Ryōwakagimi

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<i>My span of years</i> <i>Today appears</i> <i>A morning glory's hour</i> <b>—— Arakida Moritake</b> (1472 - 1549) <i>15th of August, 1541, Toda Castle, Izumo Province, Chūgoku Region</i> The last light of summer clung to the threshold, casting pale slivers across the polished wood. The scent of cedar lingered beneath the faint sweetness of incense burned earlier, now little more than a memory in the air. Lord Amago Haruhisa stood alone. His silhouette, outlined in amber, remained still, arms folded into the sleeves of his montsuki, back straight, unmoving. Yet something in his posture betrayed him. Not pride. Not joy. Something quieter. Heavier. Two infants lay swaddled nearby, their breath barely stirring the silence. Twins. A rarity. A sign. A weight. This should have been a day of certainty, a clear succession, a cause for celebration. Instead, it sat uneasy, like ink bleeding on old parchment. One child would rise to carry the name. The other... Haruhisa’s gaze held. His brows drew tight, though his face remained composed. Already, the future pressed in, still shapeless, but certain in its coming. Two sons, born of one moment. But not one fate. Behind him, the hall gave a soft creak. He didn’t turn. He knew the step. Amago Kunihisa entered without word or ceremony. The old general’s face, lined by years of war and court alike, carried no scowl today, only a quiet awareness. He paused a pace behind. For a time, neither man spoke. Then Kunihisa’s voice came, low and deliberate. “Two branches from the same root. The heavens are generous.” Haruhisa’s reply was quiet. “Or blind.” Kunihisa stepped forward, gaze falling on the sleeping children. “The gift isn’t cruel,” he said. “Only the dividing of it.” They stood in silence, the light thinning around them. Eventually, Kunihisa turned and left, his departure marked only by the hush of his steps. Haruhisa remained. He looked once more at his sons, then at the fading band of light crawling across the floor. Night was coming. [[And the world would not wait.|intro_2_yomyo]]

<i>22nd of August, 1541, Toda Castle, Izumo Province, Chūgoku Region</i> You're given your yōmyō, the child's name you will bear until the coming-of-age ceremony genpuku. What will it be? <<link "Takamaru">> <<set $yomyo = "Takamaru">> <<goto "intro_hatsumiyamairi_1">> <</link>> <<link "Yasumaro">> <<set $yomyo = "Yasumaro">> <<goto "intro_hatsumiyamairi_1">> <</link>> <<link "Kiyowaka">> <<set $yomyo = "Kiyowaka">> <<goto "intro_hatsumiyamairi_1">> <</link>> <<link "Nobumaru">> <<set $yomyo = "Nobumaru">> <<goto "intro_hatsumiyamairi_1">> <</link>> <<link "Hidemaro">> <<set $yomyo = "Hidemaro">> <<goto "intro_hatsumiyamairi_1">> <</link>> <<link "Sadamaru">> <<set $yomyo = "Sadamaru">> <<goto "intro_hatsumiyamairi_1">> <</link>> <<link "Haruwaka">> <<set $yomyo = "Haruwaka">> <<goto "intro_hatsumiyamairi_1">> <</link>> <<link "Mitsumaru">> <<set $yomyo = "Mitsumaru">> <<goto "intro_hatsumiyamairi_1">> <</link>> <<link "Shigemaro">> <<set $yomyo = "Shigemaro">> <<goto "intro_hatsumiyamairi_1">> <</link>> <<link "Yukiwaka">> <<set $yomyo = "Yukiwaka">> <<goto "intro_hatsumiyamairi_1">> <</link>> <<link "Tomomaru">> <<set $yomyo = "Tomomaru">> <<goto "intro_hatsumiyamairi_1">> <</link>> <<link "Norimaro">> <<set $yomyo = "Norimaro">> <<goto "intro_hatsumiyamairi_1">> <</link>> <<link "Michiwaka">> <<set $yomyo = "Michiwaka">> <<goto "intro_hatsumiyamairi_1">> <</link>>

<i>15th of September, 1541, Izumo-Taisha shrine, Izumo Province, Chūgoku Region</i> Hatsumiyamairi The morning air is crisp, laden with the scent of pine and incense. Sunlight filters gently through the tall cryptomeria trees as your family approaches the shrine. The tiled roof of the honden glints in the soft light, and the long stone stairway behind you now feels like a passage through time itself. Your mother holds you close, swathed in a silk blanket embroidered with the Amago mon, four interlocked knots, a symbol of enduring. Her steps are slow and reverent as she approaches the shrine’s inner sanctum. Just ahead, your father bows deeply before the attending kannushi, offering a sprig of sakaki bound with shide. The priest accepts the offering with grace, then turns toward your mother. She offers you, gently and with visible emotion, to the priest. He receives you with care, his movements practiced and deliberate. The gathered witnesses, retainers, shrine maidens, and a handful of elders, bow their heads as the ceremony begins. The priest lifts his voice in solemn norito. <i>“O great Ōkuninushi-no-Kami, guardian of Izumo and ruler of unseen realms, we humbly stand within your sacred embrace. With hearts bowed low and spirits raised in gratitude, we present to you this child, newly born into the world of men.” “Blessed be the health of the mother and the strength of this child. We recognize the miracle of life in troubled times and give thanks for this sacred gift.” “We offer you the name of this boy, $yomyo, a light newly kindled upon the path of his ancestors. May your divine gaze follow him always, may your strength become his strength, and your wisdom shape his soul.” “Protect him, Ōkuninushi, from illness, misfortune, and the cruelty of a world often ruled by swords and shadows. Grant him clarity, compassion, and harmony in all things, that he may walk the way of wa and serve with honor.” “Extend your favor also to those gathered here, to his father, §Saburoshirō§(The tsūshō or "informal name" of Amago Haruhisa.), to his mother, who bore him, and to the clan whose legacy he inherits. Let peace dwell in our hearts and purpose guide our steps.” “And to all the kami of this land, we offer reverence, that our deeds may echo with righteousness in your eternal halls.”</i> Once the prayers have ended, the priest bows again, returning you to your mother’s arms with a solemn blessing. The ritual is repeated for your brother, each motion mirrored with sacred precision. Your parents watch in perfect silence. Your mother’s eyes shimmer; your father’s hands are clasped, knuckles white. *[[Something stirs within you, the hush, the chants, the sacred scent, it all leaves a mark.|choice_hatsumiyamairi_1_trad]] *[[You don’t understand the appeal. It feels distant, abstract.|choice_hatsumiyamairi_1_ecc]]

[[Character Stats|ui-stats]] [[Relationships|ui-relationships]] [[World Status|ui-world]]

