Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: rudnick@cfatrw.harvard.edu (Bret Rudnick) Subject: [VampQ] More Dreams Message-ID: Date: Fri, 7 Jan 1994 12:44:20 GMT ============================================================ [VAMPQ] More Dreams Admin [The cast of characters for the [VampQ] thread: Character Created/Managed by --------------------------------------------------------- Ja'nis arsmith@lamar.ColoState.EDU (Alan Smith) Bluestar Dreamer (in absentia) Gemini (Feline familiar of Bluestar Dreamer) Moria Runecaster Master Hawk Rathan Barbar Morning Reaper Ah (Blood spider created by Rathan) Turion "Mr. Sinister..." a salamander (Turion's Travelling Companion) Billy the Torch JGE103@PSUVM.PSU.EDU Matte Kudasai Matt Hebert Tomonobu Fujiwara rudnick@cfatrw.harvard.edu (Bret R. Rudnick) Synopsis: Tomonobu is still tormented by visions of his past, after being rendered unconscious during a battle. While in that state, he is having a flashback dream. The time is before he came to Generica, in Tokugawa-era Japan, the place is the mountainous province of Echizen. He is here a young man of about 20. This story tells how he came into possession of his mystic blade Onigoroshi.] Admin [As always, comments/questions welcome.] ============================================================ It would be dark soon. The evening shadows always lengthened faster in the mountains, as the sharp, high surrounding peaks blocked the light. Tomonobu knew he would not finish his journey today. He had passed a village early in the afternoon and could have found lodging there, but he didn't like to linger. Even though he had delivered the letter as instructed, and could have tarried at one of the village inns (where the maids were known for their hospitality) he did not like to waste time. The Chief Retainer knew how long such a journey would take, and Tomonobu wanted to establish a reputation for discharging his duties in an above average manner. Had it been closer to summer than winter, he would have simply slept under the stars, or even pressed on were there a moon to see by. But the moon was new, and the air was getting cold. He needed to find shelter soon. As he jogged along the mountain road he noticed a light, obviously from a lantern, high up on the left. It looked like a little-used trail might lead up there, so he took that path. After nearly a mile or so Tomonobu saw the source of the light. There was indeed a lantern lit outside a mountain hut. Not wanting to startle the occupants he noisily walked up the step to the door. "Excuse me!" he called. "Is anyone home?" There was no answer, but Tomonobu could hear movement from within. There was a loud thud, as if something heavy was dropped, then silence. He tried the door but it was securely barred from the other side. "Go away!" He heard a voice crack. "You'll not fool me so easily. I said you can't have it and I meant it!" Tomonobu was puzzled. "You have me confused with someone else!" he said loudly. "I am but a traveller seeking shelter for the night. I could cut some wood for you or help in some way if you could give me shelter." There was a pause. "Step away from the door," the voice said. Tomonobu stepped back a few paces. A tiny portal opened in the small front door. An eye gazed at him, and scrutinised him from top to bottom. "Hm. A good disguise. Turn around." Tomonobu did as instructed. "Well, there's no tail, I'll grant you that. Now bend down so I can see the top of your head." Tomonobu bowed in the direction of the door. "No horns! It might be as you say!" There was a flurry of movement from behind the door as latches and bars were removed. The door opened to reveal a little old man as the occupant of the hut. His hunched posture made him look even smaller than his already tiny frame. He was no less than 80 years old, and almost certainly was older. Yet there was a twinkle in his eye and an unusual quickness in his movement that belied his years. "State your name and business," the old man said gruffly. "I am Tomonobu of the Fujiwara clan. I am returning from a courier mission and need shelter for the night. As I said, I would be happy to work for my keep." "Hm. Well, you're better mannered than most of your samurai lot these days, I'll give you that. Are you in league with any demons?" Tomonobu was rather surprised. "What?" "Demons! They're all around these mountains, you know. Want my life's work. Hm. I won't sell it to 'em, though, so they think to just take it! Rude bunch. Times are bad enough without demons getting the run of the place. If they got it there'd be no stopping 'em." Tomonobu decided the old man was either senile or demented. "Look, I'll just keep going down the road --" "No, no, that wouldn't do." The old man sprang from the steps and pulled on Tomonobu's arm to escort him in. "No one else around for miles. You'd get lost in the canyons or bewitched by the demon lights. Come in, come in." As they entered the hut the old man set about doing up all the latches and bars on the door. Tomonobu looked around and was astonished. The hut was much bigger inside than he thought it would be. It adjoined a huge workplace where, at one end, was a forge, a bellows, and several tools and stations to work metals. At the other end was a large open space with various bails of hay, logs, etc. used for testing weapons and honing martial skills. And along all the walls, covering every available space, were swords, spears, daggers, arrows, and all manner of forged weapons. Tomonobu absentmindedly wandered over to a wall and examined a large naginata (ADMIN: a type of halberd). "Magnificent," he whispered, examining the blade. The hamon and utsuri were exquisite. The polishing job itself was flawless. The decorative carvings on the blade seemed to come alive. The old man turned from the door, his task finished, and smiled. "Try it." Tomonobu carefully removed the weapon from the wall. He stepped to the open area and tried a few moves. The balance was perfect. "You handle yourself very well young man," the old man nodded approvingly. "Suio school?" "Hai," Tomonobu answered, and respectfully returned the weapon to its resting place. "Hm. Wait, I'll get tea." The old man returned a few moments later to find Tomonobu still captivated by the workmanship of several swords on a different wall. They sat around a fire in the