Hera, Athena, Aphrodite. The contest from which the Trojan War erupted is now rekindled. The Shrine whispers: will I be a swift-footed rogue, amassing women for my heroic return to my old life? Or will I stay in this new world, spurning Aphrodite’s myriad beauties for one of power, palace intrigue and fierce battles? Power, warrior, lover—I hear its promises reverberate in my head. Then my eyes open.
The Shinto Shrine
Naked in a new world, a lacquered samurai set by my side, memories flood my conscious: a haze of smog and rush-hour traffic, the monthly bills, the swiped rejections. And then the fatal accident, the screeching tires splitting my ears.
I turn to my side and am met with my reflection in the Shrine’s water. Wind stirs my hair, whispering adventure, and a stone statue’s gaze bears down on me.
I stretch my entire frame and allow the wind to rush through me. +1 Agility
Immediately, a face flashes in my head. Her eyes are cast down and moonlight slashes across her naked body. The vision recedes. I taste adventure—an adventure far from my dreary life in the mundane world.
The Village
Greta Lee
I hear water flowing and follow its descent down the mountain until I reach a small hamlet.
I see a herbalist struggling to lift a heavy bamboo-woven basket laden with herbs. I rush to assist her. Her face is cut like diamond and I see mischief twinkle in her eyes. She asks me to try a herb and taking the three-cornered leaf, I bite down and feel hot desire throb in my veins. I see the dream girl’s face again; she is imbibing drops of green potion onto her outstretched tongue, looking at me. +2 Wisdom
The Bandits
Jennie Kim
Weeks later, as I become acclimated to village life as a day laborer, I begin to hear rumors of bandits from frightened farmers and village belles. A voice resounds in my head, “Perception is more important than reality,” and a new vision surfaces from the watery depths of my concious.
I see scarecrows in armor, footprints stamped on mud, and extra torches lit to ward off evil. I set to work, staging the impression of war-might in the humble hamlet. I also instruct the villagers to prop up spiked spears on the village’s entrance to funnel the bandit’s through a narrow pass. In the morning after, a single petite figure wades through the mist. I see her black eyes glistening with lust; her eyes darting across my samurai armor and sword. +1 Wisdom
The Daimyo
Kwon Eun-Bi
Days after I negotiate with the bandit’s delegate, the Daimyo welcomes me to his palace. I am not impressed by his management from what I have seen so far.
The Daimyo is cold and distant. He thanks me, but I hear a note of quiet scorn in his gratitude. He strokes his stiff beard, the machinery behind his eyes whirring in calculation.
I am escorted into the inner chambers, and as soon as I turnover in sleep. I hear my door slam and someone enter quickly. As I get to my feet, I am soon pounced on but then pin my assailant onto their back. “Ouch,” I hear a dainty voice ring out. “I only wanted to play.” A wicked grin flashes in the dark. Her bare skin revealed where her gown is parted. Wind stirring in my hair, I hear amorous whispers beckon me on. Against my better judgement, I plunge like falling water between the valley of her loins in quick haste, pistoning inside her, my feet scrambling like a judoka on the mat. I again see the dream-women; her lips drawn in a smirk. +2 Agility
The Onsen
Anna Akana
Rising above the riot of red, yellow autumn leaves, I spy steam coil and exhale its wet breath over the star-lit night sky. My body, travel-weary and sore from the raucous night with the Daimyo’s mistress, gravitates toward the steam’s source.
Once the forest clears, I am met with the sight of a regal bathhouse. Hesitant yet eager to rest, I make my way inside. Save for the dim-lit candles, the place is deserted.
“You’re not from here are you?” I hear a voice and turning, I am greeted by a cat-eyed woman who saunters toward me.
Closer now, her lips relaxed and parted, she examines my mein, her eyes sweeping up-and-down.
“I can help you get this heavy thing off.” Taking my hand, rough from the months of labor and strategem, she guides me to the hot spring.
“Are you suprised it’s empty? This hot spring only reveals itself to travelers.” I noted the emphasis she placed on the last word.
As she pulled my drawstrings, untying the unwieldy and combative armor and sword from my body, she further added, “Unlike most travelers, you seem special. Most travelers, they pluck at flowers, taking them home to transplant. Only to see their petals wither from unsuitable climes. But you—you want to plant your seed.”
“Of course, want is a strong word. But I can read the destiny in your palm.”
Untying her drawstring, she lets her robes slip from her graceful, white shoulders onto the cold, cobble-stone floor. Taking my hand, she guides me to the steaming waters. My eyes drink in her naked body which gracefully steps inside and then wades toward me once I am submerged in the pleasant warmth.
She nestles her body against mine own—a body utterly foreign to her yet whose design and purpose she knows.
She reclines her porcelain neck back, her body delicately held in mine like a precious china vase and says, “The wind tickles your hair, but I sense the water spirit truly blesses you. I sense a mind from which its depths surface possibilities. But most importantly, a soul in tune to the mystery of things.”
