurai. There was something familiar about these men, but she did not recognize it, and tried to walk around them. They moved so that they continued to bar her way. She then realized that she was still in her geisha disguise, and withdrew her badge, thinking that would scare them off. When they saw the badge, however, one laughed and drew his katana. “We have been looking for you, magistrate” he hissed, and swung an attack at the girl. But his hesitation had allowed Kurimoko to draw her jitte. Steel rang as the jitte blocked the strike, and Kurimoko stepped back. She was outnumbered, and had only a single jitte to defend her self. Kurimoko was a master archer, and her skills with a katana were good, she had neither with her here in the Wave District. Kurimoko focused on protecting herself, hoping that the local guard would arrive in time to save her life.

Another man drew his katana, and then both men attacked her. She blocked one blade, and dodged another, but was loosing ground quickly, and she realized that she would not last much longer. From her right, she heard a shout, and a blur of brown and steel leapt through the air. Tono had arrived, and drew engaged two of the men. As he passed by, he tossed a wakizashi to Kurimoko. She caught it with her left hand, and dropping the jitte, drew the short blade with her right hand. The tides quickly turned against the attackers. Tono was a tenacious opponent who had spent long years in the hard life of a ronin. His survival had often depended on his skills with a blade, and he had survived for a long time. He easily defeated two of the men, while Kurimoko dispatched the third. I moments three men lay dead in the street. Kurimoko stooped to clean her blade on the kimono of one of the dead, and recognized the pattern in the fabric. It was the same pattern that the thugs in Pokau had worn. A cold shiver ran up her spine as she sheathed the blade.

“Tono, these men are from Pokau, they were the same kimono that the men who killed your son wore.”

“Then they have been sent here by those responsible for my son’s death.” He replied, taking the wakizashi back from Kurimoko.

“I have to get to the prison, and question that ronin. There is more going on here than meets the eye” Kurimoko declared.

“Then I will accompany you, until those responsible for my son’s death are dead, or brought to justice.” Vowed Tono.

Kurimoko nodded, and they headed off for the prison.

Kurimoko washed off the make-up, and then got dressed in a brilliant purple silk kimono, and dark purple silk hakama. Over this, she donned a haori, emblazoned with the Unicorn Clan symbol on the right side, and the kanji for Magistrate upon the left. She pulled on the boots favored by the Shinjo family, and concealed a tanto in the top of them. Kurimoko pulled her long black hair back into a single ponytail, wrapping it in a gold ribbon. She pulled her badge of office around her neck, and wrapped a golden obi around her waist. She then took several strings of coins, and slid them inside her obi pouch. Finally, Kurimoko walked to the sword rack, and took down a beautiful purple katana she had been given as reward by Ide Tamaru himself. She slipped that katana into the obi, along with the wakizashi that she always carried. Finally, she looked herself over in the mirror. She was ready to face this latest challenge.

Kurimoko and Tono had returned to the barracks, and quickly learned that the ronin Kurimoko had returned for justice was to be hanged in the morning. Furthermore, both Ide Tamaru and the warden were out, and without authorization from either of the two, Kurimoko wasn’t authorized even to see the prisoner, much less interrogate him. Kurimoko was sure that she could convince Tamaru-sama of the necessity of her request, but she would need time to make herself presentable. So Kurimoko sent Tono to get an inquisitor, and she returned to her rooms to get ready.

Since the whereabouts of the Senior Magistrate was a matter of importance, the duty officer was always aware of where Ide Tamaru was. When Kurimoko had discovered his location, she winced. This would be much harder than she thought. The House of Silk was one of the top geisha houses in the city, and was clear across the city. Kurimoko was glad she had gotten dressed in her finest clothes it would make getting into the House of Silk much easier. Kurimoko went to the stables to get her horse. She toyed with the idea of putting the saddle on him, but decided it would be much easier and faster to simply ride him bareback. She put the bridle on, and jumped up on the horse with easy skill. A quick tug, and slight squeeze with her heels, and the horse was off, trotting through the town to the House of Silk.

And now, we are back to our normal program. If anyone is wondering what's happening in my stories, I have a small visual explanation here.

