Café de Nuit

Yeah, I'm still doing this. Found in Domains of Dread and pretty much no where else, what's your thoughts and ideas about Rokushima. And while we're at it I'Cath too.

Rokushima is almost without informations, so I have taken another route: I want to use Rokugan 3.0 instead of Rokushima

Rokushima Embassy
  Giant golden carps perch at both ends of the black tile, curved roof atop the newly-built Rokushima Embassy in [City_Name]. These gilt grotesques shade their living counterparts swimming under a red arch bridge in the beautifully groomed front garden. Samurai guards in their horned lamellar mail suits patrol to keep the birds and Speroese alike from sneaking in to fish them up. [TIME] years ago, the new Rokuma shogun reversed his predecessors’ near century-long isolationist policies and, with a stroke of his brush, miraculously relocated the entire archipelago from a pocket of mist directly into the Core proper. The island chain’s advent drastically broadened the Sea of Sorrows and shifted the ocean currents and fish runs, so the sailors complain.
  Starting with Orospero, Rokushima is establishing embassies in each of the great nations. Driveling dilettantes claim Azalin Rex’s disappearance and difficult-to-approach-in-person reputation allowed Vlad Drakov to embarrass Darkon’s national prestige by claiming an embassy for Falkovnia first. The sagacious gift of samurai hunting hawks no doubt kept the Rokuma diplomats from being speared like yakitori.
  I’ll credit the diplomats for knowing their local audience. This embassy hangs gilt calabashes, hyotan in their tongue, on flag poles and along the roofline in reference to some legend about a warlord’s lost gold palace. The rattling gourds supposedly drive ghosts and evil spirits away from buildings – or imprison them if they are the domestic sort that brings fortune when they stay, but then ruins the household tenfold over if allowed to leave.
  These diplomatic overtures belie the shogun’s hunger for parity with the Western Core. While every nation that can float a boat greedily scrambles for footholds on newly-revealed islands and sea rocks, Rokushima’s growing navy of black-bodied warships surveys the shores like wolves stalking a campfire from the treeline. Currently, Orospero’s ocean hegemony is narrowly checked by the Lamordian-Darkonian naval alliance and our unreliable island allies, but the shifting winds of power will soon fill the green and red sails of Rokushima’s lurking black ships.

Rokushima’s memory for wrongs is long. Orospero so fears a vengeful rival in conquest on the high seas that the College of Shadows has even tried robbing the graves of my best naval scientists. Soon enough, all these little challengers will learn well that the dead of Darkon are mine and mine alone.

Rokushima. When a Speroese expedition force made contact with Rokushima and sacked several shrines and castles, the shogun Darklord reacted so strongly that his border closure physically relocated the entire island chain. Some Speroese were trapped ashore. Most were hunted down and executed, but underground survivors shared their knowledge and faiths. An upstart overthrew the old shogun partially with the help of a Speroese fleet and a trade agreement. The new shogun now aims to revolutionize and reach military, technology, and financial parity with the Western Core – and perhaps stab Orospero in the back as repayment for the humiliations it visited on Rokushima in the past. Rokushima recently opened an embassy in Orospero and is building more in the other seaside nations. Rokushima’s new navy of “black ships” is the most severe challenge yet to Orospero’s ocean hegemony.

Mischief wrote:

Rokushima Embassy
  Giant golden carps perch at both ends of the black tile, curved roof atop the newly-built Rokushima Embassy in [City_Name]. These gilt grotesques shade their living counterparts swimming under a red arch bridge in the beautifully groomed front garden. Samurai guards in their horned lamellar mail suits patrol to keep the birds and Speroese alike from sneaking in to fish them up. [TIME] years ago, the new Rokuma shogun reversed his predecessors’ near century-long isolationist policies and, with a stroke of his brush, miraculously relocated the entire archipelago from a pocket of mist directly into the Core proper. The island chain’s advent drastically broadened the Sea of Sorrows and shifted the ocean currents and fish runs, so the sailors complain.
  Starting with Orospero, Rokushima is establishing embassies in each of the great nations. Driveling dilettantes claim Azalin Rex’s disappearance and difficult-to-approach-in-person reputation allowed Vlad Drakov to embarrass Darkon’s national prestige by claiming an embassy for Falkovnia first. The sagacious gift of samurai hunting hawks no doubt kept the Rokuma diplomats from being speared like yakitori.
  I’ll credit the diplomats for knowing their local audience. This embassy hangs gilt calabashes, hyotan in their tongue, on flag poles and along the roofline in reference to some legend about a warlord’s lost gold palace. The rattling gourds supposedly drive ghosts and evil spirits away from buildings – or imprison them if they are the domestic sort that brings fortune when they stay, but then ruins the household tenfold over if allowed to leave.
  These diplomatic overtures belie the shogun’s hunger for parity with the Western Core. While every nation that can float a boat greedily scrambles for footholds on newly-revealed islands and sea rocks, Rokushima’s growing navy of black-bodied warships surveys the shores like wolves stalking a campfire from the treeline. Currently, Orospero’s ocean hegemony is narrowly checked by the Lamordian-Darkonian naval alliance and our unreliable island allies, but the shifting winds of power will soon fill the green and red sails of Rokushima’s lurking black ships.