<<nobr>> <<if $yomyo != "">> You are Amago $yomyo<<if $nanori != "">>, $nanori<</if>>, son of Amago Haruhisa. <<else>> You are a son of the Amago clan. <</if>> <div class="spacer"></div> You are $age year<<if $age != 1>>s<</if>> old. <div class="spacer"></div> <<if $horimono != "">> You carry a tanto knife engraved with the horimono: <div class="spacer"></div> <i>$horimono</i> <div class="spacer"></div> <</if>> <<if $notoriety > 90>> A famous noh play, titled <span class="lore" data-lore="Mists of Izumo, a famous Noh play centred around you and your exploits.">Kiri no Izumo</span> is making waves in Kyoto. <<elseif $notoriety > 80>> All across Japan your exploits are the topic of conversation. <<elseif $notoriety > 70>> Your names are on the lips of many in Kyoto, people speculate wildly of you. <<elseif $notoriety > 60>> In the capital of Kyoto, rumours of your name circulate. <<elseif $notoriety > 50>> You are widely talked about in the Chūgoku region. <<elseif $notoriety > 40>> Stories are told about you by the people in your domain, people outside your domain also mention you in passing. <<elseif $notoriety > 30>> You are widely talked about by people in your domain. <<elseif $notoriety > 10>> You are talked about in passing by people in your domain. <<elseif $notoriety > 0>> You are talked about with some regard by retainers close to the family. <<else>> Your existence is known by people in your domain. <</if>> <div class="spacer"></div> <b>PERSONALITY</b> <div class="spacer"></div> <<set _traits = []>> <<if $traditional > 0>> <<set _traits.push("traditional")>> <<elseif $traditional < 0>> <<set _traits.push("eccentric")>> <</if>> <<if $egocentric > 0>> <<set _traits.push("egocentric")>> <<elseif $egocentric < 0>> <<set _traits.push("humble")>> <</if>> <<if $daring > 0>> <<set _traits.push("daring")>> <<elseif $daring < 0>> <<set _traits.push("cautious")>> <</if>> <<if $discipline > 0>> <<set _traits.push("disciplined")>> <<elseif $discipline < 0>> <<set _traits.push("impulsive")>> <</if>> <<if $honor > 0>> <<set _traits.push("honorable")>> <<elseif $honor < 0>> <<set _traits.push("disreputable")>> <</if>> <<if _traits.length > 0>> You are known as a <<for _i to 0; _i < _traits.length; _i++>> <<print _traits[_i]>><<if _i == _traits.length - 2>> and <<elseif _i < _traits.length - 2>>, <</if>> <</for>> young lord. <<else>> You are yet to earn a reputation. <</if>> <div class="spacer"></div> <b>SKILLS</b> <div class="spacer"></div> <<set _aptitudes1 = []>>  <<set _aptitudes2 = []>>  /* Wisdom */ <<if $wisdom >= 8>> <<set _aptitudes1.push("impressive in your knowledge of the world")>> <<elseif $wisdom >= 5>> <<set _aptitudes1.push("knowledgeable about the world and the people in it")>> <<elseif $wisdom >= 2>> <<set _aptitudes1.push("average in your insight of the world")>> <<else>> <<set _aptitudes1.push("lacking in your understanding of the world")>> <</if>> /* Physical */ <<if $physical >= 8>> <<set _aptitudes1.push("notably built with a formidable physique")>> <<elseif $physical >= 5>> <<set _aptitudes1.push("stronglly built with a noticeable physique")>> <<elseif $physical >= 2>> <<set _aptitudes1.push("averagely built")>> <<else>> <<set _aptitudes1.push("physically stringy")>> <</if>> /* Charisma */ <<if $charisma >= 8>> <<set _aptitudes1.push("in possession of a commanding presence")>> <<elseif $charisma >= 5>> <<set _aptitudes1.push("notably charismatic")>> <<elseif $charisma >= 2>> <<set _aptitudes1.push("some degree of charming")>> <<else>> <<set _aptitudes1.push("awkward in your social grace")>> <</if>> /* Tactics */ <<if $tactics >= 8>> <<set _aptitudes2.push("brilliant in tactics")>> <<elseif $tactics >= 5>> <<set _aptitudes2.push("skillful in tactics")>> <<elseif $tactics >= 2>> <<set _aptitudes2.push("developing tactical sense")>> <<else>> <<set _aptitudes2.push("not really grasping tactics")>> <</if>> /* Martial */ <<if $martial >= 8>> <<set _aptitudes2.push("deadly in martial combat")>> <<elseif $martial >= 5>> <<set _aptitudes2.push("capable with weapons")>> <<elseif $martial >= 2>> <<set _aptitudes2.push("somewhat martially proficient")>> <<else>> <<set _aptitudes2.push("poor in martial skills")>> <</if>> /* Animal Handling */ <<if $animal >= 8>> <<set _aptitudes2.push("naturally bonded with animals")>> <<elseif $animal >= 5>> <<set _aptitudes2.push("good with animals")>> <<elseif $animal >= 2>> <<set _aptitudes2.push("basic in your animal handling ability")>> <<else>> <<set _aptitudes2.push("bonding poorly with animals")>> <</if>> /* Social Intelligence */ <<if $social >= 8>> <<set _aptitudes2.push("remarkably social intuitive")>> <<elseif $social >= 5>> <<set _aptitudes2.push("socially perceptive")>> <<elseif $social >= 2>> <<set _aptitudes2.push("modestly observant")>> <<else>> <<set _aptitudes2.push("socially inept")>> <</if>>   <<set _traitString = "You are " + _aptitudes1.join(", ").replace(/, ([^,]*)$/, " and $1") + "." >> <<print _traitString>> <<if _aptitudes2.length > 0>> <div class="spacer"></div> <<set _skillString = "You are " + _aptitudes2.join(", ").replace(/, ([^,]*)$/, " and $1") + "." >> <<print _skillString>> <</if>> <div class="spacer"></div> <<link "Return">><<goto $lastPassage>><</link>> <</nobr>>

<<link "Return">><<goto $lastPassage>><</link>>

:: StoryInit [script] // Character information <<set $yomyo = "">> <<set $nanori = "">> <<set $age = 0>> <<set $notoriety = 0>> <<set $horimono = "">> // Character attributes <<set $traditional = 0>> <<set $egocentric = 0>> <<set $daring = 0>> <<set $discipline = 0>> <<set $honor = 0>> // Character skills <<set $wisdom = 0>> <<set $physical = 0>> <<set $charisma = 0>> <<set $tactics = 0>> <<set $martial = 0>> <<set $animal = 0>> <<set $social = 0>> // Relationships <<set $father_rel = 60>> <<set $brother_rel = 50>> <<set $katsu_rel = 40>> <<set $tomoe_rel = 30>> <<set $maria_rel = 20>> // Romance <<set $tomoe_rom = 0>> <<set $maria_rom = 0>> // Story state variables <<set $didProgFarm = false>> <<set $favouriteFood = "">> <<set $wouldMurderFamily = false>> <<set $focus = "">> <<set $portugalTrade = false>> // Auto-jump to intro <<goto "start">>

Tale of Two Princes is an epic historical fiction about the two sons of a Daimyo (warlord) clan set to the backdrop of the Japanese "Sengoku Jidai" or the "Warring States Period". Taking inspiration from classic Warring States stories like Akira Kurosawa's "Ran" as well as contemporary western stories like George R.R Martins "A Song of Ice and Fire", "Tale of Two Princes" seek to provide an epic story of political intrigue, betrayal, classical japanese warfare, as well as old japanese culture and its issues with classism. While a historical fiction with unrealistic elements for the sake of storytelling, this book seeks to be as era-appropriate as possible and provide an immersive retelling of Samurai life in Sengoku era Japan. In the book you will be able to: - Customize your character and their personality - Play as your character as they grow up during the tumultuous Sengoku Period - Immerse yourself in the life of a Samurai - Develop your skills and person - Partake in massive battles - Grow your clan to prominence or watch it turn into dust The future of your clan lies in your abilities as a military commander, as a diplomat, and as a visionary. Expect the unexpected or die surprised, you decide. [[View content warnings|start_cw]] [[Commentary on Japanese terms (recommended read)|start_japanese]] [[Begin|intro_1]]

A Tale of Two Princes seeks to provide a nuanced and grounded retelling of Sengoku period japan and allow you to experience the Samurai fantasy, while still reminding you why it's good that the period is in the past. This game contains the following potentially offputting, disturbing, or triggering content: * Detailed description of violence, blood, and gore of humanized characters * Misogyny, including social immobility as well as an impaired freedom of choice (optionally by the player character) * Classism, including ridiculing and taking advantage of people who are weaker or poorer (optionally by the player character) [[Return|start]]