Fighting Spirit

Her world grew as the seconds ground on with a painfully slow pace. She felt her buzzing mind and beating heart, then her tense muscles and sweat-covered skin. Two layers of soft silk clothing pressed against her body from one side and her body armor from the other. A heavy, rigid shell of ceramic, steel, and aruminium offered her a powerful protection, but their bulk and weight also crushed down on her body implacably. Her helmet was too tight, and her mempo was too much of a close fit, and she was struggling to breathe properly. She was holding a sturdy naginata in her armored gauntlet, the long, graceful blade pointing out into the distant grayish blur in front of her. Armored forms pressed against her from both sides and behind, naginatas like her own leveled into a deadly wall of steel. She could feel her anxiety causing a turbulence among the cold discipline of the other warriors around, her weapon hanging a breath lower than the others'. The formation of two-hundred samurai was standing in a plaza, surrounded by a small town and its simple houses. Empty doors and windows stared at her, the grey and red roof-titles reflected a pale sunlight from the rising dawn. The wide road in front of her was littered by hastily-constructed barricades and ended with a massive gate. The white of the city walls spread around the whole scene, bordering her world with their embrace.

There were sounds of panting around her, panicked screams reached her from the distance, but all these voices were snuffled out by the deafening roars and howls coming from the other side of the wall, from beyond her world and her view.

The gate shook, like a massive beast tried to force it open. The reinforced wood cracked and bent under the relentless onslaught, the steel bands on it snapped out of their place, and finally the whole thing burst open like a dam.

Barbaric, bestial humanoids appeared in the gap, their fanged mouths unleashing a deep crescendo of battle cries, their muscular arms raising brutish weapons of all shapes and forms into the air. They came by hundreds, even thousands, pouring through the destroyed gate in a savage stream, their horde of fur, muscle, and violence rushing towards her down the road.

Her world wrapped and relented as the terror grasped her mind, and her naginata started to swing out as weakness ran through her body. Warmth spread between her legs as she wet herself, and her stomach strained. A blackness spread inside of her, snuffing out her perception. The monsters disappeared from her sight, then the road, the town, the plaza, and the samurai around her. She could no longer feel her weapon, her armor, her clothes, her body. Again, she was reduced to her pounding heart and stirred mind, then even those seemed to slip away from her.

Sunlight broke, its golden beams flashed and tore into the darkness. A thousand arms reached for her and pulled her out from the nothingness that consumed her world. Strength surged through her, not only in body but in soul too. Her senses returned and her naginata stopped swinging. Her whole body stiffened like an invisible force suddenly pinned her to one place, and all weakness was purged from her. She felt her ancestors standing with her, lending their power to their progeny in her darkest hour.

Above the battlefield, Lady Sun opened her arms, and fire rained from the skies upon the horde charging at her. Flaming bolts found their marks by the hundreds, and what was once bestial fury now turned into shrieks of agony as the beastmen burned. The air was filled with a sickening smell as fur and flesh were reduced to embers, but despite the first wave meeting a fiery demise, the beasts continued their assault with redoubled fervor.

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!" The thundering shout of her gunso made her tighten her grip on the naginata.

There was maybe a hundred ken between her and the oncoming wave of beastmen. Her blade remained steadily in place.

They came to fifty ken. The formation behind her shuffled, becoming thinner but wider to better receive the charging mass.

Twenty ken. The beastman running towards her held a primitive mace, little more than a sturdy stick studded with crude iron spikes. It roared in frenzy, its bloodshot eyes were fixated on her, its muscular legs started to take up pace, propelling the large body into greater momentum.

Five ken. She aimed the naginata at the beast's unarmored chest, and braced herself.

The wave rushed at them, but just as the raging ocean meets the cliffs, it broke on the formation of samurai, splashing blood and screams into the air.

Her opponent too thought that its mere momentum would be enough to simply sweep her aside, but she held her ground and didn't give a single step. The beast impaled itself onto her naginata, its charge pushing its body through the entire length of the blade, maybe even running down to the shaft if not stopped by the hilt. Her arms strained as she took the full force of the impact, and a sharp pain arced through her joints as she forced her body to remain in one place.

The beast's eyes opened wide open, and a low whimper left its mouth, then its body writhed and stiffened, finally becoming limp and unmoving. Its mace fell to the ground and its head flopped between its shoulders.

Time slowed down as she felt the last beats of the beast's heart running through her naginata. She gasped for air as the dead body pulled down her weapon with its sheer weight and the shock of her first kill in her entire life spiked into her thoughts.

Another beast attacked, but a naginata from behind her struck out and impaled the charging monster just as it swung its axe at her head.

Someone grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the second row. A samurai closed the gap quickly, leaving her stranded in the middle of the formation.

