The New Winds

The Age of Heaven and Earth
As compiled by Imperial Scribe Miya Chinatsu
The long and glorious history of our Emerald Empire traces directly from its founding by the divine Kami. Thanks to the many wondrous gifts they bestowed upon humanity—including art, learning, and the Code of Bushidō—Rokugan endures as the shining epitome of civilization. And it is thanks to the gifts of the Celestial Heavens that Rokugan had strength to weather the great threats that assailed it at the dawn of history.

The Creation of the World
In the beginning there was Nothing. This was not the nothing of the Void, for that is unchanged, unchanging, and unchangeable. This Nothing was the source of all, but first it was empty and alone. After uncountable ages, Nothing realized it was alone, and it became afraid. This created a third of the world. Then Nothing longed for a companion, and this longing created another third of the world. Then Nothing realized what it had done and regretted fear and longing, and the last third of the world was created. Then there was no more Nothing, and in its place was the world.

The world then did not have the form we know today. At that time, it was formless and fluid, like dark oil swirling in water. Eventually, the lighter parts separated out and became the Heavens, and the heavier parts sank down and became the earth. Then the Three Nameless Gods appeared, and they saw that while Heaven and earth had been formed, everything within them was still wild and unshaped. After taking counsel with themselves they created two gods, and sent them out to give shape to the world. The beings meditated on how this could be done, and then they bowed down, kissed the earth, and named it.

Now that it was named, the earth was filled with life, and new gods and beasts appeared: the ocean lord Suijin, the wind god Kaze-no-Kami and the Four Cardinal Winds, the Elemental Dragons, and many others. The two gods who named the earth also gained names: the man became Onnotangu, the moon, and the woman became Amaterasu, the sun. Attending them in the Heavens was the shinzoku, or tribe of the gods, while the mazoku demons of the underworld toiled beneath the earth to oversee the souls of the dead (few though they were in those days).

There were no humans yet, and the earth was populated by the Five Ancient Races: the tengu, the kitsu, the ningyo, the trolls, and the zokujin. We know very little about those times, for their empires rose and fell and left no record. The last of the kitsu married followers of Lord Akodo and founded the Kitsu family, but if they bequeathed stories of their past to their descendants, Lion historians have not shared them. The Kami Shiba, founder of the Phoenix Clan, married a ningyo woman, Tsumaru, and her granddaughter later published an account of her grandmother’s stories.

The Unicorn Clan historian Ide Takauji claims that after the Five Ancient Races another race, serpentlike, dwelled in the lands that later became Rokugan. He bases this on certain ruins that have been found in the Shinomen Forest, which have many statues and carved murals of snakes with humanlike features.

The Descent of the Kami
Across the span of ages, Amaterasu and Onnotangu were blessed with children: the nine Kami. For a time, the Celestial Heavens were joyful, but as the children grew, Onnotangu noticed how strong and talented they were, blessed with both his blood and that of Lady Sun’s, and he began to fear that one of them would usurp his power. Envy and fear grew in his heart, until finally, he resolved to make sure that this would never come to pass—by devouring his children. Amaterasu wept bitterly at the thought, her tears falling to the earth below and forming large pools. Being unwilling to tear apart the heavens by warring with her husband directly, she sought a different path. Each time Onnotangu swallowed one of the children, she offered him a cup of sake with a single drop of poison in it. By the time he came to the youngest child, Hantei, Lord Moon was so muddled by his drinks that Amaterasu was able to swap a stone wrapped in Hantei’s clothing for the real child and her husband swallowed it instead. Then he fell asleep.

Amaterasu smuggled Hantei out of the palace and hid him. As he grew, she taught him of honor and war. When he had learned everything, she armed him with a sword made of starlight and sent him to rescue his siblings. Onnotangu was awakening from his sleep as Hantei strode to the palace. Seeing his shining son, Lord Moon roared with anger, seized his sword, and rushed out for battle. Their duel lasted many ages, Hantei deftly evading his father’s strikes but landing his own blows. As Onnotangu’s blood fell from Heaven, it landed in the pools of Amaterasu’s tears. From each pool, two humans stood up and looked around in wonder—for humanity is made from the tears of Lady Sun and the blood of Lord Moon.

After an interminable time, Hantei found his opening. Gathering all his strength, he cut deeply across his father’s stomach, and his siblings came tumbling out fell to earth. Fu Leng was the last, and Onnotangu caught him as he fell. Hantei swung again and cut his father’s hand off, leaving Fu Leng to fall with the others. Howling in despair, Fu Leng grabbed for Hantei, and both brothers fell. As the glory of the Heavens receded, the brothers tumbled apart, and Hantei did not know where his brother fell. Hantei, Akodo, Doji, Hida, Togashi, Shinjo, and the twins, Shiba and Bayushi, all landed close together.

When they reached the earth, the Kami were doubly amazed: First, they were astonished to discover that they were now mortal and could die. Then, they were amazed by humanity, which, despite its connection to Lady Sun and Lord Moon, was in a pitiable state.