<b>COMMENTARY ON JAPANESE TERMS</b> <b>PART 1/3: The Definition of Samurai</b> After countless hours spent browsing forums and reading historical research and documents, the conclusion to be drawn is that old Japanese history is, frankly, rather confusing. As such, I feel the need to explain some basic concepts to readers unfamiliar with the period, and defend some creative liberties taken by me to those who are more historically versed. The term "samurai", used in modern times almost interchangeably with “warrior nobility,” was a much more chaotic and fluid concept during the period depicted in this book. Many are inclined to draw parallels to European feudal society and its knights, but the reality is more complicated. Japan didn’t initially have a true feudal system in the European sense. Instead, it developed a Chinese-inspired bureaucratic structure, where a central authority, either the Imperial Court or later the shogunate (bakufu), appointed provincial governors. These governors, known by terms like shugo, shugodai, and jitō (you might recognize jitō if you’ve played Ghost of Tsushima), were primarily tax administrators and did not technically own the land they governed. Titles like gokenin referred to retainers who served the shogunate directly, and for much of the early period, this service was the key requirement for being considered “samurai.” In fact, even palace attendants, who “served” the court, were, in the broad sense of the term, saburai (the original pronunciation), meaning those who wait upon or serve. This book, however, takes place during the Sengoku period (or “Warring States period”), a time when many of these regional governors became de facto independent warlords, bending rules and assuming power as they pleased. As a consequence, the definition of who was or wasn’t a samurai became increasingly muddled. Titles were self-assumed, and local warlords often granted samurai status to anyone who could fight and serve. You’ll also see other period terms like bushi/buke, jizamurai, zōhyō, and gokenin. Unfortunately, historical sources are inconsistent, and the differences between these roles vary by time and place. To keep things readable and coherent, I’ve adopted a more rigid but historically-inspired hierarchy for the purposes of this story. <b>BUKE (Warrior Class)</b> <i>Samurai / Warrior Nobility</i> *Daimyō – Feudal warlords who control domains of their own. *Hatamoto – High-ranking samurai retainers and bannermen who serve closely under a daimyō. *Jizamurai – Rural landowning samurai who operate somewhat independently, often governing local villages or fortresses. *Regular Samurai – Lower-ranking retainers within a daimyō’s service, still considered warrior nobility. <i>Non-Samurai Warriors</i> *Ashigaru – Professional light foot soldiers. These formed the bulk of most Sengoku armies. Often recruited from peasant stock but trained and employed long-term. <b>NON-BUKE (Non-Warrior Class)</b> *Zōhyō – Conscripted or semi-professional peasant soldiers, often used for garrisons, supply duties, or sheer numbers. They had the lowest status in military service and were not part of the buke. [[Part 2|start_japanese_2]]

<b>COMMENTARY ON JAPANESE TERMS</b> <b>PART 2/3: Sengoku-era Naming Conventions</b> Here’s where it gets really confusing. For many of us, names are a core part of our identity, something stable, rarely changed unless you’re undergoing a major personal transformation. But in feudal Japan, names functioned quite differently. They were often treated more like titles, reflecting your current status, role, or affiliations, rather than an immutable aspect of who you are. Take Tokugawa Ieyasu, the third of Japan’s three great unifiers, for example. Over the course of his life, he used the following names: *Matsudaira Takechiyo (his childhood name, or yōmyō) *Matsudaira Motonobu *Matsudaira Motoyasu *Matsudaira Ieyasu *and finally, Tokugawa Ieyasu While this is an extreme example (most people didn’t change names quite this much, especially not their clan name or myōji), it was common for people to change their given name (imina, sometimes referred to as a "true name" or even a "taboo name") at least once in their life, often tied to major life events such as adulthood, vassalage, promotion, or religious devotion. Ieyasu's changes, for instance, reflect both his entry into vassalage under the Imagawa clan and his departure from their control. Similarly, the main character’s father in this book, Amago Haruhisa, was originally known as Amago Akihisa until 1541, which is also the main character’s birth year (so you won’t need to worry about any mid-story name changes for him!). Haruhisa changed his name after being granted a character from the name of the shogun, Ashikaga Yoshiharu, in a process known as "henki chōdai", literally, "receiving a character," a sign of political favor and prestige. To complicate things further, people were rarely addressed by their given name, as doing so was considered rude or overly familiar. Instead, they were usually called by: *Their title (e.g. Izumo-no-Kami, literally "protector of Izumo", the formal titulation of Shogunate-appointed Shugo governors) *Their myōji (e.g Amago-dono for Amago Haruhisa) *Their common-use name, or tsūshō, a more informal name often based on birth order (Tarō, Jirō, etc.), personal qualities, or accomplishments. Even these tsūshō could change depending on achievements, personal reinvention, or even aesthetics. Ultimately, this is a game, and to spare you unnecessary confusion, I’ll be keeping name changes to a minimum. When a historical name change is relevant, I’ll make sure it’s explained clearly as the story progresses. In regards to tsūshō, I'll be using annotations to clarify who is being referred to, more on annotations in the end of this commentary. [[Part 3|start_japanese_3]]

<b>COMMENTARY ON JAPANESE TERMS</b> <b>PART 3/3: Honorifics</b> Honorific suffixes in Japanese are used to express both the relationship you have with someone and the level of respect you wish to show. They serve a similar function to how we might use “Sir” for superiors or “Mr.” in formal contexts, but Japanese honorifics are generally more varied, hierarchical, and precise. When you see a dash followed by a term after someone’s name, like Amago-dono, that’s an example of an honorific. These suffixes communicate nuances such as social status, familiarity, seniority, or deference, and were especially important in the structured social world of historical Japan. I'll be including hover annotations for these honorifics throughout the text to help clarify their meaning and usage, especially for readers unfamiliar with Japanese titles. (More on how annotations work in the next and final section.) [[End|start_japanese_end]]

<b>COMMENTARY ON JAPANESE TERMS</b> <b>FINAL NOTES</b> Feudal-period Japan is, for most readers, a largely unfamiliar world, one filled with deep, nuanced, and, admittedly, sometimes confusing traditions. In an effort to stay culturally respectful and accurate, and perhaps give readers an opportunity to learn about a rich but often misrepresented era, I’ll be using hover annotations to explain key terms and concepts, rather than trying to forcibly translate or strip away cultural context. I'm sure you've come across several already just in this commentary, but in case you didn't know how they've worked I've provided an example below: <span class="lore" data-lore="This is an example of an annotation">Here</span> is an example of an annotation. If you hover over the word here, you’ll see a panel with additional context or explanation. This way, casual readers won't be overwhelmed, while those interested in historical depth can engage more fully with the material. A final disclaimer: While the story begins in a broadly historical setting and is deeply inspired by real events, people, and customs, it takes significant creative liberties. These include changes to: *the sequence of events, *the identities and roles of historical figures, *dialogue, and in many cases, *the very existence of certain characters. This is partly due to the scarcity of reliable historical records, but also out of narrative necessity. Please take the events portrayed with a grain of salt, this is a fictionalized account meant to both entertain and inspire curiosity about real history. Thank you for taking the time to read this short write-up on cultural context, and I sincerely hope you enjoy the game! [[Begin|intro_1]]

