Roads and Rivers
Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2020 4:23 pm
Roads and Rivers
The roads and rivers of Rokugan are the arteries that sustain the Emerald Empire. They carry food, mineral wealth, valuables, travelers, and soldiers throughout the provinces of the Empire
Highways (Kaidō)
The history and politics of the Emerald Empire can be read in its roads. The Crab and Lion Clans favor heavily built roads to support the rapid movement of soldiers and supplies, while the great plains of the Unicorn Clan are crisscrossed by soft dirt tracks: roads created more by horse traffic than by any engineering.
The largest and most well-traveled roads in Rokugan are known collectively as the Five Highways or the Emperor’s Road. These roads stretch into the hearts of all the clan lands, facilitating commerce, communication, and even war.
Branching off of the great highways are numerous smaller paths built to enable swift travel within a particular clan’s territory. These roads are essential for samurai and lower classes alike, but they are not with-out their dangers. Bandits often lie in wait for merchant caravans, and heavy rains can turn a well-packed track into so much mud.
Travelers in Crane or Dragon territory may fall victim to more intentional dangers. The Crane build their roads with blind corners and sudden changes of direction. These slow down advancing armies and provide opportunities for the skirmishers of the Daidoji family to take larger forces by surprise before fading away to escape retaliation. The roads through the Dragon Clan’s mountainous holdings are similarly treacherous, with narrow passes and steep climbs that help compensate for the clan’s low numbers in the event of attack.
The Five Highways and major roads are dotted with toll stations and way stations where travelers can stop for the night if they cannot reach the next village. Roadhouses are simple buildings with sleeping futons, cooking firepits, and a well. It’s considered gravely dis-honorable to leave a roadhouse in disrepair, for anyone may have to seek shelter there. Most roadhouses are maintained by the nearest village or town, which they are considered to be part of. Most towns and villages are located on a road, or at least not far off from one, meaning that only the most remote of villages can safely ignore being prepared for travelers. If a road is well traveled, all the villages along it are sure to host a teahouse, though some may be larger than others.
The Emperor requires that the Great Clans maintain roads within their territory, and no clan champion or provincial daimyō would even think of shirking this duty. Nonetheless, maintenance of roads is a great drain on coffers and the heimin workforce. Consequently, most clans fulfill the Emperor’s requirements, and do no more. However, on borders between clan holdings, the roads often fail to meet Imperial standards. Clan representatives are inevitably quick to reassure Imperial surveyors that such conditions are merely a temporary state of affairs due to bandits or weather, not willful neglect by a defense-minded daimyō.
Roads and Terrain
The purpose of a road is to facilitate safe, quick travel. However, there are times when, due to neglect or sabotage, a road may be as treacherous as the surrounding terrain, or even more so.
Muddy or uneven roads may be difficult terrain. Experienced travelers know to watch the weather and prepare for roads that steal sandals and trap pack animals.
Less-traveled roads are sometimes allowed to decay precipitously. Broken cobbles can shatter axles or turn ankles, and wooden bridges soon succumb to rot. Invaded clans may even sabotage their own roads to slow an enemy advance. These stretches may be considered dangerous terrain.
The Taint of the Shadowlands is reaching ever deeper into the Empire, and defiled terrain may be found anywhere. The sort of running battle that occurs on roads can easily lead to uncremated bodies and restless ghosts.
Certain pilgrimage routes may become Hallowed terrain either through the prayers of priests and shugenja or simply through careful, honorable maintenance.
In these troubled times, roads of Imbalanced terrain are becoming more common. Particularly in Phoenix lands, the preponderance of fire kami have left long stretches of road scorched and dry, even during a rainfall.
Travel Times
Distances in Rokugan are hard to pin down. For most travelers, factors like the weather and the quality of the roads mean that travel times can vary greatly even along familiar routes
The question is more fraught for those who have access to the Emperor’s approved maps. The Imperial cartographers commissioned to map the Empire did their best, but their technology, the terrain itself, and time constraints made taking accurate measurements extremely difficult. Worse, some clans suspect that certain bureaucrats have tainted the maps as well, resulting in hidden villages and false shortcuts meant to protect or expose political allies or rivals.
Regardless, all official maps are approved by the infallible Emperor himself, and pointing out inaccuracies is an act of potentially fatal rudeness. If something isn’t on an official map, it’s best to acknowledge that it doesn’t exist. To deal with these deficiencies, local lords have found it worth the investment to have their clan magistrates or spies create detailed—and proprietary—maps of their own provinces. They are very careful to keep these maps away from the eyes of any Imperial officials, lest they imply that the Imperial maps are somehow lacking.