Rokushima’s memory for wrongs is long. Orospero so fears a vengeful rival in conquest on the high seas that the College of Shadows has even tried robbing the graves of my best naval scientists. Soon enough, all these little challengers will learn well that the dead of Darkon are mine and mine alone.

Rokushima. When a Speroese expedition force made contact with Rokushima and sacked several shrines and castles, the shogun Darklord reacted so strongly that his border closure physically relocated the entire island chain. Some Speroese were trapped ashore. Most were hunted down and executed, but underground survivors shared their knowledge and faiths. An upstart overthrew the old shogun partially with the help of a Speroese fleet and a trade agreement. The new shogun now aims to revolutionize and reach military, technology, and financial parity with the Western Core – and perhaps stab Orospero in the back as repayment for the humiliations it visited on Rokushima in the past. Rokushima recently opened an embassy in Orospero and is building more in the other seaside nations. Rokushima’s new navy of “black ships” is the most severe challenge yet to Orospero’s ocean hegemony.

Where's this from? Yours?

KingCorn wrote:Where's this from? Yours?

Yep. It's from Doomsday Gazetteer 3½, for a new western core nation that uses daylight-compatible horror genres with themes of greed, hope and delusion, and the age of exploration. I've posted a little about the project in other threads, but I am hesitant to declare my intent to complete it officially because it would be a full length shebang, like the Souragne gazetteer with maps, art, and statblocks, and that's a lot of work for one person. But I don't want to go more offtopic here. (You can ask about Orospero in my thread if you want.)

Some of the other content I posted for Rokushima:

Pyreball Flavor Text.
"After listening patiently to my tale of an encounter with a ghostly carriage in Lamordia, the wandering traveler from Rokushima told me of his homeland's fox-masked 'yōkai huntresses'. The mask wards the lady from the spectral flame she evokes. A huntress who loses her mask soon falls sick to 'Fox Madness'. The symptoms begin as simple fever, but within twonight, she hallucinates and cries tears of glowing ghostfire. If nearby natural flames are not promptly extinguished and the afflicted restrained with manacles of lead—" Excerpt from Van Richten's notes for an unpublished guide to supernatural afflictions

Rokushima.
  
  Industrial Revolution (Darklord 2) ← Closed Country Era (Darklord 1) ← Warring States
  
  Rokushima is rather mediocre. If I revamped it (def. not up to that task), I would add dynamism by following the overall historical high notes of the "closed country" Tokugawa shogunate and the sudden about face on that policy that birthed the Meiji Restoration. In the closed country era, you have enforced social codes and the persecution of "foreign" elements. In the new revolutionary era, there is a certain gothic noir appeal where rapid industrialization clashes with traditional ways of life. Conflicts and points of interest for a revised Rokushima could include fallen houses, a turn of the social order which has made irrelevant and outcast whole professions, the stagnation of institutions that could not transform, a feverish push for progress at the cost of 'cultural soul', and forgotten traditions coming back around to haunt.
  There would be at least two Darklords, if not more. One would have closed the country in reaction to colonizers/trade boats/military aggression from the Core and isolated Rokushima as an island domain. Another Darklord would have ended that era and reopened Rokushima with an eye towards industrialization so it can cross swords equally with the rest of the "enlightened Core."

I've always been a fan of the Scattered Lotus Cluster idea from the Pathfinder stats guy, especially the lord of the Poison Sea domain. Ravenloft needs more dragons, and I liked their being another non-humanoid darklord.
A few things I've gotten inspiration from is The Terror season 2, which is about a ghost haunting a japanese-american family during internment in 1941, and Inuyasha.