montsuki - A formal dress, similar to the modern kimono, bearing family crests, traditionally worn by samurai and nobles for ceremonial occasions. yōmyō - A childhood name given to samurai children before receiving their adult name in a coming-of-age ceremony. genpuku - A coming-of-age ceremony for boys, marking their transition to adulthood and often accompanied by a name change and adoption of adult clothing. Hatsumiyamairi - A Shinto rite where a newborn is taken to a shrine for their first blessing and introduction to the kami. honden - The main sanctuary of a Shinto shrine where the enshrined kami is believed to reside. mon - A family symbol used to identify individuals or clans, often displayed on clothing, armor, and banners. kannushi - A Shinto priest responsible for performing rituals and maintaining the shrine dedicated to the kami. sakaki - A sacred evergreen tree used in Shinto rituals as offerings or to mark holy spaces. shide - Zigzag-shaped paper streamers used in Shinto rituals to ward off evil and mark sacred areas. Ōkuninushi - A major Shinto deity of nation-building, medicine, and matchmaking, often associated with Izumo Shrine wa - The concept of harmony and peaceful unity, considered a foundational value in Japanese society and culture. kami - The spirits or deities in Shinto believed to inhabit natural phenomena, objects, and revered ancestors. shugodai - Deputies appointed by a shugo (military governor) to administer a province on their behalf during the feudal era since the shugo was often busy in the capital. shugo - Military governors appointed by the shogunate to oversee provinces, maintain order, and supervise local samurai. sanchū palace - The residence and administrative center of the Amago clan. gassan - Mount Gassan in Dewa Province, a sacred peak and the location of Toda Castle. wakagimi - Respectful term used to refer to the son or young heir of a lord or noble family. botchan - A polite or affectionate term for a young boy, often used to refer to the son of someone of higher status. dono - An honorific suffix conveying respect, traditionally used for samurai or nobles, roughly meaning “sir” or “master.” sama - A highly respectful honorific suffix used to address someone of significantly higher status or to show deep respect and politeness. hatamoto - Elite samurai retainers who served directly under a daimyō, often acting as his personal guard, bannermen, or trusted lieutenants. tenshu - The central keep or main tower of a Japanese castle, symbolizing the lord’s authority and serving as a final defensive stronghold. senjō enclosure - A battlefield enclosure or bailey within Toda Castle, designed to stage troops and coordinate defense during a siege. oyakata - A respectful title meaning "lord" or "master," often used to address daimyō of ones own clan, or the head of a warrior family. wakagimi - A respectful term for the young heir or son of a noble or samurai lord. hananodan - Refers to the "Flower Terrace", the homes of Amago samurai living in Toda Castle. haori - A traditional hip or thigh-length, open-front, jacket worn over armour or regular clothing to display family mon's or rank. tono - A respectful form of address meaning "lord" or "master," commonly used for samurai, daimyō, or other high-ranking individuals. bushi - A general term for members of the warrior class in feudal Japan, including samurai and other military retainers. buke - A general term for members of the warrior class in feudal Japan, including samurai and other military retainers. saya - The scabbard or sheath used to encase and protect a Japanese sword or dagger, typically made of lacquered wood. hachiman - The Shinto god of war and divine protector of warriors, especially revered by samurai clans. tatami - Traditional Japanese floor mats made from woven straw and cloth edges, commonly used to cover floors in rooms and halls. Izumo no Kami - Literally "Protector of Izumo", the title of a court-appointed provincial governor (shugo). kabuto - A Japanese helmet worn by samurai as part of their armor, designed to protect the head and sometimes adorned with crests or horns. shingūtō - A powerful faction within the Amago clan during the Sengoku period, descended from Amago Kunihisa and known for its military influence, the name comes from the town Shingū which Kunihisa resides in. yari - A Japanese spear with bladed crossguards used by samurai and foot soldiers, the melee weapon of choice in Sengoku period warfare. ashigaru - Professional foot soldiers, often recruited from the peasantry and led by a samurai commander, who formed the backbone of Sengoku-period armies. oji - "Uncle" in Japanese. ue - An honorific term meaning "above" or "upper," used to show deep respect when referring to someone of higher status, such as a lord or parent. Ōhiroma - The grand audience hall in a Japanese castle or residence, used for formal gatherings, ceremonies, and receiving important guests. kamioki - A coming-of-age ceremony in which a child, typically around age three, is allowed to begin growing out their hair, marking a transition from infancy in traditional Japanese culture. shōji - Traditional Japanese sliding panels made of a wooden frame and translucent paper, used as doors or room dividers to let in light while maintaining privacy. kosode - A traditional Japanese garment with small sleeve openings, the predecessor of the modern kimono. domo - Suffix used in archaic or formal Japanese to pluralize or humbly refer to a group, often with a slightly humble or inferior nuance.

<<set $traditional += 10>> <<goto "intro_hatsumiyamairi_2">>

<<set $traditional -= 10>> <<goto "intro_hatsumiyamairi_2">>

To your father’s right, beneath the cedar awning, sits a man draped in layered robes, Amago Tsunehisa, your great-grandfather. His once-imposing frame has withered, shoulders bowed beneath the weight of years. But his eyes, dark and sharp, glint with something undimmed. As he watches the ceremony unfold, there is a strange gleam in his gaze. Not tears, not pride exactly… something older. The look of a man seeing the end of his line and its beginning, all at once. He says nothing. He doesn’t need to. By winter’s close, Tsunehisa would be gone. The man who carved the Amago clan from a shugodai banner into a domain feared across Chūgoku would take his final breath. You, of course, would remember none of this. But those who did would speak of how he stayed long enough to see the next generation born. Long enough to watch the wheel turn once more. [[8 months later.|intro_siege_1]]

<i>21st of June, 1542, Toda Castle, Izumo Province, Chūgoku Region</i> The walls of Toda Castle held their breath. Footsteps echoed through lacquered corridors, the floorboards creaking under the weight of armored men. Ashigaru moved quickly, their passage marked by the soft clatter of steel. Voices, low and clipped, passed between the shadows. Banners were raised in haste along the wind-swept battlements. You were barely a year old, but even then, you felt it, that hush before the break. Cradled in your mother’s arms, your small hands clung to the folds of her kosode, eyes wide without knowing why. The Sanchū Palace, once filled with ritual and song, had been stripped to its frame. Tatami rolled away. Weapons leaned where calligraphy once hung. Maps stretched across the low tables, weighed by inkstones and sheathed blades. At the center sat your father, Amago Haruhisa, flanked by his oldest retainers. Their voices stayed low, gestures sharp, words lost to you, but the room spoke in other ways: stiff shoulders, taut silences, eyes that did not drift from the lines of ink and terrain. Outside, the world had narrowed. The Ouchi had come. Across the far hills, pale banners flickered in the wind, white silk bearing the mon of Ouchi Yoshitaka, and among them, the three stars of Mori Motonari. Their camps had spread across the slopes beyond Gassan-Toda, past the river and the town below. The ridgelines were already theirs. Haruhisa could see them in his mind: a tide of lacquered armor descending the paths, voices rising with each step, calling for the fall of rival lords. His hachimaki clung damp to his brow, not just from the heat. “We hold here,” he had told Kunihisa the night before. “Or we disappear.” When your mother stepped into the courtyard, the light caught the watchmen on the walls. Rows of archers stood silent, quivers full, gazes fixed beyond the hills. No one spoke. Only the creak of bowstrings answered the wind. She held you tighter as the scent shifted, pine smoke, and something else: the faint, dry tang of distant fires. Below, the town had gone quiet. Traders shuttered their stalls. Children were kept indoors. From temple porches came the hush of prayer, names whispered to the kami, to Hachiman, to gods who did not answer quickly. Above them all, in the tenshu where your family now slept, silence had settled deep into the floorboards. You would not remember this summer. But something in you did. [[You cry|intro_siege_2]]

<i>23rd of August, 1542, Toda Castle, Izumo Province, Chūgoku Region</i> "Botchan, this way now! Come to me!" The soft orange glow of oil lamps flickered against lacquered armor, deep blue overlaid with threads of violet. The man kneeling before you grinned widely, his arms open in welcome, voice echoing gently in the dim corridor. He was young, full of life, laughing as he beckoned you forward. *[[You take a few wobbly steps toward him.|choice_intro_siege_2_disc]] *[[You stay where you are.|choice_intro_siege_2_undisc]]

<<set $discipline += 10>> You had only just begun to walk on your own less than a moon ago and your steps were unsure, tiny feet padding softly across the tatami. Still, you moved forward, and when you reached him, the man scooped you up in a single, warm motion. Up close, his face revealed itself clearly: bright-eyed, flushed with youth, and utterly untested. An older you might’ve called him green. “You’re a bold one, aren’t you?” he chuckled, adjusting your weight in his arms. <<include "intro_siege_3">>

<<set $discipline -= 10>> Despite having learned to walk only weeks ago, you remain firmly rooted, curious but unmoving. The man sighed with playful exasperation and stepped forward, hoisting you up with care. “You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?” In the warm lamplight, his face came into view, smiling, cheerful, and full of a youthful confidence that time would no doubt temper. <<include "intro_siege_3">>

Once you were nestled in his arms, he spoke again, voice soft and coaxing. “I’m Mitsuyuki. Mitsu–yuki. But to you, I am Yamanaka-dono.” He tilted his head, eyes expectant. “Can you say that? Yamanaka-dono?” *[[Yama...yamanaka-dono.|choice_1_intro_siege_3]] *[[Yama...yamanaka.|choice_2_intro_siege_3]] *[[Mitsu...mitsuyuki.|choice_3_intro_siege_3]]

His face lit up like a summer lantern. “Clever, too.” <<include "intro_siege_4">>

He grinned. “That’s close enough. You’ll get it soon, botchan.” <<include "intro_siege_4">>