Travel Passes
Traffic damages roads. That damage must be repaired, and regular maintenance costs money. In the Emerald Empire, this problem is addressed through a system of travel passes, which travelers obtain in exchange for a specified donation toward the upkeep of the roads they are traveling on
Shrines, temples, inns, and other businesses issue tsūkō-tegata to commoners traveling on business, pilgrims, and occasionally even samurai on the road in times of peace. These issuers may be responsible for local road maintenance or may simply collect these fees for the local lord. Literally meaning “passage wooden pass,” tsūkō-tegata are reusable wooden tab-lets inscribed with information on the route and sealed in red by the issuing party. There are no laws governing their use and thus no guarantee that magistrates or clan patrols will accept them; their authority extends only so far as a magistrate recognizes the issuer’s seal and approves of the nature of the bearer’s business.
Most traveling samurai obtain a passport, or travel papers, from their lord or the lord of the lands through which they travel. Emerald Magistrates, certain other members of the Imperial bureaucracy, clan champions and family daimyō have the authority to issue travel papers granting the bearer free permission to travel between the territories of different clans. Clan magistrates, provincial daimyō, and governors can issue only more limited passes, such as for travel to a particular location in another territory for a specific purpose, or to travel freely within their own territory. Considering the importance of travel papers, it is no surprise that lords and magistrates of a more covetous nature can make considerable profit or acquire numerous favors
Travel papers indicate the samurai’s identity, describe the clothes they wear and weaponry they carry, and specify where they are coming from and where they are going. Each time the samurai crosses a checkpoint on their route, their pass is stamped or signed so that their progress can be tracked—and so that each pass can only be used once. Toll stations often serve as check points, and in turn may be located at a way station or inn. The frequency of check points—and roving patrols—depends entirely on the whims and resources of the local lord.
In practice, some lords use travel papers as another political tool. A daimyō who wishes to prevent a troublesome guest from returning to their own master might simply withhold travel papers for the return journey—often, by referring the samurai to a subordinate who is impossible to locate or who assures the samurai that the papers will be ready “soon.”
Because horses’ hooves are more damaging to roads than human feet, their use requires special travel passes with correspondingly higher fees. Most clans issue only a limited number of such passes each year, a contributing factor to the scarcity of horses within the Empire.
Travel papers and tsūkō-tegata are most strongly and consistently enforced on the major roads that the Emperor acknowledges and that appear on official maps. Peasant tracks are too poorly maintained and often too dangerous for magistrates to bother policing. These byways are even more dangerous without a local guide—they tend to twist and meet in unexpected ways, making it easy to become lost. Finding a trust-worthy guide can be a task in itself, particularly as some enterprising bandits pose as guides, luring travelers into isolated and disorienting stretches of road before springing their trap. Many merchants and other wealthy travelers who must travel outside of the Emperor’s Road choose to hire rōnin to protect them from bandits
Forging Ahead
In desperate times, a samurai may have to stoop to forgery in order to carry out their daimyō’s commands.
Forging a set of travel papers is no great feat for a calligrapher with access to the correct inks and waxes.
Particularly brazen samurai may be able to bluff their way through an encounter with an appropriate Courtesy or Performance check. After all, it is terribly rude to insinuate that a samurai is traveling without permission
Way Stations
Way stations, also known as post stations or post towns, exist, at least in theory, for the sole purpose of supporting those who travel the Empire’s roads and rivers on official Imperial business. Imperial officials and magistrates traverse the Hantei’s domain and rest at these stations maintained for their needs. The small-est way stations provide for the basic necessities: food, rest, and shelter. The Great Clans and Minor Clans, as well as the Imperial families, maintain these stations for the Emperor.
At each way station, samurai may find porter stations, stables, inns and homes for lodging, a variety of local fare, equipment necessary for travel, and more. Local merchants, heimin, and rōnin intermingle—as much as that is possible—with clan samurai and provide a network of local knowledge impossible to tap into elsewhere. Magistrates may employ reputable rōnin as yoriki and yōjimbō at these stations, update their official maps, find entertainment, and obtain needed rest. Importantly, most way stations serve as check points and collect tolls—whether formally, or due to the proprietor’s desire to keep out the riffraff and maintain their facilities
Typically, way stations are found on routes between cities and major towns and at important intersections where several roads meet. Specialized stations provide safe harbor along high-traffic rivers. Way stations are larger than simple roadside inns and roadhouses. Their location requires them to be self-sustaining, so they may have extensive gardens, scholars or priests who can treat injury, and so forth. Many way stations keep a small garrison of guards in case of attack, but the banner of the Imperial Chrysanthemum has historically been protection enough against all but the most desperate of bandits.