I remember seeing several thretds on Haki Shinpi.

Mischief wrote: I would add dynamism by following the overall historical high notes of the "closed country" Tokugawa shogunate and the sudden about face on that policy that birthed the Meiji Restoration. In the closed country era, you have enforced social codes and the persecution of "foreign" elements. In the new revolutionary era, there is a certain gothic noir appeal where rapid industrialization clashes with traditional ways of life. Conflicts and points of interest for a revised Rokushima could include fallen houses, a turn of the social order which has made irrelevant and outcast whole professions, the stagnation of institutions that could not transform, a feverish push for progress at the cost of 'cultural soul', and forgotten traditions coming back around to haunt.

I like this. A "closed country" such as Edo period Japan is, for a Ravenloft DM, a robust job box. It answers, in-house, questions as to how a domain can be and can stay isolated from the rest of the setting. In regards to cultural beliefs and practises it lends itself well to gothic-esque themes of both stagnation (a snapshot, or lockdown of both culture and coerced ideals) and decay (an underground societal longing/begroaning of/for the "good old days"), which in turn seeds an underlying potential for rebelliously reachable Change. Rulers versus Elders versus Youth. Generally speaking.

Read the novel "Silence" for some thematic inspiration if you like to self-spring, or watch the movie of the same name if you prefer visual storytelling. It's a story framed by the persecution of Christians (and not just foreigners) during this period, of "earthly" faith, and other such stuff (do your own homework! heh). It would be a great backdrop for a Ravenloft domain IMO, as it bridges the gap between localised prisoners and wandering prisoners (the assumption here being that foreigners have already established a footprint on the islands). A really great "any which way" kickstart to the campaign/adventure that DMs love (that I know of anyway). A controlled blend (all backgrounds, classes, etc are workable in an organic way, as opposed to culture-watering mash-ups); a built-in tensioner (active or background)...etc etc.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Silence_(novel)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Silence_(2016_film)

I wanted to say more but I lost half of my thoughts in translation to words. Would love to continue to bounce potential broadstrokes (the mud under the PCs' feet!), if anybody is interested. If not, I'll just ramble to the next thought and maybe come back to this in a few years. Haha

Five wrote:I wanted to say more but I lost half of my thoughts in translation to words. Would love to continue to bounce potential broadstrokes (the mud under the PCs' feet!), if anybody is interested. If not, I'll just ramble to the next thought and maybe come back to this in a few years. Haha

I'm curious!

I am a proponent of building domains from a theme down. Barovia and Strahd have the terror classic "trapped with the rapist" (especially in 5e). Richemulot is eyes and vermin in the hollowed-out rotting walls. Lamordia grapples with the insanity of reason and where does man end and monster begin? Dementlieu appeals to the young adult fear of bullies, cliques and being left out of them, or worse, having them turn even your 'friends' against you. Falkovnia's is power and oppression, cruel and arbitrary evil. I modified Darkon to focus on the abusive household dynamic. Orospero's is daylight terror and hope as a deadly devouring force.

What do you think Rokushima's horror theme should be and how would the Darklord flow from it?

well, i was planning to use the Kaiden approach on rokushima: the balance between the ying and the yang have been broken and no souls can be freed of the cluster. The cycle of reincarnation is going amok, souls of the deceased are wainting in the etheral any way to being alive again (taking the place of a newborn child or a comatose one) and even onis and corporal undeads are roaming the countries. Chaos is spreading everywhere and all of this because the Emperor broke the pact made by the gods: he refuse to die and became an undead using oni's power.

I like the setting and it's waaaay better than anything ravenloft officialy produced for asian's horror.

Mischief wrote: What do you think Rokushima's horror theme should be and how would the Darklord flow from it?

The overarching theme that I'd paint Rokushima with, and in one word, would be "senescence".

Contrast the negative and positive aspects, the yin/yang if you will. But for Ravenloft/horror purposes I'd focus more on the negative, due in part on the dark lord's (Shinpi) personal connectivity/influence to/on the domain.

The harder you try to hold something in your arms, the quicker it dies.