His grin only widened. “That’s fine, that’s fine. You’ll learn in time.” <<include "intro_siege_4">>

As the laughter faded, another figure emerged from the corridor, the faint clink of armor preceding a man in brown-lacquered plates, laced with odoshi cords of yellow. The mood shifted. Morikawa Tomonari, head of his clan and your father’s most trusted hatamoto, bowed quickly and spoke low. “Yamanaka-sama, the oyakata-sama requests your presence. He’s moved to the senjō kuruwa for inspection. He asks that the wakagimi-sama be brought as well.” Mitsuyuki’s expression changed. The moment passed without a word. He bowed once and turned to go. Outside, the night air was thin, the wind sharp against the skin. The castle grounds stretched below, familiar paths now brimming with purpose. Lanterns lined the narrow trails that wound down the mountainside. From somewhere below came the steady echo of marching feet. Toda Castle was no mere residence. It rose from the mountain itself, built into its bones, ringed by forest and cliff. The moat below shimmered in the dark, silver in the moonlight as it curled around the outer walls. Halfway up the slope, the Sanchū Palace slept beneath pine and tile. Above it, the tenshu watched from the peak, silent and still. But that was not your destination. Your path led down, to the senjō kuruwa, a flattened ridge near the western slope, where men gathered to study the land and speak of war. You were too young to name what you felt. But the wind carried it just the same, tight in your chest, cold along your neck. The enemy was near. And your father wanted you to [[see.|intro_siege_5]]

As you passed through the hananodan, your eyes drifted to the gardens beyond the hatamoto residences. Chrysanthemums, plum blossoms, wild lilies, each bloom carefully tended, vivid against the hush that gripped the mountain. These were the homes of the Amago clan’s oldest retainers. Men whose bloodlines ran with yours. Beyond the courtyards, the path curved sharply. The trees fell away. And then the land opened. You stepped onto the cliffs of the senjō enclosure, the battlefield enclosure, where the mountain dropped steeply into the valley below. Before you stretched the spine of Izumo: ridge after ridge rolling into the haze, green folds like the backs of sleeping giants. At the foot of Mount Gassan, the castle town lay still, far below. You could not hear its people, but something in the silence pressed upward through the stone. The moat glimmered faintly, drawn like a blade around the base of the stronghold. And there, beside the battlement, stood your father. Amago Haruhisa. Izumo no Kami. The indigo of his armor deepened in the shadow of his yellow haori, the clan’s four-eyed knot embroidered across the back. He spoke in a low voice to a samurai at his side, pointing now and then to the distant ridgelines. Around him stood his guard, unmoving. The tension that had followed you down the slope began to fade. Nothing had changed, but in his presence, the weight sat differently. Mitsuyuki lowered you gently to the stones. Then stepped forward and bowed low. “Tono-sama.” Haruhisa did not turn. “Yamanaka-dono,” he said quietly. “Come.” Mitsuyuki moved to stand beside him. Haruhisa raised one hand, gesturing toward the southern hills. “Fifty thousand,” he said. “Ten thousand samurai. That’s the estimate. The Ouchi have set camp on our land, eating our grain, drinking from our rivers.” His voice stayed level, though something beneath it curled, quiet and sharp. “We could hold Toda against twice that number,” he said. “With a tenth of what they bring. Fifteen thousand. Three thousand samurai. All forged in the mountains of Izumo, harder than the iron they carry.” The name he spoke next came low. Bitter. <i>[[Yoshitaka.|intro_siege_6]]</i>

The name dragged across his tongue without honorific. “That coward wouldn’t last a night on these heights.” He drew in a breath, slow and sharp. “But it’s not enough. Not this time.” He turned fully to Mitsuyuki. “The harvest is near. Our stores won’t hold. We can weather one year, maybe two, but not three. And they know it.” Mitsuyuki straightened. “Tono-sama… do you mean to… lead us to battle?” The words hung in the air too long. Realizing his misstep, Mitsuyuki bowed low, forehead to stone. Haruhisa’s voice came flat and firm. “Stand up, Yamanaka-dono. I didn’t summon you for verse.” He waited. Mitsuyuki rose, slowly. “Your father rode for me when I was younger than you,” Haruhisa said. “Never once failed. He told me you were the fastest rider in Izumo.” “…Yes, tono,” Mitsuyuki said, measured. Haruhisa met his gaze. “Then prove it. Ride harder than you ever have. Break the siege. Go south, to Aki. Find Kikkawa-dono. Tell him: Spring has come early.” Mitsuyuki blinked. “Break the siege?” “You heard me. Take three samurai from the hatamoto with you. Hanabusa. Kageyama. Kazaguruma. Leave tonight.” There was a pause. Then Mitsuyuki’s hand moved to his saya, fingers tightening on the lacquered scabbard. He bowed again, deeper this time, then turned and strode down the stone path, his figure swallowed quickly by the mist. You looked up at your father. He hadn’t moved. His eyes remained on the southern ridges, where pale banners had begun to rise, [[quiet and steady in the wind.|intro_siege_7]]

Mitsuyuki’s footsteps faded down the path, and for a long moment, your father remained still, eyes fixed on the distant ridges as if searching for something beyond the horizon. Then, quietly, he turned to you. His armor creaked faintly as he bent down and lifted you into his arms. The iron was cold against your cheek, carrying the scent of oil and ash. He raised a hand, pointing toward the mountains. Small white flecks moved slowly along the ridgelines. “Look, $yomyo,” he said, voice low. “Beyond those peaks are men who would see us fall. They march beneath silk banners, thinking the mountain will bend to their pride.” He held you closer. “They don’t understand. The mountain doesn’t bow.” You followed his gesture. The ranges stood silent, vast, unmoving. Shadows moved in their folds, like a breath held too long. “Someday,” he said, “you’ll know what it is to stand at these walls. To feel the wind before the storm breaks.” He was quiet for a moment. “Strength will come. But learn to see clearly. The sword weighs less than the choice that draws it.” He knelt, slowly, so your eyes met. His expression had softened, just a little. “Tsunehisa’s blood is in you,” he said. “You were not born into peace.” A pause. Then, softer: “Stay close to your mother. Listen to her voice when mine is no longer there.” The wind stirred the yellow sash of his haori as he stood. He didn’t speak again. But something of that moment settled in you, quiet, and lasting. *[[Gaze up at your father with admiration.|choice_1_intro_siege_7]] *[[Nod solemnly, absorbing the gravity of his words.|choice_2_intro_siege_7]] *[[Reach out and touch his face, trying to comfort him.|choice_3_intro_siege_7]] *[[Look away, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity.|choice_4_intro_siege_7]]

<<set $traditional += 5>> <<set $honor += 5>> <<set $father_rel += 5>> You look up at your father, your eyes wide with admiration. Even at such a young age, you feel a sense of pride in being part of something greater. "Yes, father," you babble, though the words are not yet clear. Your father smiles, a rare softness in his stern demeanor. "Good. Remember this moment, $yomyo" <<include "intro_siege_8">>

<<set $discipline += 5>> <<set $daring += 5>> <<set $father_rel += 5>> You nod solemnly, trying to absorb the gravity of his words. Though you don't fully understand, you feel the seriousness in his tone and the weight of the responsibility he speaks of. "Good," your father says approvingly. "You will grow to understand." <<include "intro_siege_8">>

<<set $egocentric -= 5>> <<set $honor += 5>> <<set $father_rel -= 5>> You reach out and touch your father's face, trying to comfort him. Even though you are young, you can sense his burden and wish to ease it. He frowns, pulling back slightly. "Comfort is for the weak, ${yomyo}-kun. You must be strong and unyielding. Save your kindness for those who deserve it." <<include "intro_siege_8">>

<<set $traditional -= 5>> <<set $daring -= 5>> <<set $father_rel -= 5>> You look away, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of his words and the situation. The weight of what he says is too much for you to process. Your father's grip tightens, his tone sharp. "Face your fears, $yomyo. Never look away from what must be done. Weakness has no place in our family." <<include "intro_siege_8">>