The Uncivilized Times (Prehistory–5 IC)
At the dawn of the age of humanity, humans lived scattered across the world in tribes, as the Yobanjin in the north still do. They worshiped the Fortunes, the gods of human endeavors, and their priests traveled the spaces between human and spirit and beast. These peoples lived in small villages, although in a few places there were towns. They made pottery without pottery wheels, and they forged crude tools and weapons from bronze. They clothed themselves in hides and woven grasses, and they hunted in and gathered their sustenance from the forest. A few tried their hand at cultivating small swaths of the wild grains and beans they found. Yet the crops were as delicate as petals on the wind, and the fury of the young gods of storm and sea could wipe them out in an instant.

For all this, humanity’s heart had yet to be stirred to the creation of true art. Without letters to record their past, humans relied on stories passed down from one generation to the next. Without dyes or the cultivation of rice, their garb was crude and their harvests meager. The tribes danced and sang to the beat of drums, but they did so wildly, knowing neither melody nor harmony. Warfare, most commonly raiding, was conducted with little strategy and no honor.

The Kami took counsel among themselves and decided that they would each travel through the world and judge its worth. As they were all beautiful, strong, and wise, they attracted a great deal of attention from the tribes they visited. Soon, each of them had a retinue of humans who desired to learn more of the arts of Heaven from them. Writing and calligraphy, forging tools of iron and steel, stringing instruments, acquiring the strength that comes from honor and loyalty, and many other practices and ideas spread through the land as the Kami traveled.

The Light of a New Dawn (5 IC–39 IC)
Finally, the Kami reunited at the place where they had landed. Once again they took counsel and decided that although humanity had great worth, it must be organized and governed with wisdom so that its worth could blossom. That settled, they then held a tournament to determine who among them would become the leader of this new land. Lord Togashi did not participate in the tournament, for it is said that in his great wisdom, he foresaw that Hantei would be the victor.

Having determined who would be Emperor, the Kami set about creating an empire. Except for Emperor Hantei, all of the Kami established clans made up of their followers. Emperor Hantei allotted land to each of the clans, giving them permission to farm it so long as they paid taxes to him. Each of Hantei’s siblings organized the tribes in their lands and began to establish schools, which taught the ways of Bushidō. All of them started schools for warriors, because the land was still dangerous to travel in. Many people did not understand the great blessings that the Kami had brought to earth and resisted their rule. But some had other schools as well. Lady Doji’s was the most famous, for she was the first patron of the arts, and her students spread through the new Empire carrying stories and other works of art about the Kami and the Celestial Heavens. Soon towns swelled into cities, and roads met to link the territories. The Emperor chose as the site of his capital the hill where the Kami first fell to earth, and Otosan Uchi was built.

The War Against Fu Leng (39 IC–42 IC)
For many years, all was well in the new Empire. The clans grew as people across the Empire became aware of the great wisdom and nobility of the Kami, and Emperor Hantei established laws that reflected the perfection of the Celestial Heavens.

One day, Fu Leng arrived in Otosan Uchi and reunited with his siblings. The other Kami were at first joyous to learn that their brother had survived, but worry clouded their joy, as the Crab Clan knew well of the evil stirring to the south, from where Fu Leng had come. Fu Leng raged against his siblings for having excluded him from the tournament that had decided who would rule Rokugan, though they assured him they had not known he yet lived. He accused them of lying, of leaving him to die, and of choosing not to search for him. The other Kami soon saw, wisely, that Fu Leng had been corrupted by the evil of Jigoku, the twisted counterpart of the true underworld.

Fu Leng demanded the right to challenge Hantei for leadership of Rokugan. Sadly, Hantei accepted the duel, but chose Togashi as his champion. When Fu Leng told Togashi to choose a weapon, the wise but forlorn founder of the Dragon Clan chose all of Rokugan and all who dwelt within it. Further enraged, Fu Leng retreated to the Shadowlands, vowing to return with his own army to fight their duel.

Soon, word came from the South of towns and villages overrun by armies of creatures born of nightmare: goblins, demonic oni, and other creatures both feared and unknown. Warriors sworn to defend the new Empire gathered to do battle against this terrible host, but all were defeated. Fu Leng was using evil sorcery to summon his armies and lead them to victory. Slowly, the armies raised by Hantei and his siblings were pushed back.

A Kami Kneels
It was during this time that the tribe of Isawa joined the Empire. Previously, Isawa, who was a spiritual leader of great ability and held the confidence of the Fortunes and the kami, had seen no value in placing himself and his tribe under the protection of the Children of the Sun and Moon. As the war proceeded, the Kami Shiba went to the tribe and asked them to help in the war. Isawa refused, as he did not want his tribe to lose their traditions. Shiba then knelt before Isawa and swore that he and his descendants would serve and protect Isawa and his tribe if they agreed to become part of Shiba’s clan. Isawa was much impressed by this display of sincerity and accepted. So it is to this day that while a Shiba is always the Champion of the Phoenix Clan, the Phoenix are ruled by the descendants of Isawa.

The Little Teacher
One day, an old man dressed as a monk came to Hantei’s camp. He said his name was Shinsei, and that he knew how the Emperor could defeat the armies of Fu Leng. Hantei would not listen at first, but after Shinsei defeated—unarmed—the guards sent to remove him, the Emperor because curious. The two talked the whole night, and Shiba diligently copied down all that was said. These scrolls became the Tao of Shinsei, and they contained all of the Little Teacher’s wisdom concerning the world, the Five Elements, and Enlightenment.

