The Jade Hand

[ewokxz]

The Quality of a Sword
By Remwel Geba-Une (7-21-07)


The hum of the forge continued unabated throughout the spectral night of the shadowlands.
Isolated in the hillocks twelve Li south of the City of the Lost, the sound of hammers and the loud flame of the huge bellows drowned the screams emanating from the compound to the left of the large structure.
Two figures entered the forge from the heavy oak doors.
The porcelain mask – in deep contrast from his velvet black robes, reflected the light of the fire from the nearby hearth as Daigotsu stepped behind a robed figure. Sensing his presence, Yatoma turned and bowed reverently to the Dark Lord.

“Ahh…Daigotsu-sama, you honor us with your presence.”

The noise inside the vast interior of the building subsided as the mix of humans, ogre and goblins stopped manning the works, visibly anticipating Daigotsus’ next command,
With a slight wave of his hand, the assemblage bowed as one and turned to continue their interrupted work.

“I have heard of your accomplishments here in the forge Yatoma. I am impressed by the quality of steel your motley crew has produced.”

“Most appreciated master. Your words fill me much with pride.”

Yatoma turned to pick up a katana from the clutter on the stone table. Approaching Daigotsu, he held it up for the Dark Lord, wooden hilt forward.

“Most unusual… but from the weight and luster, I don’t see anything…’remarkable’ with this one.” Daigotsu asserted while swaying the sword casually on a wide arching sweep.

“It is for now Daigotsu-sama. The blade is as strong as any of the Crab steel that the samurai of the empire has.”
“You mean to say that this forge employ the skills of the Kaiu masters.”
“We do Daigotsu-sama.” A hint of smile pressed against the monks’ youthful face.
“Are they our willing subjects?”
“Ahh…no…not really. The Crab as you know so well Daigotsu-sama, are the most difficult to encourage in acceding to our cause. Their oath to eliminate the ahh…our kind…is as strong as their renewed duty to the empire and the Wall they serve. But fortunately for us…we have ahh…the means to use them, albeit unwillingly.”

“Hahen!” the monk bellowed.

A large man approached them from one of the anvil works. His features clearly indicate that he once belonged to the hated Crab. The rippling muscle on his biceps denotes great strength and skill with the large blacksmith hammers.

“Omoni.”

“Hai Daigotsu-sama…this is his handiwork.”

The black orb for eyes and the perfect skin of his face is the only clear manifestation of the Taint. He was once honorable Daigotsu assumed. But Omonis work leaves no room for doubt that no will is strong even for a Crab once he is ‘processed’ in the ‘flesh works’ of the goblin artisan.

The former Crab bowed low before Daigotsu after the monk waved him away.
Handing the katana back to Yatoma, the daimyo of the lost swept his gaze around the building.
“Impressive, but I have yet to see anything that can be worth my effort in coming here.”
“Very well my Lord… if you can just follow me.”
The monk, Daigotsu and his Ogre companion proceeded to the compound annex.
The screams and chittering laughter became more prominent once outside of the blacksmith forge. The unholy screams came from the direction of the building they are approaching.

*

Four goblins spilled out from the door carrying two halves of what appeared to be human. When the party reached the goblins, the creatures dropped their burden with an uncaring flop before kneeling in the dirt and bowing deep in front of Daigotsu.
The shivering creatures hurriedly stood to pick up the body pieces after the entourage has passed, eager to be away from the unnerving presence of the Dark Lord.

Inside, five huge stone slabs – waist high, two strides in length and half as wide are arranged on a line in the center of the building interior. Ogres stood unmoving on the four corners of the stone walls while a good number of those annoying goblins scurry in between the spaces of the ‘tables’. A samurai of the Lost stood in front of each of the slabs where a twitching figure lay chained and trashing atop its smooth surface. It is in one of these tables that the party halted.

Like in the forge, everything slowed to a stop when the denizens of the building recognized who the visitors were. And just the same, everything resumed with a wave of Daigotsus’ hand albeit more subdued now. Even the screams of the chained creatures, feeling the sudden change in the atmosphere died down a little.

The samurai of the Lost bowed low while scurrying back to let Yatoma and Daigotsu step closer to the table. The writhing mass turned out to be a man stripped of all his clothing’s. A tattered armor lying on the side of the table is tinged in blue and bears the Mon of the Crane.

“How exemplary, I would have expected a Crab or a Scorpion, but a Doji…It just goes to show that no one in the empire, however far from the Shadowlands is safe from our expanding influence.” Daigotsu said half turning to Yatoma.