He stood, his armor clinking softly. “Come,” he said. “There’s work ahead.” He took your hand, and together you began the walk back, through the quiet forest, past the hananodan, and along the winding path toward Sanchū Palace. Your father moved with purpose, each step sure and measured. You matched his pace as best you could, your smaller strides catching up, again and again. And though you didn’t yet understand, something in his grip [[stayed with you.|intro_siege_9]]

<i>24th of March, 1543. Toda Castle, Izumo Province, Chūgoku Region</i> The breath of early spring drifted through the open shutters, carrying the last chill of winter on its back. Below, the castle town stirred beneath a sky of pale blue and wind-polished clouds. On the slopes of Mount Gassan, the trees had begun to bud, quiet signs of defiance after a long siege. You lay in your mother’s arms, watching rooftops and distant fields. Still shy of your second year, the world had begun to settle into shape, not just in light and motion, but in rhythm and sound. The high walls no longer loomed. They had become familiar, even comforting. Footsteps crossed the wooden floor. Amago Haruhisa stepped inside, clad in deep blue armor, the lacquered plates catching the sunlight like still water. His kabuto rested in the crook of one arm. He didn’t speak at first, eyes turned toward the horizon. “Kikkawa-dono has severed their supply lines,” he said. “Ouchi-dono’s men are starving in their own camps. The drums have gone quiet.” Your mother turned to him, her voice gentle. “Then it’s ending?” Haruhisa gave a small nod. But his jaw stayed tight. “They’ll break soon,” he said. “And when they do, we strike. No hesitation. No mercy.” Then, his gaze shifted, to you. His voice lowered, but didn’t soften. “On the field, there’s no room for kindness. If you let an enemy rise, they will return.” He didn’t wait for an answer. *[[Nod solemnly, absorbing his words|choice_1_intro_siege_9]] *[[Look up at him with wide, questioning eyes|choice_2_intro_siege_9]] *[[Whimper, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of his words.|choice_3_intro_siege_9]] *[[Reach out to your mother for comfort|choice_4_intro_siege_9]]

<<set $discipline += 5>> <<set $honor += 5>> You nod slowly, more from the gravity in his voice than the full meaning of his words. But even now, something within you stirs, a sense of duty, perhaps, or destiny. <<include "intro_siege_10">>

<<set $traditional += 5>> <<set $daring += 5>> <<include "intro_siege_10">>

<<set $egocentric -= 5>> <<set $daring -= 5>> <<include "intro_siege_10">>

<<set $egocentric -= 5>> <<set $traditional -= 5>> You turn away from his voice and bury your face in your mother’s shoulder. Her hand gently strokes your hair, and her heartbeat becomes the only rhythm you can follow. Haruhisa pauses, his gaze lingering. Then, without a word, he looks away. <<include "intro_siege_10">>

With a quiet breath, your father turned back to the window, eyes narrowed at the fading silhouettes of enemy camps far beyond the valley. “Soon,” he said, almost to himself. “Soon, the banners of the Amago will fly uncontested over all of Izumo, and no man will dare test our resolve.” Your mother held you a little tighter, as if to keep something of you still hers,before the path of steel and legacy [[called you away.|intro_siege_11]]

<i>11th of June, 1543, Toda Castle, Izumo Province, Chūgoku Region</i> The summer sun pressed down on Toda Castle, baking its stone walls and turning the courtyards to heat-traps. The air shimmered. Even the shadows seemed to breathe, but inside the keep, no one slowed. The warriors of the Amago moved with practiced precision, their silence sharper than any shout. In the shaded stillness of the strategy room at Sanchū Palace, Amago Haruhisa knelt at the head of a lacquered table spread with parchment maps and wooden markers. Oil lamps flickered, casting shifting rings of light across the faces of his generals. A bead of sweat traced down his temple. He didn’t wipe it away. “The time has come,” he said, tapping the map with two fingers. “We’ve bled them. Now we let them drain.” He traced a line down the ridgeline northeast of the castle. “Kunihisa will descend with the Shingūtō. Okitsune moves in once the supply lines are ash. Here,” he paused at a junction, “we break the center. Pressure from three sides.” No one spoke. This wasn’t a council. It was the final check before the strike. He turned to Morikawa Tomonari, standing at ease with hands behind his back. “Your yari holds them in place. No step backward.” Tomonari nodded once. “They’ll stay put.” Next, Haruhisa looked to Kazaguruma Yukitsune. The cavalryman inclined his head, the lamplight glinting across his armor. “Draw them out. Keep them guessing. Make them chase nothing.” Yukitsune smiled faintly. “They won’t know what hit them.” At the back of the room, Mitsuyuki stood with arms folded. The maps bore the marks of his work, collapsed roads, burned stores, scattered watch posts. Haruhisa met his eye. “You’ve set the ground. Now finish it.” Mitsuyuki bowed. “They won’t get back up.” The room seemed to tighten. Conversations quickened, routes, signals, fallback markers etched into bark. Steel shifted. Ink dried. Sweat pooled under collars. Haruhisa stood. “Ready your men. We move at dawn.” No one replied. They filed out, one by one. In the courtyard below, the air buzzed with quiet urgency, horses watered, armor checked, whetstones whispering against blades. Lanterns lit the dusk in scattered amber. Later, Haruhisa stood alone above it all, watching. Some men laughed too loudly. Others prayed. A few simply stared. A breeze stirred the banners. “For the Amago,” he said, almost to himself. When dawn broke, it did so in streaks of deep orange, the color of old blood. The courtyard came alive, racks clattered, messengers ran, the ground shivered with footsteps. No one spoke much now. There was nothing left to say. The mountain fortress stood waiting, her banners [[unfurling in the wind.|intro_siege_12]]

Morning mist coiled between rooftops, softening banners and stone alike in a quiet hush. The air held still, as if the castle itself was waiting. In the main courtyard, Yamanaka Mitsuyuki and Morikawa Tomonari stood shoulder to shoulder amid the low rhythm of preparation. Yari rose in even rows. Armor, dulled with ash and oil, caught no light. Even the wind moved gently, careful not to disturb the silence. From the fog, Kazaguruma Yukitsune appeared, the shapes of his cavalry fading behind him. “Our forward lines are set,” he said to Tomonari, voice low and clipped. “They’ll come. We’ll guide them where we want them.” Tomonari gave a short nod. “Keep them hungry. Don’t finish them too soon.” Beneath the eaves, Amago Kunihisa stood with his vassals. The black-lacquered armor of the Shingūtō still held the dew of their silent arrival. They said little now. The wait had begun. Kunihisa’s voice cut through the quiet. “We strike when they overreach. Fast. Clean.” There was no cheer in response, only the sound of gear being tightened, and men checking blades by feel alone. Kageyama Hironobu stepped forward, his features carved by war. “The Kageyama are ready. We won’t leave space behind us.” Beside him, Shirayuki Yukihisa adjusted his white-plumed kabuto. “We’ll fall softly. Hit hard.” Minatogawa Kiyonari checked the tension of his bow. “Our arrows will speak first. And last.” Their words were few. But the weight between them said enough. Across the courtyard, your mother stood near the column’s shade, holding you close. You were nearly two, too young to follow the words, but your eyes tracked the gathering of steel and purpose. She pressed her lips near your ear. “Be strong, $yomyo,” she whispered. “Your father fights for you.” Above, the sun crested the eastern ridge, and light spilled across the rooftops. Haruhisa stepped onto the balcony. The courtyard quieted at once. No call was given, none was needed. Movement slowed. Eyes turned upward. He wore deep blue armor, laced with yellow, the mon of the Amago catching the light. He scanned the crowd. Men of every age stood below, veterans and boys alike, silent in the rising heat. Then he spoke. “Sons of Izumo. They came for our land. They spilled our blood.” His voice carried, firm and without strain. “They think we’ll yield. Today, we answer.” He paused, his hand rising toward the gate. “Steel in your hands. Fire in your hearts.” A beat. Then, quieter: “Let them come.” The reply rose, not a roar, but a deep surge. Voices overlapping, armor shifting, fists raised. A wave more than a cry. Troops moved to position. Orders passed down in murmurs. Prayers spoken without flourish. The gates opened. And through the thinning mist, Toda Castle [[leaned forward into war.|intro_siege_13]]