The dead body was still at the end of her naginata, so she kicked it off. She was blessed with a moment of relative calmness as armored bodies blocked her from the fighting, but she found it excruciatingly hard to regain her composure. Her mempo was suffocating her, and her hands were too shaky to remove it. Her clothes were drenched in her sweat, and when she tried to loosen her armor she realized that she was soaked in blood too. Her mind lapsed, the inky blackness returned for a moment, and when she could see her world again she was at the end of the formation.

She looked down, and the body she had just kicked off was not her first kill but another, a more brutish beastman still holding a scimitar.

How...?

She stumbled back and dropped her weapon. Both her hands rushed to get off her helmet, to free her from this nightmare. She successfully undid one binding, but it only made the whole thing slip forward into her face. She struggled, but the rest of the bindings held stubbornly. She grabbed the helmet and tried to rip it off, but to no avail.

The next moment found her tumbling to the ground as she was fighting her own armor. The shell pressed tighter with each move though, slowly squeezing the air out of her and making the darkness return with renewed vigor. She could hear herself screaming, but the sounds of battle not far away from her drowned her cries for help.

A rough hand grabbed her, and for a second, she thought that someone came to save her. But what her eyes found was no samurai, but one of the beastmen lying on the ground. Its body was missing from the waist below, but the beast still dragged itself ever onwards, pulling its innards on a trail of gore and viscera. The horror lunged itself onto her, uttering an anguished roar as it first punched her in the face then clenched her throat and started strangling her.

She fought back with all the meager strength she could muster, but being at the maws of death gave the beast a tremendous power. Stars exploded in her eyes and a deadly numbness overtook her, the already scarce air disappeared from her lungs and made her muscles burn and ache. She broke the beast's nose with a punch, then her fingers found its eyes and she poked them out with a single forceful thrust. The beast howled in pain and loosened its grip just enough to let her take a much-needed gasp of air. With that, she finally mobilized the last drop of her willpower, reached down to her belt, grabbed the hilt of her wakizashi, and slashed up with all the might she had.

The beast's scream was cut into a gulp as the nimble blade crossed its neck and severed its head. A geyser of blood burst forth from the stump, pouring down straight onto her face. The dead body then fell forward onto her, turning the shower of blood into a true flood. It seeped into her helmet, painting her vision red and eventually finding the way through her mempo and into her mouth.

Her stomach answered in kind and it sprained, making her vomit into her mempo, the gruesome mixture of body fluids filled up the mask instantly and started drowning her.

She trembled and waggled, desperately trying to remove the body or the mempo, but this time, there was no escape. The blackness was eating away her life force, and there was no way out, no return from the nothingness, only the cold grip of death.

The cold hand on her face was real, too real. Isawa Yuko's eyes sprung open as she was pulled out from her nightmare, her hands involuntarily grasping for her katana at her belt.

It took her a few seconds to realize that she was in her home, in her room, in her bed. She could feel the gentle night air coming through her window, the pale light of Lord Moon, and the quiet of Gisei Toshi outside. Her vision cleared, and the shadow sitting at the edge of the bed became a middle-aged woman in a fine silk robe.

"M-mother?" whispered Yuko weakly. "Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me." The woman gently ran her cold hands through Yuko's cheek. "You were screaming. Is everything alright?"

The question made Yuko reel. She heard it a lot nowadays.

"Just a bad dream." She sat up and shook her head, trying to get rid of the nausea building up in her. "I'm alright."

Her mother was on a different opinion, Yuko could tell that much from her worrying expression.

"Please, Yuko..." The woman moved closer to her, lovingly wrapping her arms around Yuko's shoulders. "Me and you father are well aware of what happened with you. That battle should have been terrible, especially for a girl like you. Your taisa, Kaiu Tozen, told us everything." She caressed her daughter's face again, smearing away some sweat in the process. "Please, don't torture yourself by going back. Your father made the arrangements, you can stay here, in Gisei Toshi, and join the town guard. You will never, ever, have to experience that horror again."

A girl like you. The words echoed in Yuko's head like a malignant curse cast on her. This was again something she had heard a lot as of lately.

Like she was inferior. Like she was simply not cut for fighting. Like she failed to prove her worth as a real bushi.

Her nightmares weren't even that bad, all things considered. She felt considerably worse from conversations like this.

"I'm alright." That was all Yuko said in the end. She flopped back to her bed, and turned her back to her mother. There was no more to say.

She could feel her mother staring at her for a long moment, then she stood up and left with a deep sigh, leaving Yuko alone in her room with her nightmares.

Author's Note: If you don't remember, Isawa Yuko is the new recruit from my second story "Young Blood". I suggest reading that first if you haven't done it yet !