The First Crane Thunder
Many years after the house of the Crane had been established, the family of Lady Doji and Lord Kakita lived in a beautiful castle overlooking the sea. One day, Lady Doji gave birth to their first children – twins, much as the first Kakita and his sister had been. Their arrival was heraldd through the lands and the people rejoiced at the happiness of their benevolent rulers. Over the years, Lady Doji presented to her husband three more beautiful sons. These five children, on the day of their gempukku, chose the names of Yasurugi, Konishiko, Nio, Shimizu, and Hayaku.
Each of the children of Lady Doji and Lord Kakita were given the freedom to choose their surname – either Doji, after their mother, or Kakita, from their father’s line. Thus the first two households of the Crane were born, and their bonds have remained as close as family. On their gempukku day, the twins chose the names Doji Yasurugi and Doji Konishiko.
Yasurugi took after his bold father, with a keen sparkle in his eye and a ready sense of humor. His skill at iaijutsu was unmatched, and there wer those who whispered that even Kakita himself could not defeat his eldest son. Unlike his father, however, Yasurugi delighted in creating things, and refused to wield a sword he had not seen forged. “The blade,” he would say, “holds part of the soul of its creator. I would not go into battle with a cowardly man, nor would I strike with a coward’s sword.” In time, Doji Yasurugi took his own wife from the nobles of the court, and was named heir to the Doji line.
The first war with the Shadowlands found the Crane defending the Imperial palace and the Hantei line. The Kakita and Doji houses rose to the challenge, and the efforts of the Yasuki made certain that critical supplies were abundant.
Yasurugi, son of Kakita, followed in his father’s footsteps and became a great favorite of the Emperor. Yasurugi’s honor was unquestioned, and the swiftness of his blade was legendary. Although the war with Fu Leng’s abominations went badly, it is certain that the bravery and skill of the Kakita family kept Hantei alive throughout the violent conflict.
During the months of war, Yasarugi’s son was born, and a great celebration was given by his parents and grandparents. The festival was lavish, fillded with entertainers and artisans in an attempt to uplift the people’s spirits. At the feast, Yasurugi knelt beside his son’s cradle and laid a shining sword had been made by Yasurugi’s own hands. “One day,” he said proudly to the assemblage, “my son will wield this blade in battle. After him will come his sons. And always, a par tof my soul will be beside them, to guard them from harm, and to defend the life of the Emperor, the people of Rokugan, and the honor of the Crane.” His words were met with approving nods and whispers from the court.
“Oh?” a small, curious voice came from the back of the room. “Would you defend that honor even to death?”
The court hushed, and all turned to the small man in the back of the room, his woven straw hat shielding his eyes, but a slight smile peeking from its depths. Beside him stood a tall, bold Lion samurai-ko and a darkly scowling man whom the assemblage recognized as the famous Mirumoto of the Dragon.
At that point, Lady Doji arose from her cusions on the platform at the far end of the room, and her voice whispered in the silence. “Shinse-sama,” She bowed to the small monk, and as she did, a whispered gasp arose from the assembled Crane court. Almost as one, the glittering Clan showed their respects to the little man in simple robes. After a momentary hesitation, Doji Yasurugi bowed as well.
“To fight the evil which has grown in the Shadowlands, I must find the finest mortal souls in Rokugan.” As he spoke, the monk approached the dais, pausing to stand before the son of Kakita. He placed a hand over Yasurugi’s heart, paused in meditation for a moment, and smiled. “You have the soul of Thunder.” Shinsei smiled up at the strong warrior. “Will you, Doji Yasurgui-san, join me in freeing the Empire of this evil which has plagued it?”
A shadow moved in the darkness behind the dais. Before Yasurugi could answer the monk’s challenge, could answer the monk’s challenge, a blade slid from the shadow and sheathed itself between the Crane’s shoulder-blades. Kakita’s sword leapt into his hand as the court erupted into screams, and the haunting laughter of an Oni echoed throughout the room. “Foolish mortal,” it howled, its voice filled with blood and hatred. “My Master knows of your little plan, and has sent me to destroy it before it is born. We shall see what you can do with only six of your Thunders!”
The Oni screamed in glee and its voice tore through the peace of the terrified court. Courtiers scrambled back, fleeing the apparition which stepped through the darkness. Visible. It towered above the small monk with a fiendish grin and a bloody tanto. But before the Oni could move again, Kakita’s swift katana sliced its brutish head from its shoulders. Even as the beast fell lifeless to the floor, its laughter remained and darkened into something blacker and more foul than before. The assembled courtiers, Shinsei, Doji and Kakita stared in shock at the body of Yasurugi, lying in a pool of dark blood by the cradle of his newborn son.
On the wooden floor of the Crane pavilion, Lady Doji knelt beside the body of her son as the courtiers were dismissed by a ruthless gesture of Kakita’s hand. She looked up at the monk and the two men beside him as the blood of her firstborn wept into the pale silk of her kimono. Kakita’s face was white, and Yasurugi’s young wife held her shrieking babe to her breast tightly. Shinsei looked down at the body of the man he had chosen to brign the spirit of the Crane into battle agains thte Shadowlands, and placed his hand over Yasurgui’s heart. “His soul is gone,” the monk said sadly, “And we are lost without it.”