Shinsei told the Emperor that fortune favors the mortal man, and so he would gather seven human warriors to defeat the Dark Kami. Hantei gave his permission, and so one warrior from each of the clans was chosen. Shinsei led these warriors, the Seven Thunders, into the South. For many weeks, nothing was heard from them. Then one day, in the midst of a great battle, the armies of Fu Leng suddenly became confused and disarrayed. The warriors of the Empire took heart and fought even more fiercely, driving their enemies from the field. It was clear to all that the Thunders had won—the Day of Thunder had arrived. Hantei ordered a great feast to be prepared to honor the heroes, but only Shinsei and Shosuro, the Scorpion Thunder, returned. Shosuro carried twelve scrolls that she said bound the defeated Fu Leng. Hantei ordered that these scrolls never be opened and gave them to the Scorpion Clan for safekeeping.

The Thousand Years of Peace
Now we come to the start of the era justly celebrated as the Thousand Years of Peace. Under the gracious rule of the Hantei emperors and guided by the descendants of the Kami, the people of Rokugan have enjoyed unbroken centuries of peace and prosperity. Gaijin travelers, were they permitted within our glorious empire, would gaze in envious admiration at the elegance, wisdom, and plenty that could be found throughout our lands.

The Spread of the Emperor’s Benevolence (42 IC–390 IC)
The Ki-Rin Depart
With the threat of Fu Leng’s armies gone, the people of Rokugan returned to the matter of building the Empire. Hantei did not forget the harm an enemy from outside Rokugan had caused, however, and he called his sister Shinjo before him. Lady Shinjo had always been the wanderer of the family, and she always met new peoples with interest and curiosity. The Emperor gave her and her followers, who at the time were known as the Ki-Rin Clan, the mission of exploring outside the Empire and seeing what threats might lie beyond its borders. Lady Doji was very sad to see Shinjo leave, as the sisters had always been close, and she gave Shinjo a beautiful fan that she herself had painted to serve as reminder of their bond.

The Reign of the Shining Prince
Shortly after Shinjo’s departure, Hantei passed beyond Ningen-dō, the Realm of Mortals. Some records state that he died from the lingering effects of a wound he had suffered in the war against Fu Leng, and some that he simply tired of the mortal world and returned to the Celestial Heavens in a flash of light. This is a matter best argued by priests, and not by historians, so we will move on.

Hantei was succeeded as Emperor by his son Hantei Genji, known to all as the Shining Prince. Genji was an elegant and accomplished man who, in his youth, pursued numerous adventures and escapades, thus blessing storytellers of the time with an abundance of material. As Emperor, he sponsored the building of many temples and monasteries, so that the knowledge of the Five Elements and the Tao of Shinsei could spread throughout the Empire. He also continued the building of a great network of roads between the cities of the Empire. Upon his death, he passed the throne to his eldest daughter, Murasaki, whose reign as Empress was long and prosperous.

Imperial Law and the Emerald Magistrates
It was during Genji’s reign that Doji Hatsuo and Soshi Saibankan reformed and codified Imperial Law. These laws had been formulated by the Kami Hantei and thus were perfectly just and without omission, but judges around the Empire, as flawed mortals, varied in their ability to apply them. By issuing annotated versions of the original laws, Hatsuo and Saibankan made it possible for magistrates in every part of the Empire to hand down consistent rulings. They also established the Emerald Magistrates, officials with Imperial writs of authority to investigate crimes and pass judgments on criminals.

The Blessings of Daikoku
Peace having been restored, the farmers of the Empire could apply themselves to improving agriculture. The first great advance came with the spread of iron tools, which were cheaper and sturdier than those of bronze. With such tools farmers could clear and tend more land. With the canals and ditches such tools could produce came reliable irrigation and the introduction of wetland, paddy-grown rice. Rice paddies produced greater yield from the same amount of land. Clans with access to flat, well-watered land soon enjoyed increases in both population and wealth.

The last great innovation was the discovery that one could make noodles from wheat flour. Wheat is a hardy grain that flourishes in areas too cold or dry for rice, but it takes a long time to cook as a whole grain, and ground-wheat porridge has little to recommend itself as a food. Noodles, however, are delicious and quickly became popular everywhere. More and more land was cleared and planted, giving the Empire a larger and more stable food supply.

As populations grew, so did trade. Merchants found the system of barter limiting, however. In many areas, small plates or bars of gold or jade were used in place of actual goods, but they were subject to problems of size variation and falsification. As the technologies behind mining and casting proliferated, coins facilitated trade between merchants, and the Emperor declared that the koku would represent the amount of rice needed to feed a person for one year. With koku and smaller coins, merchants could easily buy and sell their goods, and soon food, fabric, dyestuffs, and many other items were flowing over the roads of the Empire.

The Blessings of Fukurokujin
Literacy grew rapidly among the samurai class. The Crane, Phoenix, Dragon, and Scorpion Clans had always prized wisdom and the spread of ideas. They had embraced the Kami’s gift of writing since the beginning, finding it indispensable in the pursuit of their duties. Now, the lords of the Crab and Lion began to see the value of it for all of their warriors. Annotated maps made planning campaigns easier. Written orders did not depend on a messenger’s ability to remember exactly what a commander had said. Reports written after battles preserved knowledge for future commanders to learn from.

As the ability to read grew, so did the number of written works. In the very early days of the Empire, Akodo wrote Leadership, his treatise on war and generalship. Kakita, husband of Lady Doji—and the first Emerald Champion—wrote The Sword, which explains his techniques and philosophy of swordsmanship.