Way stations may be a welcome sight to travelers with official documents, but for those without papers or passes, they represent a real danger. As much as they exist to help travelers, way stations often are also the most prominent Imperial presence in a particular area, and part of their mandate is to regulate travel. Depending on the particular station, a traveler with-out papers may be able to charm or bribe their way through, but often it is safer just to go around.
Unofficial way stations are technically illegal, but they are often tolerated for the services they provide beyond the remit of the Imperial stations. They are typically found far from the official roads, on treacherous tracks that serve as shortcuts for those in desperate hurry or alternate routes for travelers without the Emperor’s blessing. These stations naturally attract the coarser elements of humanity, often hosting gambling dens, brothels, and black markets. High social standing is no guarantee of safety or welcome at an illegal station, for the proprietors and guests are the worst sort of people: the only thing they “honor” is money.
Despite their seedy reputation, unofficial way stations are popular among rōnin, heimin, and others who are often unwelcome in proper way stations. Even honorable samurai may find themselves in need of something that only the black markets can provide, such as forged documents, opium, poisons, or other rare, dis-reputable, or illicit goods.
The Plains
Rokugan’s rolling plains can be a strong temptation to travelers. Why go out of the way by road when one can plot a course straight to one’s destination? For the riders of the Unicorn Clan, the plains are just that: a friendly shortcut when time is of the essence
Samurai of other clans avoid travel across open plains whenever possible, however, and for good reason. Though their terrain at first appears mild and easy to traverse, the plains hold many dangers. They are home to wild animals that may attack out of fear or herd instinct, and wildfires can spread quickly from a single lightning strike or careless spark. In places, the grass grows taller than a Crab bushi’s head; these areas can stretch for miles, and they are almost impossible to navigate. Indeed, the lack of good landmarks makes navigating across the plains hazardous at the best of times.
On the plains farthest from the tempering forces of civilization, the spiritual landscape can be wild and unpredictable. Areas of desecration can fester for years, and the kami there may be unaccustomed to heeding the invocations of shugenja. There are many tales of powerful spirits that dwell in the plains, old ones that are best left undisturbed. Sometimes, these dangers manifest quite literally on the doorsteps of farmers and in rural village
The roads and rivers of Rokugan are the arteries that sustain the Emerald Empire. They carry food, mineral wealth, valuables, travelers, and soldiers throughout the provinces of the Empire
Highways (Kaidō)
The history and politics of the Emerald Empire can be read in its roads. The Crab and Lion Clans favor heavily built roads to support the rapid movement of soldiers and supplies, while the great plains of the Unicorn Clan are crisscrossed by soft dirt tracks: roads created more by horse traffic than by any engineering.
The largest and most well-traveled roads in Rokugan are known collectively as the Five Highways or the Emperor’s Road. These roads stretch into the hearts of all the clan lands, facilitating commerce, communication, and even war.
Branching off of the great highways are numerous smaller paths built to enable swift travel within a particular clan’s territory. These roads are essential for samurai and lower classes alike, but they are not with-out their dangers. Bandits often lie in wait for merchant caravans, and heavy rains can turn a well-packed track into so much mud.
Travelers in Crane or Dragon territory may fall victim to more intentional dangers. The Crane build their roads with blind corners and sudden changes of direction. These slow down advancing armies and provide opportunities for the skirmishers of the Daidoji family to take larger forces by surprise before fading away to escape retaliation. The roads through the Dragon Clan’s mountainous holdings are similarly treacherous, with narrow passes and steep climbs that help compensate for the clan’s low numbers in the event of attack.
The Five Highways and major roads are dotted with toll stations and way stations where travelers can stop for the night if they cannot reach the next village. Roadhouses are simple buildings with sleeping futons, cooking firepits, and a well. It’s considered gravely dis-honorable to leave a roadhouse in disrepair, for anyone may have to seek shelter there. Most roadhouses are maintained by the nearest village or town, which they are considered to be part of. Most towns and villages are located on a road, or at least not far off from one, meaning that only the most remote of villages can safely ignore being prepared for travelers. If a road is well traveled, all the villages along it are sure to host a teahouse, though some may be larger than others.
The Emperor requires that the Great Clans maintain roads within their territory, and no clan champion or provincial daimyō would even think of shirking this duty. Nonetheless, maintenance of roads is a great drain on coffers and the heimin workforce. Consequently, most clans fulfill the Emperor’s requirements, and do no more. However, on borders between clan holdings, the roads often fail to meet Imperial standards. Clan representatives are inevitably quick to reassure Imperial surveyors that such conditions are merely a temporary state of affairs due to bandits or weather, not willful neglect by a defense-minded daimyō.