“Hai my liege, it will only be a matter of time before the rest of the empire bows to its rightful ruler.” The monk gleefully replied.

“Enough sniveling, I’ve wasted much time with this excursion. Tell me what you need to show.”

“Hai Daigotsu-sama.”

Settling himself with his back to the table, Yatoma brandished the katana high for all to see.

“This sword was forged and created with the best Crab steel. The ‘Twelve Folds’ required for this katana was done perfectly and precise with the Kaius renowned blacksmithing skills, making it as strong and sharp as any in the empire.”

He then turned to the wide eyed samurai, lying chained on the table, eyes burning with open contempt and defiance.

“What sets these swords apart from the rest is this…”

Sword still held high, the monk uttered a short prayer to his Dark Kami. The swirl of malevolent energy began to coalesce on the blade of the upraised katana.

Without any visible effort, the monk casually dropped the sword on the body.

The katana sliced cleanly through the samurai’s mid-section. The ring of steel hitting stone reverberated on the walls, echoing distinctly from the other sounds inside the building.

Even through the samurai’s defiant will, a scream escaped the man as tendrils of black energy seem to siphon his very soul from him. A bright umbra surrounded the samurai that slowly turned sickly green before finally disappearing.

Daigotsu nodded his approval in recognition of the ceremony that has just transpired.

“An ancient ritual…meant to test the sharpness of the samurai sword…”
“…and twisted to our needs.” Yatoma finished for his master.

He pulled the katana from the now dead body. A crimson line is the only visible proof of the perfect cut that the sword made on the body.

Yatoma produced a parchment from his sleeves. Mowing the paper across the blade, a diagonal strip of paper fell to the ground, indicating a sharp edge even though the sword has hit the stone during the ritual.

Daigotsu smiled beneath his mask, looking around the room to find that other rituals of the same kind were being performed on the other tables.
Yatoma turned to face him.

“They are not as powerful as the ‘Blood Swords’, nor as powerful as the other nemuranai that we know, but they serve well on other aspects. This sword in particular draws on the honor and defiant will of this samurai…” indicating the body at the table,”…and twisting it to a mockery of what they represent. Once wielded by a samurai of the Lost, it fuels their own desire and will cut through even the hardest armor, gaining strength as it takes another life.”

“The blade of this sword will never dull and will never tarnish. If one not of the Lost will wield this blade, unless he recognizes its corrupting ‘song’, he will succumb to its temptation and soon…will find himself in our service…or better…dead.” Yatoma finished, eyes glowing with unmistakable mischief that even made the surrounding goblins to skitter farther back.

“How many has been made.”

“Too many for me to count now Daigotsu-sama, although most are not as good as this one I hold now.
The swords quality depends much on the samurai or ‘creature’ it has been tested, so a man with a greater name will produce a ‘greater’ sword.”

“Excellent Yatoma, you have done well. Remind me to visit you again when another one of this…’greater’ sword is produced.”

“It is my greatest honor to serve you to the best of my abilities my liege. With all means, I will bring you news…soon I believe.” Yatoma bowed deep to the retreating form of Daigotsu.

Daigotsu turned and left the assemblage with the Ogre Kayomasa who has been silent all along. The shadows swallowed their forms after passing through the low arching door, leaving the monk who immediately turned and ordered the goblins to remove the body from the stone slab just as another soul rending scream echoed through the night sky.

From afar, the hammers and sound of the huge bellows continued its cadence as a nocturnal tinge in the sky hints the coming of another Shadowlands dawn.


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Daigotsu - Daimyo of the Lost, self-proclaimed Lord of the Shadowlands. Fu-lengs Chosen. A Hantei by line of birth. Also, Daimyo of the newly formed Spider clan.
Omoni - a very intelligent Goblin-man who is also known as the “Sculptor of flesh”
Kayomasa – an intelligent Ogre once a member of Kyobuns band of ogres outlaws. He has come to Daigotsu to offer his service to the Dark Lord.
Yatoma – (my fictional character for the story)A monk who serves Daigotsu. One of the ‘Lost’. His former clan alignment is yet to be revealed. He manages the Blacksmith forge of the City of the Lost.

Note to the story:
The events described here occurred before the exodus to the Shinomen forest of the forces of Daigotsu and just before the Dark lords’ declaration on the formation of the Spider Clan.
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Crab Clan Gaijin Scholar*Hiruma Chikara duelist*Loyal*Battousai*Very Mad*Very Hungry