Perhaps in reply, his rival Mirumoto Hojatsu wrote Niten, which describes the two-sword technique he and his adopted father, Mirumoto, developed. The Tao of Shinsei needs no further explanation, and Isawa’s treatise Elements was also written in this era. Toward the end of the first century, Lies appeared; its true authorship has been disputed, but tradition credits it to the Kami Bayushi.

In the second century, works of literature appeared. Seppun Namika wrote The Shining Prince, a series of loosely-linked stories about Hantei Genji. Many books were written about Hantei Genji at the time, but Namika’s was considered the finest, and it is still read today.

The people of Rokugan also expanded on the understanding of the Celestial Heavens that the Kami and Shinsei bestowed on them. The Dragon Clan and the Seppun family made great advances in astrology. By studying the movements of Lady Sun, Lord Moon, and the other celestial bodies, astrologers could interpret the desires and actions of gods, and even anticipate them. In this way, wise individuals might predict momentous events, or determine the most auspicious time for their lord to undertake a certain action.

The Blessings of Jurōjin
The shugenja Agasha, a follower of Togashi, was among the first to clearly see that there is no contradiction between Shinsei’s teachings and the ancient Fortunist beliefs long held by the people. Drawing on the new understanding granted by the Little Teacher and continuing her studies of the kami and the natural world, Agasha discovered many healing practices that are foundations of medicine to this day.

In the early decades of the Empire, Agasha’s disciples and scholars throughout Rokugan made great advances in medicine and alchemical arts. They discovered restorative properties of herbs and other plants, taken alone or as part of an alchemical concoction. They also developed methods of harnessing a person’s ki to aid the healing process, such as by piercing the body with needles to correct imbalances of energies. Among the most influential scholars was Genjirō, a blind monk who traveled Rokugan, identifying herbs by smell and spreading the teachings of Shinsei.

The Blessings of Tea
It was also in this era that the tea ceremony, invented by Lady Doji, began to spread beyond the Crane Clan. It caught on among the Phoenix and Dragon Clans first, as they both appreciated the calm, meditative state it fosters. The tea ceremony also became highly popular in the Imperial Court, where courtiers of the Lion and Scorpion Clans learned it and took it back to their home provinces.

It would take centuries for the Crab Clan to adopt it, but eventually they stopped regarding it as a dull affair for empty-headed courtiers to show off their pottery collection and started regarding it as a mental discipline that clears the mind and readies it for battle.

The Time of Greed (390 IC–435 IC)
The Dimming of the Chrysanthemum
Near the end of the fourth century, altercations occurred between the Crane and Crab Clans over which clan had the right to control certain areas of land on their mutual borders. The conflict escalated when, for reasons of its own, the Yasuki family renounced their loyalty to the Crane and swore fealty to the Crab Champion. An Imperial decree could easily have resolved the entire matter, but at the time, while a Hantei sat on the throne, they did not rule the Empire.

Three samurai—the champions of Crane, Phoenix, and Scorpion Clans—had brought everlasting dishonor to their names by conspiring against the Emperor. Calling themselves the Gozoku, they banded together and kidnapped the Emperor’s heir, forcing the Emperor to grant them certain political concessions. After the Emperor’s death, the Gozoku prepared to install that heir on the Throne as their puppet emperor.

An Empire Restored
While the Emperor’s sons had all been fostered to daimyō in the Crane, Phoenix, and Scorpion Clans to be raised to be subservient to the Gozoku, his youngest child, Yugozohime, had been raised by the Lion. The clan of Akodo taught her the arts of war and instilled in her a reverence for Bushidō and the honor of her Imperial ancestors. When the Emperor died, Yugozohime challenged her eldest brother to a duel, killed him, and claimed the Throne for herself. The Gozoku were completely unprepared for this turn of events, and the new Emperor quickly broke their hold on the Imperial government. Once again, Lady Sun’s radiance shone upon her descendants and reinforced their right to rule.

A City Ascendant
During the time of the Gozoku, Otosan Uchi underwent a period of great growth. Before then, it had mostly consisted of the Imperial Palace and various houses maintained for the courtiers of the clans and the commoners who served them. Gozoku officials arranged to have the city’s harbor improved, and they extended the network of roads to the city. As a result, more samurai, craftspeople, and merchants traveled to the city—even some from lands beyond the horizon.

The Blooming of the Lotus (435 IC–442 IC)
The Ways of the Brotherhood

By the fifth century, the organization of monks known as the Brotherhood of Shinsei had begun to make significant advances in healing and medicine. As a result, both commoners and nobles increased their support for monks across Rokugan. Due to the Brotherhood’s burgeoning resources and the respect it commanded, it was able to greatly expand its membership and teach an increasing number of commoners about the Tao and the path to Enlightenment. While even the most remote peasant farmers knew the various folktales about the Little Teacher, solid knowledge of the Tao of Shinsei was lacking in many areas of the Empire.

Determined to spread correct teachings as widely as possible, the Brotherhood sponsored festivals in cities and towns across the Empire. The festivals featured dramatizations of events from the life of Shinsei interspersed with sermons and readings from the Tao. These performances soon gave rise to the form of theater known as Kabuki. Kabuki’s use of elaborate costuming and high-drama plots quickly made it a favorite among wealthy heimin and lower ranks of samurai. As writers of greater skill became interested in the form, it gradually became more acceptable to high-ranking samurai.