Roads and Terrain
The purpose of a road is to facilitate safe, quick travel. However, there are times when, due to neglect or sabotage, a road may be as treacherous as the surrounding terrain, or even more so.
Muddy or uneven roads may be difficult terrain. Experienced travelers know to watch the weather and prepare for roads that steal sandals and trap pack animals.
Less-traveled roads are sometimes allowed to decay precipitously. Broken cobbles can shatter axles or turn ankles, and wooden bridges soon succumb to rot. Invaded clans may even sabotage their own roads to slow an enemy advance. These stretches may be considered dangerous terrain.
The Taint of the Shadowlands is reaching ever deeper into the Empire, and defiled terrain may be found anywhere. The sort of running battle that occurs on roads can easily lead to uncremated bodies and restless ghosts.
Certain pilgrimage routes may become Hallowed terrain either through the prayers of priests and shugenja or simply through careful, honorable maintenance.
In these troubled times, roads of Imbalanced terrain are becoming more common. Particularly in Phoenix lands, the preponderance of fire kami have left long stretches of road scorched and dry, even during a rainfall.
Travel Times
Distances in Rokugan are hard to pin down. For most travelers, factors like the weather and the quality of the roads mean that travel times can vary greatly even along familiar routes
The question is more fraught for those who have access to the Emperor’s approved maps. The Imperial cartographers commissioned to map the Empire did their best, but their technology, the terrain itself, and time constraints made taking accurate measurements extremely difficult. Worse, some clans suspect that certain bureaucrats have tainted the maps as well, resulting in hidden villages and false shortcuts meant to protect or expose political allies or rivals.
Regardless, all official maps are approved by the infallible Emperor himself, and pointing out inaccuracies is an act of potentially fatal rudeness. If something isn’t on an official map, it’s best to acknowledge that it doesn’t exist. To deal with these deficiencies, local lords have found it worth the investment to have their clan magistrates or spies create detailed—and proprietary—maps of their own provinces. They are very careful to keep these maps away from the eyes of any Imperial officials, lest they imply that the Imperial maps are somehow lacking.
Travel Passes
Traffic damages roads. That damage must be repaired, and regular maintenance costs money. In the Emerald Empire, this problem is addressed through a system of travel passes, which travelers obtain in exchange for a specified donation toward the upkeep of the roads they are traveling on
Shrines, temples, inns, and other businesses issue tsūkō-tegata to commoners traveling on business, pilgrims, and occasionally even samurai on the road in times of peace. These issuers may be responsible for local road maintenance or may simply collect these fees for the local lord. Literally meaning “passage wooden pass,” tsūkō-tegata are reusable wooden tab-lets inscribed with information on the route and sealed in red by the issuing party. There are no laws governing their use and thus no guarantee that magistrates or clan patrols will accept them; their authority extends only so far as a magistrate recognizes the issuer’s seal and approves of the nature of the bearer’s business.
Most traveling samurai obtain a passport, or travel papers, from their lord or the lord of the lands through which they travel. Emerald Magistrates, certain other members of the Imperial bureaucracy, clan champions and family daimyō have the authority to issue travel papers granting the bearer free permission to travel between the territories of different clans. Clan magistrates, provincial daimyō, and governors can issue only more limited passes, such as for travel to a particular location in another territory for a specific purpose, or to travel freely within their own territory. Considering the importance of travel papers, it is no surprise that lords and magistrates of a more covetous nature can make considerable profit or acquire numerous favors
Travel papers indicate the samurai’s identity, describe the clothes they wear and weaponry they carry, and specify where they are coming from and where they are going. Each time the samurai crosses a checkpoint on their route, their pass is stamped or signed so that their progress can be tracked—and so that each pass can only be used once. Toll stations often serve as check points, and in turn may be located at a way station or inn. The frequency of check points—and roving patrols—depends entirely on the whims and resources of the local lord.
In practice, some lords use travel papers as another political tool. A daimyō who wishes to prevent a troublesome guest from returning to their own master might simply withhold travel papers for the return journey—often, by referring the samurai to a subordinate who is impossible to locate or who assures the samurai that the papers will be ready “soon.”
Because horses’ hooves are more damaging to roads than human feet, their use requires special travel passes with correspondingly higher fees. Most clans issue only a limited number of such passes each year, a contributing factor to the scarcity of horses within the Empire.