Then came a tearful gasp, and a shuddering, “No.” From behind them, Doji Konishiko stepped forward and knelt beside her brother. Her eyes were dark and shattered, and tears fell from them like salt sea foam. Shinsei’s eyes widened at the sight of her, and he watched as she lifted her dead brother’s new-forged sword. Tears streamed down her face as she looked into her mother’s eyes eys. “His soul is ehre,” he whispered.
“And here.” Shinsei bent down and his hand cupped the girl’s chin. The monk stared into her eyes for a moment, as if recognizing some essence which was within her. “You are his twin,” he said softly, “the twin of Yasurugi?” The girl nodded, and Shinsei burst into laughter, shocking in the cold silence of the once bright pavilion. “Then we are not defeated yet! You share the soul of Thunder. All is not lost while you still live!” Shinsei clapped his hands and pulled the girl to her feet, her brother’s sword still dangling loosely in her untrained grasp.
“Send my daughter…into the Shadowlands?” Lady Doji whispered.
“Her!?!” Lady Matsu roared at the same moment, pointing her sheathed sword a the petite girl. “She’s no warrior. She will die as soon as we enter combat! The youngest child of my clan could kill her with ease – and you would have her fight a god?” The Lion daimyo’s scorn echoed through the pavilion, her mocking tone bitingly clear.
With a ringing as loud as a thunderclap, the Lion’s pointing katana was knocked from her grip as easily as one would rid a child of a toy. With her brother’s sword in her hands, Konishiko faced Lady Matsu grimly. “I hold the sword of my family and my brother’s soul. What I lack, he will give me. Our souls are one.” Her frame shook with wrath and her eyes matched the strange glow of the sword in her hands. In a strangely resonant voice, she whispered, “Yasurugi is still with me.”
“You wil die in the first moments of fighting, little girl,” the Lion Thunder snarled scornfully, her voice rumbling.
Doji Konishiko reached down and touched her delicate fingers to the dark pool of her brother’s blood. With deliberate slowness she drew the blood across her eyes, marking her eyes from temple to temple with a mask of crimson. “That may be my kharma. But I know this, Matsu-sama. I do not need to fight long.” Her voice echoed strangely form the steel blade in her hands. “I only need to hit him…once.” The sword shone with the purity of a soul dedicated to honor, and her eyes matched its burning flame behind their scarlet veil.
The laughter of the monk echoed through the room, bringing light where there had been darkness and hope where all had been lost.
Many years after the house of the Crane had been established, the family of Lady Doji and Lord Kakita lived in a beautiful castle overlooking the sea. One day, Lady Doji gave birth to their first children – twins, much as the first Kakita and his sister had been. Their arrival was heraldd through the lands and the people rejoiced at the happiness of their benevolent rulers. Over the years, Lady Doji presented to her husband three more beautiful sons. These five children, on the day of their gempukku, chose the names of Yasurugi, Konishiko, Nio, Shimizu, and Hayaku.
Each of the children of Lady Doji and Lord Kakita were given the freedom to choose their surname – either Doji, after their mother, or Kakita, from their father’s line. Thus the first two households of the Crane were born, and their bonds have remained as close as family. On their gempukku day, the twins chose the names Doji Yasurugi and Doji Konishiko.
Yasurugi took after his bold father, with a keen sparkle in his eye and a ready sense of humor. His skill at iaijutsu was unmatched, and there wer those who whispered that even Kakita himself could not defeat his eldest son. Unlike his father, however, Yasurugi delighted in creating things, and refused to wield a sword he had not seen forged. “The blade,” he would say, “holds part of the soul of its creator. I would not go into battle with a cowardly man, nor would I strike with a coward’s sword.” In time, Doji Yasurugi took his own wife from the nobles of the court, and was named heir to the Doji line.
The first war with the Shadowlands found the Crane defending the Imperial palace and the Hantei line. The Kakita and Doji houses rose to the challenge, and the efforts of the Yasuki made certain that critical supplies were abundant.
Yasurugi, son of Kakita, followed in his father’s footsteps and became a great favorite of the Emperor. Yasurugi’s honor was unquestioned, and the swiftness of his blade was legendary. Although the war with Fu Leng’s abominations went badly, it is certain that the bravery and skill of the Kakita family kept Hantei alive throughout the violent conflict.
During the months of war, Yasarugi’s son was born, and a great celebration was given by his parents and grandparents. The festival was lavish, fillded with entertainers and artisans in an attempt to uplift the people’s spirits. At the feast, Yasurugi knelt beside his son’s cradle and laid a shining sword had been made by Yasurugi’s own hands. “One day,” he said proudly to the assemblage, “my son will wield this blade in battle. After him will come his sons. And always, a par tof my soul will be beside them, to guard them from harm, and to defend the life of the Emperor, the people of Rokugan, and the honor of the Crane.” His words were met with approving nods and whispers from the court.
“Oh?” a small, curious voice came from the back of the room. “Would you defend that honor even to death?”