In addition to spreading the Tao, monks taught the tea ceremony to anyone who showed interest, whether samurai or heimin. Geisha learned the art as well, so as to perform the ceremony with their clients. Some samurai were aghast at the idea of mere merchants performing the tea ceremony, but many priests argued that it did no harm and might help them cleanse their spirits of the effects of dealing with money. In the present day, geisha and well-off artisans and merchants in cities cities are the commoners most likely to conduct the tea ceremony; one rarely finds farmers interested in such things. Over the years, several heimin have become known for their skill at the tea ceremony. Later in the seventh century, the tea master Risa, the daughter of a prosperous dyer, had a Crane lord as a patron.

The Blossom of Friendship
In the fifth century, foreigners came to Otosan Uchi seeking an audience with Emperor Yugozohime. This created a great stir in the Imperial Court. Prior to this time, the only gaijin within the Empire had been desert tribes from the West and merchant fleets from the Ivory Kingdoms and beyond. The gaijin seeking an audience with the Hantei came from Pavarre, a kingdom across the Sea of the Sun Goddess, and they hoped to conduct trade with the Empire. In her great compassion, Emperor Yugozohime allowed them to remain in Otosan Uchi for two years so that they might demonstrate whether they could adopt civilized behavior.

This created much political consternation as the leaders and courtiers of the clans debated how to react to the strangers. The Mantis, a minor clan, were especially active in this debate, as they saw an opportunity to increase their own wealth and influence. Many others were put off by the visitors’ strange customs or their ignorance of the Celestial Order.

Treachery Without and Within (442 IC–610 IC)
In the sixth century, steel was drawn and blood shed within the bounds of the Emerald Empire, though these conflict could never disrupt the Thousand Years of Peace. In truth, these incidents can scarcely be considered wars at all, for war requires humans to face their fellow humans with honor. For samurai to cut down gaijin and the corrupted denizens of the Shadowlands is no more warfare than for a magistrate to strike down a criminal.

Gaijin Treachery
After two years of controversy, the Hantei grew tired of the uproar caused by the gaijin. In her wisdom, and as was her right, she abruptly commanded that the gaijin cease their trade with the people of Rokugan and leave her lands immediately. As the Emperor’s decree was law, the pleadings and protests of the gaijin went unheeded. It was then that those ungrateful guests revealed the depths of their barbarous nature and took up arms against the Empire. In the ensuing clash, the Hantei herself was killed. After this, no mercy could be shown to the gaijin, and any found on Rokugan’s soil were immediately killed. This conflict became known as the Battle of White Stag, named for the cliffs from which vengeful samurai launched their counter attack. Those who managed to flee to their ships were confronted by the massed fleets of the Crane and Mantis Clans. If any managed to escape back to their homelands, they bought with them tales of the courage and skill of the Emerald Empire’s warriors.

Rise of the Blood Sorcerer
Perhaps enabled by the imbalance the gaijin had brought to Rokugan, a wicked practitioner of mahō, the forbidden blood magic, gathered a coterie of unclean followers and undertook honorless deeds against the Empire. The sorcerer known as Iuchiban came to light in the beginning of the sixth century, when the samurai artisan Asahina Yajinden presented swords he had forged to the champions of the Crab, Crane, Lion, and Scorpion Clans. Soon afterward, the Lion Clan Champion launched a disastrous winter battle against the Dragon Clan, the Crab Clan Champion murdered his children, and the Crane Clan Champion confessed to a love affair in front of his entire court. All three took their lives with these blades. Only the Scorpion Clan Champion escaped such a fate, soon revealing the smith’s corruption, and the presence of the Bloodspeaker Cult.

This cult was led by a Iuchiban, whose family and clan remain unknown. The vile sorcerer raised an army of the undead to march on Otosan Uchi—at that time in the Empire, corpses were buried, not burned. Thanks to the warning provided by the Scorpion Clan Champion, the Imperial Legions and the armies of the clans defeated the undead forces.

After his execution, Iuchiban was buried in a tomb specially warded to prevent his spirit from escaping. This gives him the distinction of being the last person in the Empire to be buried; after this the Emperor issued a decree that all corpses must be burned to prevent them from being desecrated by foul magic.

A Lamp Relit
The years of peace that followed saw the revival of Nō theater, which had begun to decline in the face of Kabuki. The playwright Kakita Iwane wrote a stunning series of plays about the lives and deaths of the Kami, which reignited interest in the form. For many samurai, after the tragedies of the Battle of White Stag and the Bloodspeaker assault on Otosan Uchi, Nō offered a connection to Rokugan’s glorious past, fulfilling a longing for those legendary days. Iwane’s plays focused on the actors’ ability to communicate vast emotional ranges with minimal action and served to differentiate it from its younger, showier rival.

As samurai embraced the tradition of Nō, Kabuki declined in popularity among the noble class, even as it ascended among the peasantry. Urban bonge revered popular Kabuki actors almost as much as the mythical characters they portrayed. The recently developed technique of woodblock printing first saw wide use during this time, as prints circulated depicting popular actors and their most famous characters. To the samurai, these mass-produced images were perversions of true art, lacking in soul and identity. The fact that they portrayed hinin in such a celebratory way only added to the indignity.

