(Region 2 - San Francisco, CA, USA; made public by L5R)

Ryoko Owari Toshi, Scorpion Lands

Night in the City of Lies was a time of celebration. Every evening the rugged souls who toiled tirelessly from dawn until dusk to keep the city working embraced their few hours of free time and the handfuls of coins they could spare. Sake was consumed in vast quantities, and other diversions were found in abundance on Teardrop Island and in the seedier portions of the Fishermen’s Quarter. Crime was held in check only by the slimmest of margins, but the canniest of the city’s criminals could easily ply their trade without fear of exposure, so long as they were cautious.

On the eve of Iuchiban’s death, the revelry was in full swing. The fear that permeated the city gave way to a desperate need for diversion, and for weeks every night had been as frantic as the Bon Festival. Peasants filled the streets, singing, drinking, and generally trying to escape their fear. They depended upon the Scorpion for their protection, and surrendered their inhibitions. Cries of celebration, pleasure, and sometimes pain were common through the muggy night air.

The festivities were interrupted by an explosion that lit up the sky above the Fishermen’s Quarter, emptying the streets in a moment. The building that erupted into a firestorm had been a minor storehouse, merely one of countless places for the city’s merchants to store their many wares. The three men who emerged from the flaming ruin were recognizable to the few who remained. They were merchant vassals, minor samurai whose unsavory duties included participating in the realities of commerce. The witnesses had only enough time to recall how unremarkable the men had been before they unleashed their foul magic upon any within reach.

“Kill them all!” the leader shrieked. His once vibrant orange kimono was stained with blood and filth, and his eyes had the wild look of a madman. “Kill them for the master!” He summoned his black energies for another burst of maho, seeking to add to the number of smoldering corpses on the street. He hissed in fury, but no sound emerged. The Bloodspeaker reached to his throat, confused, only to see his hand come away covered in blood.

The Bloodspeaker cast about, looking for his comrades, but they both lay dead. One sported several arrows, and the other lay in a pool of blood. The sorcerer tried to speak, but there was only blood.

“You were a fool to think that Maru did not suspect,” a voice whispered from the shadows. “You were a fool to think that the Scorpion would allow you to threaten their city.” A form loomed closer, clad in terrible black and red. A glint of steel flashed in the darkness. “This city belongs to the Scorpion. The Scorpion serve the Emperor. The Emperor has ordered your death.” The warrior loomed closer, but stopped at the last moment, seeming to reflect. “I have asked forgiveness of every soul I have every killed,” he said at last. “I have sought escape from my darkness. But I will not ask for yours.”

The steel glinted again, and the darkness was purged from the city.