The court hushed, and all turned to the small man in the back of the room, his woven straw hat shielding his eyes, but a slight smile peeking from its depths. Beside him stood a tall, bold Lion samurai-ko and a darkly scowling man whom the assemblage recognized as the famous Mirumoto of the Dragon.
At that point, Lady Doji arose from her cusions on the platform at the far end of the room, and her voice whispered in the silence. “Shinse-sama,” She bowed to the small monk, and as she did, a whispered gasp arose from the assembled Crane court. Almost as one, the glittering Clan showed their respects to the little man in simple robes. After a momentary hesitation, Doji Yasurugi bowed as well.
“To fight the evil which has grown in the Shadowlands, I must find the finest mortal souls in Rokugan.” As he spoke, the monk approached the dais, pausing to stand before the son of Kakita. He placed a hand over Yasurugi’s heart, paused in meditation for a moment, and smiled. “You have the soul of Thunder.” Shinsei smiled up at the strong warrior. “Will you, Doji Yasurgui-san, join me in freeing the Empire of this evil which has plagued it?”
A shadow moved in the darkness behind the dais. Before Yasurugi could answer the monk’s challenge, could answer the monk’s challenge, a blade slid from the shadow and sheathed itself between the Crane’s shoulder-blades. Kakita’s sword leapt into his hand as the court erupted into screams, and the haunting laughter of an Oni echoed throughout the room. “Foolish mortal,” it howled, its voice filled with blood and hatred. “My Master knows of your little plan, and has sent me to destroy it before it is born. We shall see what you can do with only six of your Thunders!”
The Oni screamed in glee and its voice tore through the peace of the terrified court. Courtiers scrambled back, fleeing the apparition which stepped through the darkness. Visible. It towered above the small monk with a fiendish grin and a bloody tanto. But before the Oni could move again, Kakita’s swift katana sliced its brutish head from its shoulders. Even as the beast fell lifeless to the floor, its laughter remained and darkened into something blacker and more foul than before. The assembled courtiers, Shinsei, Doji and Kakita stared in shock at the body of Yasurugi, lying in a pool of dark blood by the cradle of his newborn son.
On the wooden floor of the Crane pavilion, Lady Doji knelt beside the body of her son as the courtiers were dismissed by a ruthless gesture of Kakita’s hand. She looked up at the monk and the two men beside him as the blood of her firstborn wept into the pale silk of her kimono. Kakita’s face was white, and Yasurugi’s young wife held her shrieking babe to her breast tightly. Shinsei looked down at the body of the man he had chosen to brign the spirit of the Crane into battle agains thte Shadowlands, and placed his hand over Yasurgui’s heart. “His soul is gone,” the monk said sadly, “And we are lost without it.”
Then came a tearful gasp, and a shuddering, “No.” From behind them, Doji Konishiko stepped forward and knelt beside her brother. Her eyes were dark and shattered, and tears fell from them like salt sea foam. Shinsei’s eyes widened at the sight of her, and he watched as she lifted her dead brother’s new-forged sword. Tears streamed down her face as she looked into her mother’s eyes eys. “His soul is ehre,” he whispered.
“And here.” Shinsei bent down and his hand cupped the girl’s chin. The monk stared into her eyes for a moment, as if recognizing some essence which was within her. “You are his twin,” he said softly, “the twin of Yasurugi?” The girl nodded, and Shinsei burst into laughter, shocking in the cold silence of the once bright pavilion. “Then we are not defeated yet! You share the soul of Thunder. All is not lost while you still live!” Shinsei clapped his hands and pulled the girl to her feet, her brother’s sword still dangling loosely in her untrained grasp.
“Send my daughter…into the Shadowlands?” Lady Doji whispered.
“Her!?!” Lady Matsu roared at the same moment, pointing her sheathed sword a the petite girl. “She’s no warrior. She will die as soon as we enter combat! The youngest child of my clan could kill her with ease – and you would have her fight a god?” The Lion daimyo’s scorn echoed through the pavilion, her mocking tone bitingly clear.
With a ringing as loud as a thunderclap, the Lion’s pointing katana was knocked from her grip as easily as one would rid a child of a toy. With her brother’s sword in her hands, Konishiko faced Lady Matsu grimly. “I hold the sword of my family and my brother’s soul. What I lack, he will give me. Our souls are one.” Her frame shook with wrath and her eyes matched the strange glow of the sword in her hands. In a strangely resonant voice, she whispered, “Yasurugi is still with me.”
“You wil die in the first moments of fighting, little girl,” the Lion Thunder snarled scornfully, her voice rumbling.
Doji Konishiko reached down and touched her delicate fingers to the dark pool of her brother’s blood. With deliberate slowness she drew the blood across her eyes, marking her eyes from temple to temple with a mask of crimson. “That may be my kharma. But I know this, Matsu-sama. I do not need to fight long.” Her voice echoed strangely form the steel blade in her hands. “I only need to hit him…once.” The sword shone with the purity of a soul dedicated to honor, and her eyes matched its burning flame behind their scarlet veil.
The laughter of the monk echoed through the room, bringing light where there had been darkness and hope where all had been lost.