A Stark Lesson
In 533, during a moment of high optimism and dubious strategic logic, the Scorpion Clan launched an attack on Ikoma Castle. The attack failed, and in retribution, the Matsu attacked the Scorpion fortress of Meiyo no Shiro. After taking the fortress, they killed every single Scorpion in it and, to underline the point, renamed it Kenson no Gakka—Humility’s Lesson.

Heaven’s Judgment
The final years of the century saw the coronation, reign, and death of Hantei XVI, the only Emperor to have lost the Mandate of Heaven. While the first few years of his rule were promising, the Steel Chrysanthemum, as he is now remembered, descended into paranoia-fueled violence. Seeing treachery everywhere, the Emperor executed thousands of samurai for nonexistent crimes. The entreaties of courtiers, shugenja, and monks to show mercy were met by even greater displays of bloodshed. Finally, after Hantei XVI had ordered his mother to be strangled to death in front of the Imperial Court, his son led a rebellion of the Imperial Guard against him. That this was successful is clear indication that Amaterasu had withdrawn her favor from him.

After raising his hands against his father, the son of Hantei XVI shaved his head and retired to the Brotherhood of Shinsei, while each Imperial Guard involved in the deed committed seppuku. The youngest brother of the Steel Chrysanthemum became Hantei XVII, and his long, peaceful reign is proof that the Hantei line still holds the Mandate of Heaven.

Tides of Light and Darkness (610 IC–815 IC)
After centuries untroubled by the creatures of the Shadowlands, most people of Rokugan all but forgot about the threat. To most outside of Crab territory, the Shadowlands were a part of Rokugan’s origins, historically important but even further removed from the Empire of their time than the Kami, who hear their prayers daily. Many believe that the reemergence of the Shadowlands and the Blood Sorcerer in the eighth century was punishment from the Heavens—though whether for the crimes of the Steel Chrysanthemum or the blasphemy of the guards who turned against him, not all agree.

Advancements in the Arts
Toward the end of Hantei XVII’s reign, a Dragon alchemist named Agasha Hyuotaru developed a number of new ceramic glazes that possessed a depth of color not previously seen. At the same time, Kaiu Naizen developed a new type of kiln flue that gave potters more control over the firing process. The two advances combined to create a wide array of new decorative effects in ceramics. Masters of the tea ceremony became sharply divided over the appropriateness of the new styles for use in the ceremony, and a number of duels were fought over the issue.

Darkness in the South
The evil of the Shadowlands intruded upon the Empire twice in the eighth century. In what would later be called the Battle of the Tidal Landbridge, a large Shadowlands attack distracted the main forces of the Crab while a second force led by Kinjiro no Oni attacked the watchtower near Earthquake Fish Bay. The watchtower defenders were nearly overwhelmed before reinforcements arrived in the form of the Daidoji daimyō, Daidoji Masashigi, and his personal guard. They charged across the bay at low tide and eventually drew the Shadowlands forces back out into the bay, where the rising tide engulfed them.

No Crane survived the battle, and when Masashigi’s battered kabuto helmet washed up on shore, the Crab built a shrine in which to house it. Crab survivors began to refer to the Daidoji as “Iron Cranes,” a sobriquet that eventually spread to the rest of the Empire.

As later became apparent, the invaders defeated at the Battle of the Tidal Landbridge were only a harbinger of the threat to come. The next year, the forces of the great oni remembered as “The Maw” swept across Crab lands, pushing the clan’s lines so far north that Daylight Castle, the ancestral fortress of the Hiruma family, was lost entirely. Eventually, the combined forces of the Hiruma and Hida, reinforced with Kuni Purifiers and Witch Hunters, stopped the foul advance, and the Kaiu built the Carpenter Wall as we know it today. The Hiruma lands were never recovered, marking the first loss of territory since the founding of the Empire.

The Return of the Blood Sorcerer
The incursions of the Shadowlands might have been remembered as the greatest misfortunes of the century (even outside of Crab lands), had it not been for the events of year 750 IC. At that time, the spirit of the sorcerer Iuchiban escaped his tomb and possessed a body to serve as his own. Gathering an army of mahō cultists and reanimated corpses, he again attacked the Empire. The armies of the Great Clans stopped the advance of Iuchiban’s forces at the Battle of Sleeping River, and one of the mysterious monks of the Dragon Clan’s Togashi Order succeeded in trapping Iuchiban’s spirit in the monk’s own body long enough for both to be sealed into a tomb.

In the aftermath, magistrates found that in the years since Iuchiban’s first defeat, many villagers, village heads, and even priests, largely in small or remote settlements, had defied the Imperial edict against burying bodies intact. For placing their traditions above the will of the Hantei and thus endangering the Empire, these people faced harsh punishments.

A New Wind Blowing (815 IC–1123 IC)
The return of the much-changed Ki-Rin Clan to Rokugan began a time of great change and social upheaval within the Emerald Empire. For the first time since the founding of the Empire, Great Clans nearly came to true war against one another. Gaijin goods and people entered the Emerald Empire in numbers unseen since the Battle of White Stag. Some scholars wonder if these great changes are the cause of the current elemental imbalance observed by shugenja and demonstrated in the cataclysmic earthquake and tsunami of 1120.