She adds, “I suspect you chose the wind because you neither trust the blind elite or the disorganized masses. You want to prevail through your own strength, because violence and war is the only political power you trust to meet the ends destiny spurs you toward.”
“Not to mention, your incorrigible lust for thrill and adventure.”
With that, she plants a cool kiss on my neck just as my heat enters inside her depths. +2 Wisdom
The Machi
Miki Hamano
Daniela Melchior
Pleasure—the city’s business. From my old life, I remembered the rows of family restaurants and strip malls which occupied city blocks. Despite the modern proclamation against brothels and prostitution, in reality, most small businesses are pleasure-houses: trafficking in gustatory delight or selling convenient trinkets and a super-abundance of clothes.
Desire and wants course through the veins of commerce and amidst the city’s bustle, I saw petty thieves and free-love preachers and skilled caligraphers and artisans. However, I was not interested in honor and craft nor was I interested in saving a woman’s purse from greedy hands. No, what I wanted was to be skilled in sex because unlike the free-love preacher, I knew the real victory was not persuading a woman to love often and well, but to enthrall her to my embrace to assure her fealty. I remembered how I let slip the chance of making the Daimyo’s mistress mine. How I even left his palace without a scrap of information from her though I indulged my appetite, so I resolved to learn how to make sex its own theater of politics and war.
With my mind bent towards a most carnal education, a vision flashed through my mind. I saw dream-girl throwing her head back in ecstasy. “Yes, slowly, gently. You learned well from the Blue Lotus.”
Returning to reality, I rest at a local inn waiting for nightfall. I consider how brothel ties can serve to gather useful intel.
Night-town, I walked through narrow alleys and felt the wind spirit guide me with each breezy touch to my destination. Finally, I arrived at an unassuming establishment, a single blue paper lantern hanging above its doorway. It’s light was pale and ghostly.
I parted the paper screen and my eyes were met by a lithe, feline figure dressed in a black and red qingpao. Her dark eyes surveyed my presence. One eyebrow cocked up, she simply said, “5 gold coins.”
“You have talent I heard. The stuff of dreams,” I said. “I can make you more than the flesh you sell.”
“Do you think all I sell is flesh? That my gifted frame and sculpted face is enough for men to part with their coin and spill? Granted, my beauty has been spoken of as otherworldy, but the male erection is a pitiful thing. Even a common hussy washing clothes in a river excites a wayward foot-soldier. The bar for getting a man excited is so low even a scribble can do it. No, what I give men is not my body alone, but an experience they never knew they craved.”
Hera, Athena, Aphrodite. The contest from which the Trojan War erupted is now rekindled. The Shrine whispers: will I be a swift-footed rogue, amassing women for my heroic return to my old life? Or will I stay in this new world, spurning Aphrodite’s myriad beauties for one of power, palace intrigue and fierce battles? Power, warrior, lover—I hear its promises reverberate in my head. Then my eyes open.
The Shinto Shrine
Naked in a new world, a lacquered samurai set by my side, memories flood my conscious: a haze of smog and rush-hour traffic, the monthly bills, the swiped rejections. And then the fatal accident, the screeching tires splitting my ears.
I turn to my side and am met with my reflection in the Shrine’s water. Wind stirs my hair, whispering adventure, and a stone statue’s gaze bears down on me.
I stretch my entire frame and allow the wind to rush through me. +1 Agility
Immediately, a face flashes in my head. Her eyes are cast down and moonlight slashes across her naked body. The vision recedes. I taste adventure—an adventure far from my dreary life in the mundane world.
The Village
I hear water flowing and follow its descent down the mountain until I reach a small hamlet.
I see a herbalist struggling to lift a heavy bamboo-woven basket laden with herbs. I rush to assist her. Her face is cut like diamond and I see mischief twinkle in her eyes. She asks me to try a herb and taking the three-cornered leaf, I bite down and feel hot desire throb in my veins. I see the dream girl’s face again; she is imbibing drops of green potion onto her outstretched tongue, looking at me. +2 Wisdom
The Bandits
Weeks later, as I become acclimated to village life as a day laborer, I begin to hear rumors of bandits from frightened farmers and village belles. A voice resounds in my head, “Perception is more important than reality,” and a new vision surfaces from the watery depths of my concious.
I see scarecrows in armor, footprints stamped on mud, and extra torches lit to ward off evil. I set to work, staging the impression of war-might in the humble hamlet. I also instruct the villagers to prop up spiked spears on the village’s entrance to funnel the bandit’s through a narrow pass. In the morning after, a single petite figure wades through the mist. I see her black eyes glistening with lust; her eyes darting across my samurai armor and sword. +1 Wisdom
The Daimyo
Days after I negotiate with the bandit’s delegate, the Daimyo welcomes me to his palace. I am not impressed by his management from what I have seen so far.
The Daimyo is cold and distant. He thanks me, but I hear a note of quiet scorn in his gratitude. He strokes his stiff beard, the machinery behind his eyes whirring in calculation.