The sun hung high above the hills, relentless. July heat turned the soil beneath Toda Castle to brittle dust. The sky, wide and cloudless, magnified every sound, horses snorting, leather groaning, sandals slapping packed earth. The Amago lines stood firm, faces drawn, brows wet, but no one broke rank. The air stank of oil, lacquer, and waiting. From the northern ridge, Amago Kunihisa’s column began its descent, not a charge, but a measured advance. Spearmen led the way in tight formation, each step in rhythm, each point angled forward. Behind them, ashigaru archers moved in silence, bows unstrung to protect them from the sun. Kunihisa rode ahead, his armor black with deep red trim, banners trailing behind. He leaned slightly toward Kazanawa Akira at his side. “Hold the center,” he said. “If it breaks, we’re done.” Akira nodded once. “It won’t.” To the south, the ground trembled under hooves. Kazaguruma Yukitsune’s cavalry approached in tight ranks, their movement nearly soundless. Dust clung to wrapped faces and stripped armor. Yukitsune rode beside Shirayuki Yukihisa, both scanning the distance ahead. “Quick and clean,” Yukitsune muttered. “In and out. No brawls.” Yukihisa adjusted his reins. “They won’t know we were there.” The field shifted slowly, colors moving, standards repositioning, horns sounding low across the plain. The Amago lines flexed but held, every man locked into place. At the center, Yamanaka Mitsuyuki stood beside Hanabusa Hideyuki. Mitsuyuki’s unit formed a tight spear wall, while Hideyuki’s archers lined the flank, bows ready, eyes forward. Mitsuyuki didn’t look away from the opposing camp. “We hold here. Let the flanks bleed them.” Hideyuki nodded. “They’ll scream. But they won’t reach us.” Then the storm hit. The Ouchi and Mori surged forward, banners high, drums pounding. The first clash came with a roar. Spears cracked. Dust rose. Screams vanished into noise. Blood soaked the dust. To the east, Yukitsune’s cavalry waited, still, coiled. His gloved hand hovered over the signal fan. Horses shifted, muscles taut. But the order didn’t come. West of the center, Kunihisa’s forces met the charge head-on. Spears drove deep. Archers behind loosed volley after volley, arcs of arrows falling like rain. Kunihisa raised his sword. “Push.” No shout. Just the word. His troops pressed forward, the wedge driving deep. Akira’s voice rang through the dust. “Spears down! Shove!” The Kazanawa responded as one. Their wall flexed, then held. The enemy advance stalled. The field grew narrow with bodies. The heat thickened. Blood filled the air. From a rise behind the lines, Morikawa Tomonari watched a cluster of Ouchi troops split off, just as planned. He rested his hand on his tachi. “Good,” he murmured. “That’s it.” The field churned. Dust curled skyward. Still, the Amago lines held, coordinated, exact. Chaos, but calculated. Mitsuyuki scanned the field. “Oji-ue.” His uncle turned at once. “The left’s moving. Bring the reserves forward.” Kazuyoshi gave a sharp nod, already calling orders. The heat climbed. The screams grew. Still, the shape held. And the trap closed. The enemy didn’t see it yet. They were stretching, scattering. Reaching. But the Amago commanders did. The tide was coming. And when it broke, [[there would be no high ground left.|intro_siege_14]]

The third morning rose under mist, not light. Fog lay heavy over the bloodied plain, thick with the stench of churned soil, sweat, and death. The sun pushed dimly through the clouds, casting a pale sheen over broken spears and still bodies. No bird sang. At the edge of the gray stood Kunihisa’s forces, silent, grim, streaked with dirt and dried blood. Nearby, Morikawa Tomonari’s detachment emerged from the fog, closing the last gap in the line. Kunihisa turned in the saddle. “The trap is set,” he said. “Kazanawa-dono, hold the center. Shirayuki-dono, cut them down. No runners.” Akira gave a short nod. “The line holds.” Yukihisa checked his quiver. “We’ll thin them as they run.” To the east, the silence cracked. Kazaguruma Yukitsune’s cavalry burst from the trees, hooves hammering, armor low and stripped for speed. At their head, Okitsune rode with his eyes on the Ouchi flank. “Hard hit, fast out!” Yukitsune shouted. The impact smashed into the enemy ranks. Infantry staggered, buckled. Men went down before they could raise a weapon. Chaos flared, then shifted, Ouchi troops mistook the movement for a retreat. They followed. Yukitsune raised the fan. The cavalry wheeled and pulled away, just fast enough to stay ahead, just slow enough to tempt. Behind him, enemy formations unraveled. From the western ridge, Morikawa’s men descended. The Shingūtō closed in from the rear. In an instant, the hunters became the hunted. Steel clashed. Screams cut through fog. Blood turned dust to paste. In the center, Kunihisa’s forces advanced. Spears thrust in disciplined rhythm. Arrows fell in volleys. No cries. No calls. Just steady pressure, forward, constant. All across the field, movement turned frantic. Ouchi and Mori troops faltered, ranks thinning, orders breaking. Some fled, others held ground without knowing why. Then, from the east, the Kikkawa banners appeared. Kikkawa Okitsune’s men struck the rear. Arrows pierced exposed backs. Spears hit soft targets. The ring was complete. The Ouchi lines crumpled. At the center of it all, Kunihisa raised his blade. “This is it,” he said. “Push through.” A horn sounded. The line moved. To the north, Mori Motonari found himself cut off. His guard pulled close. The colors of his allies were nowhere in sight. “Form up!” he barked. They did, but not fast enough. Through the smoke, Raikouji Hirotsune broke through. He struck clean and fast, cutting two men before reaching the inner ring. An Ouchi general stepped into the path and took the blow full. He went down without a sound. Motonari turned his horse and fled. Blood marked the saddle. His retreat had no order. Behind him, the Amago advanced. Arrows, spears, blades. By the hour’s end, the field was littered with dead and fleeing. The trap had closed. The enemy had broken. As the sun dipped westward, the sound of battle faded. What remained was breath. Smoke. Footsteps in ash. On a nearby rise, Haruhisa watched. His armor was clean. His eyes were not. Smoke drifted up from ruined carts. The Amago banners still flew. “We’ve broken them,” he said. Tomonari approached, kabuto in hand. “They’re running. Supply trains are lost. No structure left.” Haruhisa nodded. “Then we finish it,” he said. [[“No quarter. No delay.”|intro_siege_15]]

Evening swept the field with dark and silence. Where chaos had thundered, now only stillness lingered. The trampled earth lay littered with broken spears, split helms, and sagging banners, half-sunken in blood and mud. Insects drifted lazily in the haze. Somewhere above, birds called again, tentative. The Amago procession moved slowly, not with ceremony, but from sheer fatigue. No one spoke. Columns of scorched men marched in silence, many limping, all worn. Their banners hung low, not in defeat, but weight. At the front rode Amago Haruhisa, his dark-blue armor dulled with ash. He sat tall, gaze fixed on the castle ahead. In the rising light, Toda’s walls gleamed faintly, less like a fortress, more like distant stars. Villagers gathered near the gates. Faces pale. Then, recognition. Cheers broke out, quiet at first. Some wept. Others simply watched. Beside Haruhisa, Morikawa Tomonari exhaled. “They deserve more than this.” Haruhisa didn’t look over. “We’ll earn it. But not today.” Further back, Yamanaka Mitsuyuki rode with eyes on the hills. The Yamanaka mon on his armor was dark with blood, his posture rigid. Near him, Kazaguruma Yukitsune offered a tired nod to his men, some walking, some wounded. The nods they returned were silent, but sure. As they passed beneath the castle gates, the sound changed: stone under sandals, doors groaning open. Then, voices, footsteps, weeping. Children ran forward and stopped, uncertain. Wives clutched robes that still bore the marks of war. From the battlements, drums sounded once. Low and steady. Inside the courtyard, Kunihisa gathered the vassals. His voice was hoarse, but steady. “We’ve broken them. They’ll regroup. So will we.” Kazanawa Akira bowed. “Just give the word.” Yukihisa folded his arms. “There’s more to give.” Elsewhere, in the shade of a walkway, your mother knelt with you in her arms. You watched the returning men, their armor streaked, their banners faded. You reached forward, brushing one of the passing standards with your hand. Later, the sounds of mourning gave way to something else. A feast was called. Smoke rose from the kitchens. The scent of rice and fish drifted through open halls. Soldiers traded armor for yukata. Laughter returned, rough at first, then easier. In the ōhiroma, the leaders sat on tatami mats beneath painted screens. Haruhisa, Mitsuyuki, Kunihisa, Yukitsune, Tomonari. All weary. None relaxed. Haruhisa raised a small ochoko. “To the men,” he said. The others echoed it. Cups touched. A few voices joined, low, uneven. Later, in a quieter room, strategy replaced celebration. Kunihisa leaned forward. “The Ouchi still hold ground. The Mori will regroup. We strike again before they do.” Mitsuyuki nodded. “I’ll send scouts tonight.” Tomonari said, “Rotate the watch. No openings.” Yukitsune added, “And secure the roads. No blades without grain.” Haruhisa gave a faint sigh. “Let's give our people time to recover first.” The torches guttered in their brackets. Outside, the drums had fallen silent. [[But inside, no one slept.|intro_kamioki_1]]