A Clan of Horses and Samurai
In the year 815, the children of Shinjo returned from their wandering in a highly dramatic fashion. Due to a peculiar set of circumstances involving gaijin magic, they found themselves within the northern edges of the Shadowlands. In their haste to escape that Tainted wasteland, they ignored diplomacy and simply used their powerful cavalry to overrun the Crab defensive lines. The Empire was thrown into an uproar, for at first first, its people did not recognize the Ki-Rin as Shinjo’s clan. Along their journey, they had changed their name to Unicorn, and had adopted bizarre clothing and customs. Their language had also degraded away from pure classical Rokugani, even as the language within the Empire had developed over the centuries. Their horses, however, were a wonder to behold: large, wellformed, and swift. When the Scorpion armies attacked them, the Unicorn cavalry employed tactics never before seen in the Empire, crushing their opponents.

As the Unicorn hordes slowly made their way across the Spine of the World Mountains, the Lion Clan mobilized their armies. However, with the winter snows halting the imminent clash of armies, representatives of the Unicorn were able to make contact with the Crane. One of the treasures they bore was an ancient fan that they said had been Shinjo’s. The Crane declared that it was the fan that Lady Doji had given her sister and that the intruders were in fact Shinjo’s clan. The Emperor accepted this and forbade the Lion from attacking them. He also gave the Unicorn Clan the old lands of the Ki-Rin to settle upon. This created some animosity on the part of the Lion, as they had been given stewardship of the Ki-Rin lands, and this represented a considerable loss of fertile farmland. They were, however, obedient to the Emperor’s command and allowed the Unicorn to travel to their lands unhindered.

Despite the testimony of the Crane, at first, many in Rokugan regarded the Unicorn as little more than gaijin. They had odd names, unpleasant-tasting food, uncouth manners, and garish fashions. To make things worse, during their journey they had acquired a new family, the Moto, who were kin to the Ujik tribes of the western wastes. Some courtiers suggested that the Moto family should be expelled in accordance with the law forbidding gaijin, but the Unicorn Clan Champion appealed to the Emperor on their behalf. The ancestors of the Moto family had been adopted into the clan by command of Shinjo herself, he said, making them Rokugani. The Emperor agreed that a Kami’s authority could not be denied, and the Moto remained.

The Crane undertook the task of making the Unicorn more civilized, with mixed results. Shinjo’s children enthusiastically adopted theater (especially Nō), the tea ceremony, current teachings of the Tao and the elements, Rokugani cuisine, and incense appreciation. They refused to give up their foreign names, their own food, their clothing styles, or their custom of shaking hands as a greeting. When traveling outside of their lands, their courtiers and emissaries began to behave as proper Rokugani, but even today, to visit Unicorn territory is to travel into a foreign land.

Nevertheless, the Unicorn entered the life of the Empire. While at first, their political sway was nonexistent, they had a powerful effect on the economy. They brought with them new techniques of metalworking, leatherworking, and fabric dying. Along with fast, powerful horses the likes of which Rokugan had never seen, the Unicorn brought stirrups and advanced riding techniques. Soon, Unicorn horses were in demand throughout the Empire, though the clan parts only with geldings and the occasional mare, which ensures their control of the supply. Their travels gave them contacts with countries outside of the Empire, which they proceeded to develop in order to establish profitable trade routes. It was not long before ivory, rare woods, jewels, and costly herbs and spices were pouring through Unicorn hands and into the Empire.

Perhaps most importantly, the Unicorn brought with them the practice of meishōdō. Using this name magic, the Unicorn shugenja bind spirits within talismans, achieving similar effects to those that other clans obtain through making offerings to and beseeching the kami. To many shugenja and other priests, meishōdō is a blasphemous gaijin practice.

The Flower of Sleep and Dreams
One of those costly herbs was the opium poppy, source of the drug opium. The Unicorn had used it for centuries for relieving pain, and it was adopted by the healers of the Empire. As its use in medicine spread, however, some began smoking it as an amusement. It was quickly noticed that samurai who used opium in that fashion became less devoted to their lords, and soon there was an outcry against it. The herbalists of the Yogo family discovered that the opium poppy grew very well in the lands surrounding Ryokō Owari Toshi, so the Scorpion Clan Champion petitioned the Emperor to make the growth and use of the poppy subject to Imperial regulation. The Emperor granted this request and also gave the Scorpion the sole right to grow and manufacture opium.

Over the next ten years, the City of Lies quadrupled in size, and it continued growing, as the opium trade brought an endless stream of merchants and money to the city. While the Scorpion control of medical opium brought them much wealth, it did not, some magistrates complained, stop the misuse of the drug. Magistrates of the Kitsuki family at one time pointed out that the amount of land around the city dedicated to growing poppies was far larger than needed to produce the available supply of legitimate opium. The governor of the province explained that the extra was grown to assure a high-quality supply and the that the low- quality material was destroyed, and no one challenged him on this point. To this day, the lands surrounding Ryokō Owari are filled with vast fields of poppies.

The Rise of Cities
The tenth and eleventh centuries saw the biggest expansion of urban areas since the early days of the Empire. A number of factors contributed to this growth, including the many innovations brought by the Unicorn Clan. The renewed popularity of horses increased overland travel between the various provinces and cities, much to the consternation of the lords responsible for the upkeep of the Empire’s roads.

