The wind blowing off the mountains sent a chill across the village but the yobanjin did not notice. The cold was nothing next to the unease felt as they watched the samurai in their midst. The dozen warriors all wore black and dark grey in their outfits, even though they were not uniform in color or style. They ignored the yobanjin as if they were beneath their notice. They talked amongst themselves about their travels to this outpost north of Rokugan and the disdain in their voices was clear.
Hisao’s lips moved as he murmured his prayers to the Fortunes. The handsome young man knelt in front of a shrine that stood in midst of several large statues of the Lords of Death. He must have looked out of place in the drab brown colors that noted his status as ronin among the bright purples that adorned the room, but it did not matter to him. He knelt for what seemed like hours as he set aside the burdens and sins of the day.
The Imperial Palace in Toshi Ranbo
The chambers in which the Imperial Court was being held had been designed by the finest architects in the Empire. Since the new Imperial Palace had been constructed only a few short years ago, it also incorporated the most modern advances, including many things that families such as the Miya and Kaiu understood about acoustics.
The Unicorn provinces, five miles from Shiro Moto
Akodo Shigetoshi spurred his loyal steed on, driving it to what he knew was its best possible speed. He had ridden the same horse in no less than three conflicts now, and they each knew the other’s capabilities quite well. Still, Shigetoshi wasn’t certain it would be enough.