Travel papers and tsūkō-tegata are most strongly and consistently enforced on the major roads that the Emperor acknowledges and that appear on official maps. Peasant tracks are too poorly maintained and often too dangerous for magistrates to bother policing. These byways are even more dangerous without a local guide—they tend to twist and meet in unexpected ways, making it easy to become lost. Finding a trust-worthy guide can be a task in itself, particularly as some enterprising bandits pose as guides, luring travelers into isolated and disorienting stretches of road before springing their trap. Many merchants and other wealthy travelers who must travel outside of the Emperor’s Road choose to hire rōnin to protect them from bandits
Forging Ahead
In desperate times, a samurai may have to stoop to forgery in order to carry out their daimyō’s commands.
Forging a set of travel papers is no great feat for a calligrapher with access to the correct inks and waxes.
Particularly brazen samurai may be able to bluff their way through an encounter with an appropriate Courtesy or Performance check. After all, it is terribly rude to insinuate that a samurai is traveling without permission
Way Stations
Way stations, also known as post stations or post towns, exist, at least in theory, for the sole purpose of supporting those who travel the Empire’s roads and rivers on official Imperial business. Imperial officials and magistrates traverse the Hantei’s domain and rest at these stations maintained for their needs. The small-est way stations provide for the basic necessities: food, rest, and shelter. The Great Clans and Minor Clans, as well as the Imperial families, maintain these stations for the Emperor.
At each way station, samurai may find porter stations, stables, inns and homes for lodging, a variety of local fare, equipment necessary for travel, and more. Local merchants, heimin, and rōnin intermingle—as much as that is possible—with clan samurai and provide a network of local knowledge impossible to tap into elsewhere. Magistrates may employ reputable rōnin as yoriki and yōjimbō at these stations, update their official maps, find entertainment, and obtain needed rest. Importantly, most way stations serve as check points and collect tolls—whether formally, or due to the proprietor’s desire to keep out the riffraff and maintain their facilities
Typically, way stations are found on routes between cities and major towns and at important intersections where several roads meet. Specialized stations provide safe harbor along high-traffic rivers. Way stations are larger than simple roadside inns and roadhouses. Their location requires them to be self-sustaining, so they may have extensive gardens, scholars or priests who can treat injury, and so forth. Many way stations keep a small garrison of guards in case of attack, but the banner of the Imperial Chrysanthemum has historically been protection enough against all but the most desperate of bandits.
Way stations may be a welcome sight to travelers with official documents, but for those without papers or passes, they represent a real danger. As much as they exist to help travelers, way stations often are also the most prominent Imperial presence in a particular area, and part of their mandate is to regulate travel. Depending on the particular station, a traveler with-out papers may be able to charm or bribe their way through, but often it is safer just to go around.
Unofficial way stations are technically illegal, but they are often tolerated for the services they provide beyond the remit of the Imperial stations. They are typically found far from the official roads, on treacherous tracks that serve as shortcuts for those in desperate hurry or alternate routes for travelers without the Emperor’s blessing. These stations naturally attract the coarser elements of humanity, often hosting gambling dens, brothels, and black markets. High social standing is no guarantee of safety or welcome at an illegal station, for the proprietors and guests are the worst sort of people: the only thing they “honor” is money.
Despite their seedy reputation, unofficial way stations are popular among rōnin, heimin, and others who are often unwelcome in proper way stations. Even honorable samurai may find themselves in need of something that only the black markets can provide, such as forged documents, opium, poisons, or other rare, dis-reputable, or illicit goods.
The Plains
Rokugan’s rolling plains can be a strong temptation to travelers. Why go out of the way by road when one can plot a course straight to one’s destination? For the riders of the Unicorn Clan, the plains are just that: a friendly shortcut when time is of the essence
Samurai of other clans avoid travel across open plains whenever possible, however, and for good reason. Though their terrain at first appears mild and easy to traverse, the plains hold many dangers. They are home to wild animals that may attack out of fear or herd instinct, and wildfires can spread quickly from a single lightning strike or careless spark. In places, the grass grows taller than a Crab bushi’s head; these areas can stretch for miles, and they are almost impossible to navigate. Indeed, the lack of good landmarks makes navigating across the plains hazardous at the best of times.
On the plains farthest from the tempering forces of civilization, the spiritual landscape can be wild and unpredictable. Areas of desecration can fester for years, and the kami there may be unaccustomed to heeding the invocations of shugenja. There are many tales of powerful spirits that dwell in the plains, old ones that are best left undisturbed. Sometimes, these dangers manifest quite literally on the doorsteps of farmers and in rural village