I am escorted into the inner chambers, and as soon as I turnover in sleep. I hear my door slam and someone enter quickly. As I get to my feet, I am soon pounced on but then pin my assailant onto their back. “Ouch,” I hear a dainty voice ring out. “I only wanted to play.” A wicked grin flashes in the dark. Her bare skin revealed where her gown is parted. Wind stirring in my hair, I hear amorous whispers beckon me on. Against my better judgement, I plunge like falling water between the valley of her loins in quick haste, pistoning inside her, my feet scrambling like a judoka on the mat. I again see the dream-women; her lips drawn in a smirk. +2 Agility
The Onsen
Rising above the riot of red, yellow autumn leaves, I spy steam coil and exhale its wet breath over the star-lit night sky. My body, travel-weary and sore from the raucous night with the Daimyo’s mistress, gravitates toward the steam’s source.
Once the forest clears, I am met with the sight of a regal bathhouse. Hesitant yet eager to rest, I make my way inside. Save for the dim-lit candles, the place is deserted.
“You’re not from here are you?” I hear a voice and turning, I am greeted by a cat-eyed woman who saunters toward me.
Closer now, her lips relaxed and parted, she examines my mein, her eyes sweeping up-and-down.
“I can help you get this heavy thing off.” Taking my hand, rough from the months of labor and strategem, she guides me to the hot spring.
“Are you suprised it’s empty? This hot spring only reveals itself to travelers.” I noted the emphasis she placed on the last word.
As she pulled my drawstrings, untying the unwieldy and combative armor and sword from my body, she further added, “Unlike most travelers, you seem special. Most travelers, they pluck at flowers, taking them home to transplant. Only to see their petals wither from unsuitable climes. But you—you want to plant your seed.”
“Of course, want is a strong word. But I can read the destiny in your palm.”
Untying her drawstring, she lets her robes slip from her graceful, white shoulders onto the cold, cobble-stone floor. Taking my hand, she guides me to the steaming waters. My eyes drink in her naked body which gracefully steps inside and then wades toward me once I am submerged in the pleasant warmth.
She nestles her body against mine own—a body utterly foreign to her yet whose design and purpose she knows.
She reclines her porcelain neck back, her body delicately held in mine like a precious china vase and says, “The wind tickles your hair, but I sense the water spirit truly blesses you. I sense a mind from which its depths surface possibilities. But most importantly, a soul in tune to the mystery of things.”
She adds, “I suspect you chose the wind because you neither trust the blind elite or the disorganized masses. You want to prevail through your own strength, because violence and war is the only political power you trust to meet the ends destiny spurs you toward.”
“Not to mention, your incorrigible lust for thrill and adventure.”
With that, she plants a cool kiss on my neck just as my heat enters inside her depths. +2 Wisdom
The Machi
Pleasure—the city’s business. From my old life, I remembered the rows of family restaurants and strip malls which occupied city blocks. Despite the modern proclamation against brothels and prostitution, in reality, most small businesses are pleasure-houses: trafficking in gustatory delight or selling convenient trinkets and a super-abundance of clothes.
Desire and wants course through the veins of commerce and amidst the city’s bustle, I saw petty thieves and free-love preachers and skilled caligraphers and artisans. However, I was not interested in honor and craft nor was I interested in saving a woman’s purse from greedy hands. No, what I wanted was to be skilled in sex because unlike the free-love preacher, I knew the real victory was not persuading a woman to love often and well, but to enthrall her to my embrace to assure her fealty. I remembered how I let slip the chance of making the Daimyo’s mistress mine. How I even left his palace without a scrap of information from her though I indulged my appetite, so I resolved to learn how to make sex its own theater of politics and war.
With my mind bent towards a most carnal education, a vision flashed through my mind. I saw dream-girl throwing her head back in ecstasy. “Yes, slowly, gently. You learned well from the Blue Lotus.”
Returning to reality, I rest at a local inn waiting for nightfall. I consider how brothel ties can serve to gather useful intel.
Night-town, I walked through narrow alleys and felt the wind spirit guide me with each breezy touch to my destination. Finally, I arrived at an unassuming establishment, a single blue paper lantern hanging above its doorway. It’s light was pale and ghostly.
I parted the paper screen and my eyes were met by a lithe, feline figure dressed in a black and red qingpao. Her dark eyes surveyed my presence. One eyebrow cocked up, she simply said, “5 gold coins.”
“You have talent I heard. The stuff of dreams,” I said. “I can make you more than the flesh you sell.”
“Do you think all I sell is flesh? That my gifted frame and sculpted face is enough for men to part with their coin and spill? Granted, my beauty has been spoken of as otherworldy, but the male erection is a pitiful thing. Even a common hussy washing clothes in a river excites a wayward foot-soldier. The bar for getting a man excited is so low even a scribble can do it. No, what I give men is not my body alone, but an experience they never knew they craved.”
[TODO]
Wow, this is truly amazing, I can’t wait to read more! It would be sad to go back to the real world after this