middle of the room and sipped their tea. "Call me Tatsuo," the old man said. "You see around you the results of my trade." "Your work is like nothing I've ever seen," Tomonobu said, still in awe of the fine craftsmanship surrounding him. "Hm. I have learned much in my long life," the old man conceded. "But there is no one to pass it on to. I have outlived my apprentices, and they never passed the art on themselves. I fear I am the last of my kind. People don't know good workmanship these days. They just want a blade for hacking. That naginata you handled earlier took me over a year to make! Nowadays people want something in just a few days. I don't turn out cutlery, you know! My pieces live, and live on." The old man sighed. "I shall die soon, but part of me will live on in those things I have created. Mark my words! You're different, though. More to you than you think I know, eh? Hm. You don't live as long as I do without figuring out a thing or two about folks." Tomonobu had felt at ease with the old man but his penetrating gaze made him feel naked. It was as if the man could read his mind. "You seemed to think I was someone else earlier," he said, hoping to shift the focus away from himself. "Hm. Indeed. I thought you were that pesky demon again." Never having seen any, Tomonobu didn't believe in demons. But he felt he should humour the old man. "What does he want?" "My soul," the old man's eye's gleamed. He paused, and stared at the two swords Tomonobu carried. "Do you mind if I have a look at them?" he asked. Tomonobu removed the swords from his belt and handed them over. The old man quickly took them and unsheathed them. He stood up spryly and moved to the open area. "Hm. Not bad," he said as he examined the blades carefully. He then tested them with a few moves with a grace and strength not usually found in one so old. "Balance isn't too good though. I see you compensate for that in your stance. Shouldn't have to do that. Takes energy from the strike." The old man then went over to a section of the floor, removed the floorboards, and reached in to pull out two swords, one long, one short. He shuffled over to Tomonobu and pressed them into his hands. "Try these." Tomonobu carefully took the swords and placed them in his belt. They felt remarkably comfortable. He removed the grip of the longsword to see what was etched in the tang. On one side was the name of the maker, Tatsuo. On the other was the name of the sword. "Onigoroshi?" Tomonobu asked. [ADMIN: Onigoroshi = Demon Slayer] "Hm. Just so. Please test it." When drawn from the scabbard the blade seemed to glow with a pale yellow light, similar to the light of a full moon on a cold winter night. Indeed, the wake of the air around the blade was as cold as ice. Tomonobu stepped to the testing area and wielded the longsword. He could tell from his practise swings he held something rare and marvelous. It went through the hay and wood bales effortlessly. "Try the iron bar," the old man urged. Tomonobu hesitated. "But surely that would notch the blade. I don't want to ruin such a wonderful --" "Just do it!" the old man fairly shouted. Tomonobu shrugged and brought the blade down on a heavy iron bar made for such tests. The blade sliced through the bar with little resistance, much to Tomonobu's amazement. There was no hint of damage to the cutting edge. Tatsuo smiled. "When I was a boy I saw a star fall from the sky. It landed in a small valley, not far from this place. At the heart of the object that fell was an iron rock like I have never seen. I spent my whole adult life working it, polishing it, and made the two swords you hold. My very soul is in those blades." "They are truly magnificent," Tomonobu praised, and moved to return the blades to the elderly gentleman. Tatsuo put up his hands and shook his head. "I don't want them back. They're yours, if you like them." Tomonobu's eyes went wide with astonishment. "I would be foolish to turn down such a gift. But why me?" Tatsuo rubbed his hands together and his eyes narrowed. "Hm. Some say our fate is written in the stars and our lives predetermined from the outset. I daresay for most people that's probably true. But it's not true for you. You write your own fate. You're different. And I've not yet met anyone more worthy to carry those blades." The old man then pointed a finger at the young warrior. "But I do you no favours! Since I finished this work the demons have come to know of it and will not rest until they have them! The swords must have some great power that even I am not aware of. In their hands, only ill can come of the blades. In the hands of someone like you, perhaps not. I think I have judged rightly." Tomonobu said nothing. How could such a master craftsman believe in fairy stories? Tatsuo smiled. "Hm. I know you don't believe in the demons. You will. I think you will be a great warrior against them and their kind. If you accept the burden." Tomonobu embraced the old man. "Don't worry, grandfather," he said respectfully. "I shan't do anything to betray your trust in me." Tomonobu then stepped back and looked around. "Well, what can I do to earn my keep for the night?" * * * * * Tomonobu was roused from sleep just before sunup. "Time for you to get moving," the old man said, as he gave the young man a bundle of rice cakes for the journey. "If you want to make a good impression, you have to work hard!" Tomonobu dusted himself off and fitted his pack. He thanked the old man again as he took his leave on the doorstep. "I shall make sure someone looks in on you from time to time," Tomonobu promised. "A man of your age and ability shouldn't be alone all the time." Tatsuo smiled. "This place is difficult to find," he replied. "You may not see it again." Tomonobu waved and was soon lost to sight down the narrow mountain path. As soon as the young warrior was out of sight the hut shimmered and disappeared, as if it had been a mirage all along. The image of Tatsuo changed to its true form, that of a kitsune spirit. "Good luck!" the fox-spirit called out. "Keep to the Path!" Then, quietly to itself it said, "The tide turns in our favour, I think." In a flash, it was gone. -- |--------------------------------------------------------------------| | Who makes the rules? Someone else! -- Oingo Boingo | |--------------------------------------------------------------------|