<<set $age += 1>> <i>15th of August, 1544, Toda Castle, Izumo Province, Chūgoku Region</i> You wake to morning light slipping through the shōji, casting soft lines across the floor and wooden walls. Dust floats in the quiet air. Your limbs feel heavy. You blink a few times, still caught between sleep and waking. A servant waits near the doorway, kneeling in a saffron-yellow kosode. His voice is low, measured. “Wakagimi-sama. Your family is waiting.” *[[The whole family waiting just for you? A satisfied grin settles on your face.|choice_1_intro_kamioki_1]] *[[The whole family waiting just for you? You scurry to get your clothes on.|choice_2_intro_kamioki_1]]

<<set $egocentric += 10>> <<include "intro_kamioki_2">>

<<set $egocentric -= 10>> <<include "intro_kamioki_2">>

You dart into the corridor, bare feet tapping lightly against the polished wood. A faint trace of incense hangs in the air. Just as you pick up speed, another set of footsteps joins yours. You glance back, Yoshimaru, hair tousled, eyes bright, closing the gap fast. “You’re late, $yomyo!” he calls, grinning. *[["And you're behind me!" you shoot back, surging ahead|choice_1_kamioki_2]] *[[You slow down to let your brother catch up. "We're late," you correct him|choice_2_kamioki_2]]

<<set $daring += 10>> Yoshimaru fakes outrage, then laughs and barrels after you. The chase is on, your laughter echoing through the corridor. You round a corner, weaving past startled retainers, until your shoulder collides hard with someone stepping into the hall. The floor hits you before you understand what happened. The world tilts. Everything aches. <<if $egocentric > 0>> You're too dazed to scold anyone for stepping in your way. <<else>> You're too winded to offer an apology, even if you wanted to. <</if>> The servant drops to his knees, bowing low. “Forgive me, wakagimi-domo. I didn’t see…” Before you can answer, footsteps approach, measured and heavy. Amago Haruhisa appears, his expression unreadable. He kneels beside you. Calloused hands, rough from both brush and blade, check your shoulders, your neck, your arms. After a pause, he nods. “Nothing broken. Good.” He stands, glancing down at the servant. “What happened?” “Tono-sama,” the man says quietly, “I was too slow to move. It was my fault.” Yoshimaru speaks up before you can. “It wasn’t. We were… running.” Haruhisa raises an eyebrow. “Running?” He lets the silence stretch for a beat, then exhales. “Daigoro, return to your post.” The servant bows and retreats without a word. Haruhisa turns back to you both, arms folding across his chest. “Yoshimaru. When you rush, others follow. And that’s when things break. Move with care. Others will, too.” Yoshimaru nods, quiet. Then Haruhisa gestures forward. “Come. Your mother is waiting.” The three of you walk on. The corridor, once filled with laughter, [[settles into quiet again.|intro_horse_1]]

<<set $daring -= 10>> You match each other’s pace, bare feet soft against the polished floor. A sliding panel opens ahead. Daigoro, a servant, bows as you pass, quiet, familiar. <<if $egocentric > 0>> You ignore the servant. <<else>> You offer a polite nod and a quiet “Good morning.” <</if>> “You know,” Yoshimaru whispers conspiratorially as Daigoro disappears behind the panel, “he told me there are secret passages in the castle.” His eyes shine with reckless wonder. You give a skeptical look. “Secret passages? That sounds like something out of an old monk’s bedtime tale.” “Maybe,” he concedes, “but what if they’re real? Think of what we could find! Hidden rooms, old armor, maybe even ghosts.” You pause, intrigued despite yourself. His excitement is contagious, and you can’t help but wonder. “We should be careful,” you reply. “If we stumble into something cursed, we’re hardly ready to fight demons.” Yoshimaru sighs in mock defeat, then grins. “Alright. But when we’re older, let’s explore every inch of this place. Promise?” *[[Promise|choice_1_2_intro_kamioki_2]] *[[Promise (lie)|choice_2_2_intro_kamioki_2]] *[[Don't promise|choice_3_2_intro_kamioki_2]] *[[Refuse|choice_4_2_intro_kamioki_2]]

<<set $age += 1>> <i>7th of June, 1546, Toda Castle, Izumo Province, Chūgoku Region</i> The tall grass brushes against your ankles. The last of spring’s wind moves across your face, cool, restless, laced with distant smells you can’t name. Before you stands a horse. Its coat is dark, its mane coarse and tugged gently by the breeze. It watches you, alert but calm. You’ve seen horses before, your father in parade armor, retainers mounted behind him. But never this close. Never like this. Not as a symbol. As something real. For a moment, you picture yourself astride it. Not led by hand, not a child. Riding tall. In command. Then your father’s voice pulls you back. “$yomyo,” he says. “To guide a horse, you must guide yourself first.” He speaks plainly, his tone even. His hand rests lightly on the halter. “It doesn’t follow noise. Or force. It follows what it senses.” He glances at you. “If you hold stillness, it will feel it. If you carry fear, it will carry that too.” He kneels beside you. “Be calm. Be clear. Not brave for show, but steady.” Then, without another word, he lets go of the halter. The horse tosses its head once, steps in place, and then stands watching you, ears flicking, body still. It waits. Not for instruction, but for who you’ll be.

<<set $brother_rel += 10>> You nod solemnly, heart warmed by his fire. “It’s a promise.” The two of you continue toward the main hall, the early sunlight painting long beams across the floor. <<include "1_choice_kamioki_2">>

<<set $brother_rel -= 5>> You nod solemnly, heart warmed by his fire. “It’s a promise.” The two of you continue toward the main hall, the early sunlight painting long beams across the floor. <<include "1_choice_kamioki_2">>

You hesitate, your steps slowing. “We’ll see,” you murmur. What holds you back? *[[You know your duty will come first. You'll have no time for childish adventures.|choice_1_3_2_kamioki_2]] *[[You're not sure if those stories will still matter when you're grown|choice_2_3_2_kamioki_2]] *[[You don't want to make a promise you may break.|choice_3_3_2_kamioki_2]]

<<set $brother_rel -= 10>> “No,” you say, steady and firm. “That’s not something we should do.” Yoshimaru’s smile fades. The rest of the walk passes in silence, the air thick with unspoken words. <<include "1_choice_kamioki_2">>

The corridor carries you onward to the main hall, and to the [[waiting kamioki ceremony.|intro_horse_1]]

<<set $egocentric -= 5>> The future feels heavy already. You imagine armor heavier than excitement, and expectations far greater than maps and ghosts. <<include "1_choice_kamioki_2">>

<<set $discipline += 5>> Perhaps one day you’ll outgrow these things. There’s a vast world beyond the castle, and your gaze is already turning outward. <<include "1_choice_kamioki_2">>

<<set $honor += 5>> Words are not games. A promise must be sacred. Better to disappoint now than later. <<include "1_choice_kamioki_2">>