A number of advances in agricultural techniques and tools improved crop yields, allowing villages to meet the demands of the tax assessors even as youths left for the cities in greater numbers. The harnesses and yokes brought by the Unicorn made oxen and other beasts significantly more useful, while improvements in hand-operated pumps allowed for more efficient irrigation of fields. Some farmers began to trade their own goods in neighboring towns and cities, becoming merchants themselves.

To some traditional samurai, the upward mobility of the peasant merchants continues to represent an offense against the Celestial Order, yet to even speak of such matters is often seen as improper. The samurai of the Lion Clan fought strongly against these changes, visiting harsh punishments upon peasants who attempted to abandon their ancestral village for a new life in the city. Farmers who traded their own produce were accused of stealing from their lord and were treated accordingly.

After four centuries of Imperial isolation from gaijin, the importance of the Unicorn city of Khanbulak demonstrates that outsider influence is still on the rise in Rokugan. Encouraged by the Unicorn’s trading success, the Mantis Clan increased their own trade in gaijin goods with the Rokugani mainland. The official acceptance of the Unicorn back into the Empire was seen, in a way, to condone the gaijin practices and bloodlines they brought with them. As a result, gaijin goods, practices, and even travelers have slowly begun to meet with greater acceptance—or at least weaker resistance—in trading ports and even inland cities throughout the Empire. Once-small coastal communities such as Clear Water Village and Lonely Shore City grew tremendously during this time.

The Perfect Land Beckons
In the late ninth century, a young monk of the Shrine of the Seven Thunders formulated the controversial doctrine that gave rise to the Perfect Land Sect. Yuzue believed that the conversation between Shinsei and Hantei had initiated an Age of Celestial Virtue that lasted eight-hundred years—a century for each Kami who heard Shinsei’s teachings—and that the ninth century began the Age of Declining Virtue, marked by corruption and difficulty in following the Tao. To beseech Shinsei to return, the monk ceaselessly chanted the mantra Shoshi ni kie (“devotion to the Little Teacher” or “absolute trust in the Little Teacher”). Yuzue came to believe that if enough people chanted this mantra with sincerity, Shinsei would return to usher in a new Age of Celestial Virtue.

Yuzue’s student Gatai founded the Perfect Land Sect following Yuzue’s death, based on a sutra she had written shortly before her passing. This scroll claimed that Shinsei did not return to the Void when he departed from Ningen-dō, but instead dwelt in a Perfect Land within Tengoku, the Celestial Heavens. The Perfect Land Sect believes that those who chant the kie, as Yuzue’s mantra became known, can join Shinsei in the Perfect Land upon their death, rather than face judgment in Meido and rebirth based on their karma. In the Perfect Land, under the tutelage of the Little Teacher himself, the faithful can achieve Enlightenment without suffering on the wheel of rebirth.

To many in the Brotherhood of Shinsei, these beliefs are heresy, defying Shinsei’s own Tao and the Celestial Order. The Perfect Land Sect quickly gained popularity among the peasantry, as it offered something previously unknown: freedom from the trials of this mortal life, and the next. Many heimin believed the Age of Declining Virtue was a reference to corruption among the samurai class. This belief led many samurai to further denounce the sect. By the middle of the tenth century, the Perfect Land Sect was outlawed in Phoenix lands, driving many believers to seek safety and isolation in the Dragon mountains.

A New Glory
The arrival of the Unicorn also had a profound effect on the arts of the Empire, enriching it with new techniques and materials. Since that time. some Rokugani have decried the effect of “gaijin pollution,” and some artisans have been overly enthusiastic in incorporating the new techniques, but the reasonable critic must admit that the overall effect has been positive.

It is a fact that by the eighth century, most of the artists of the Empire had stopped copying the classics and started copying each other, with lamentable outcomes. Of that era only The Days of Salt and Sun, the journal that the duelist Ikoma Honzo kept of his warrior’s journey, displays any real merit. Honzo’s brushwork is deficient in several technical areas, but his sense of composition was flawless, and he had a real talent for capturing his subjects in midmotion. His wry humor was a brilliant match for the art. A lesser talent would have made the account of the two peasants, the wine jug, and the trout a matter of farce, but in Honzo’s hands, it is a delicate and sparkling bit of humor. Only Kakita Ayano’s poetry journals, filled with wan desire and sensitive descriptions of the passing seasons, comes close in quality. There is no third.

All of that changed in the ninth century. Whether an artist chose to embrace the new ideas brought by the Unicorn or to reject them, they were forced to look at the world as if it were new. Kakita Ume’s screen paintings for Kyūden Doji incorporated some of the new perspective techniques into classical subjects, showing how the new need not destroy the old. Many painters followed where she led. Shiba Kanko’s Plum Blossoms at Dusk and Doji Suko’s Red Steel inspired new interest in novels, and the recent publication of Kakita Ryoku’s brilliant novel Winter shows that the quality of the art has yet to wane. Also in this time, Bayushi Kiko and Kakita Mako began their long poetry competition, bringing both delicate insight and biting wit to the form. A scroll could be filled with further examples.

Unfolding of Glorious Promise
And so ran the first thousand years of our Empire, a land resplendent with honor and courage. We have entered days in which the favor of Lady Sun shines down upon the Hantei and our lands bask in the peace, prosperity, and justice of the Emperor’s rule.