Imperial Herald #15, Legend of the Five Rings History
Crimson and Jade
Beset by the armies of the False Hoturi, the Crane armies under Daidoji Uji had given much ground but had in turn learned much of their foe. The clan had emptied its coffers to recruit, arm, and equip a mercenary force led by the man named Yoritomo - the Son of Storms, daimyo of the Mantis Clan, and mercenary bushi from the islands off Rokugan's coast.
Historically a pawn of the Great Clans, the Mantis Clan enticed the Minor clans of the Empire to enter into an alliance led by it, the most powerful of the Minor Clans and flush with Crane gold. The alliance drew from Minor Clans across the Empire, united by a common cause: to stop the bloodshed, to force the Great Clans to honor their ancient obligations and oaths, and to ensure that the Empire was saved from those who would destroy it.
Where Yoritomo once boasted that he could field a thousand samurai, the legions that now bore the mon of the Mantis stretched farther than the eye could see.
The False Hoturi, leading his horde through the pass into the Fields of the Asahina Temple, believed that this would be the final conflict; the Crane Clan would die here, in a region of the Empire that had not seen conflict in the thousand years since the Founding. As the horde crossed the final rise, the False Hoturi was stunned to see not the demoralized and broken remnants of the Crane army he had pursued for months, but a razor-sharp line of infantry prepared to charge across the prepared ground and engage his forces!
The battle that day was epic. The leader of the Crane was Doji Hoturi, still weakened but determined to end this foe who sullied the name of the house of Doji. The real Hoturi reached the False in the middle of the melee and issued an ancient challenge. Two blades flashed, but only one struck true. In moments, the threat to the Crane was dead, cleaved entirely in two by Hoturi's lightning-fast stroke. At that moment a great war cry arose from the Crane army. No matter what the storytellers say, know this: even the most cold-hearted infernal oni from the deepest pits can know mortal fear.
Meanwhile, far across the Empire, a more tragic tale unfolded.
Matsu Tsuko reeled from the Lion's defeat at the gates of Otosan Uchi. Hida Kisada may have died in the attempt (or so the rumors say), but Tsuko failed utterly to protect the capitol and her emperor. As the days grew longer and winter grew close, Tsuko was left to her own bitter memories of the day she was forced to stand and watch as the Crab and their Shadowlands allies crushed the armies of the Lion.
Far to the south, Hida Yakamo tended to his injured father. Rumors had gone forth that said Kisada was no more, but his incredible strength of will kept him alive when anyone lesser would have perished.
Kisada's eldest son and heir, Hida Yakamo, looked around him at the grim faces of the Crab warriors and saw little that raised his spirits. When once there was a fierce pride in the duty to defend the Empire against the Shadowlands, now Yakamo saw only broken faith, sullied honor, shattered illusions, and fear on the faces of his bushi. Kisada would never lead the armies of the Crab again, oni stalked the land bearing Yakamo's name, and the bitter memory of Sukune haunted them still. Yakamo thought long and hard on the price of victory. Then he made a fateful choice.
Tsuko, too, made a fateful choice. Something within her cried out for solace, and she subconsciously knew that only Toturi could put her aching soul to rest - Toturi, the only person fit to lead the honorable warriors of the Lion. In this time of turmoil and confusion, only he had shown a clarity of purpose and unswerving duty toward the Empire. He was the dishonored son of her own clan. The man the Lion called "Toturi the Black." Today, no Lion samurai would follow Toturi, regardless of the need. Tomorrow, those who did not might indeed cause the end of the Empire and the enslavement of humankind.
Tsuko sneaked into Toturi's camp late at night, deftly avoiding the sentries. She made her way to his command tent and surprised the guards, but Toturi himself stepped from the shadows of his tent, saw Tsuko standing in the frigid night air, and beckoned her to join him within.
Tsuko explained herself quickly. If the Lion were to survive, they must break their ancient oath to defend the Emperor and instead embrace the true nature of that promise - to defend the Empire itself. But the Lion are a proud and honorable clan, and their vows bound them with the strength of a hundred generations. Tsuko herself swore an oath to serve the Emperor personally. Her honor prevented her from breaking that oath, yet her conscience demanded that she cease serving the evil creature that occupied the Emperor's body.
Likewise, the samurai of the Lion Clan had sworn an oath to follow her, appointed the Lion daimyo by the Emperor on the day he was disgraced. Tsuko knew that the Lion would not - could not - join Toturi's army. While she lived, they must follow her and the promises that bound the clan together. The only solution was to pass the reins of power back to Toturi and remove herself from consideration.
A flash of steel, a moment of intense pain - then Toturi's blade swept through the crisp night air and Tsuko was no more. In the morning, Toturi read her death poem and wept. In the days ahead, the Lion would learn the true meaning of sacrifice and virtue.
A second cut was made that night as well. Howling with the incredible, burning pain, Yakamo sawed the Tainted claw from his own wrist, searing the putrefied stump in the embers of the fire that warmed Kisada's chambers. The pain was too great for even Yakamo to bear in silence, and his own screams echoed through the dank chambers of Hida Palace. Yakamo dragged himself from Kisada's chambers and staggered into the inner sanctum of the Crab Clan. There, among a hundred other rare and fabulous items, was an articulated hand made entirely from the finest jade. As his vision narrowed and his breath grew short, Yakamo placed the hand on his wrist and wrapped the joint with a silken cord inscribed with the wards and protections against evil taught to every Crab bushi in childhood.
Yakamo's last sight was of a strange, hooded figure leaning over him, pressing cool herbs into his tortured flesh and whispering a soothing ritual.
Kuni Yori, the Crab shugenja who had negotiated the treaty with the Shadowlands and grafted the claw to Yakamo's hand years earlier, now fled his home for the dark lands beyond.
Far to the north, the Elemental Masters of the Phoenix had all been corrupted from studying the Black Scrolls - all save Isawa Kaede, who had vanished. Yet for all the knowledge, still the questions remained unanswered. Isawa Tadaka, always the strongest of their number, summoned an oni and gave it his own name to bind it to the material world. By torturing this oni, the Phoenix learned much of the dark god Fu Leng and his minions. The price they paid is terrible indeed, however, as it drove the Masters, save Kaede, towards madness. The worst-affected, Isawa Tsuke, engaged in a murderous rampage against his own kin, striking down any Phoenix shugenja who crossed his path.
Alone in the mountain fastness, Togashi Yokuni alone knew that the great cycle was nearly complete and the events he had waited a thousand years to witness were about to unfold. The Seven Thunders walked the Empire, and Shinsei's descendant had arrived to end the menace of Fu Leng once and for all. Yokuni might save an Empire, but if he did, he would kill his own brother.