The ideals of the golden years, of cultural pride, identity, are outdated no matter how hard one clings to them. They don't quite fit anymore. Social consciousness has crept beyond somehow. Today and tomorrow are the only concern now. Yesterday has crawled into its grave and is closing its eyes with a sigh.

Order, the pillars of society, of natural existence, has lost its meaning as it has been degraded to coerced ideals of blind obedience and fealty to mere mortals.

Temples, once the prettiest of flowers in the garden of the gods, now are wartorn hovels and the breeding grounds of disease, for the most part, as the layfolk have more pressing issues than spirituality to deal with. Physical survival trumps all things philosophical and metaphysical. The Spirit withers under such conditions.

(I would add nation-wide desecration to Shinpi's crimes as one of his terror tactics in his move for the throne, personally as a "proving point" to his troops, and by shadow order to his personally-raised akikage force. Akikage which only he can raise and control, and who acts as his sole means of "interacting" with the material world. Other evil spirit weavers can seemingly create and control them, as ansasshia, but this is all gamesmanship on Shinpi's part)

The clan mentality, the familial ties that bind, are fraying with the chaos resulting from a dying dream. Ambition of one has gone to rot. It was real but temporary; almost illusion. And the dreamer is destined to watch it all shrivel and slough away.

The youth, casualties of the dreamer's embrace, are maturing during this suffocating process though. They see all that is, hear all that was, and dream of what needs to be. How will they respond? How will this new (and inevitable) cycle play out?

Are the flowers truly withered, or are they evolving into some sort of strange new garbage flower?

The seasons turn...

Kinda quick thoughts for now, just to send out the vibe I get from this particular (and thankfully virgin) domain. I don't etch imagination in stone though so none of it is closed iff to change

Edited few times for stoking purposes. Time crunch prevents full flow but will continue building. Manifestation(s) of theme still lacking

Re: Thematic Manifestations (as I see them):

Some manifestations include:

The obvious. Shinpi, the dreamer, has done the impossible: taken the throne and built an empire in His image. It was his destiny and he wished nothing more than to pass this glory on to his sons. It is currently being torn apart in a multi-sided civil war, and all he can do is silently watch, weep, and rage. It is after these fits that people begin to drop dead, usually those who last whispered into the ears of his sons. A string of paranoia-induced retaliatory violence always seems to follow.

The odd. Priests can no longer communicate with the kami. Absolutely baffled, they try everything to re-establish a connection but all they have achieved to date is crushing emptiness. Yet it is not unusual to hear rumours of individuals developing a vast array of "powers" that are both strange and vaguely familiar. These seemingly random people, from all walks of life, are sometimes said to possess two spirits. Sometimes they are called the Cursed, the Damned, or the Unclean. Most are said to be unable to control these strange new abilities, and none can quite explain why it is that only non-believers are affected in such a way...

One of Haki Shinpi's grandchildren has proven to be an adept medium, having been for years terrified of his grandfathers ghost. Realizing the boy could see him, Haki urged the boy to advise his father into making peace with his brothers and ending the civil war. Instead, the boy was labeled insane and exiled far from court. Haki now seeks to shape the boy into his true heir, the son he should have had, and have him overthrow his own father and take over the island, and hopefully all of Rokushima.

My personal take on Rokushima was centered around the theme of family, dynasty, and legacy.

Real-life history has dynastic names that may be recognized by many people around the world: Ming, Qing, Tokugawa, York, Lancaster, Habsburg, Bonaparte (to name a few). Haki Shinpi, unlike so many other Ravenloft villains, never sought to live forever or to delay his own death. No, Shinpi knew that death was inevitable, that no man could live forever. But he was clever enough to know that the names of some men are never forgotten. It was the enduring legacy of a great dynasty that Haki Shinpi sought to create, so that his name would forever resound through the annals of history.

Every betrayal, every crime, every brutal murder and torched village, indeed his every waking moment was spent in establishing his own kingdom, and eventually he succeeded, finally defeating the last warlords and nobles who opposed him and sweeping away the old governments, making way for his new kingdom, which he named Rokushima, after the six major islands that formed its central core. But life was not kind to Shinpi, and he died barely a few months after taking his place upon the throne.

In life, he had been a shrewd man, a cunning killer, a skilled soldier, and an even better strategist. But he had never been a good father. Shinpi had always assumed that once he had won his kingdom, he would then instill in his children and grandchildren a love and worship for the dynasty he had founded, that it might survive throughout history. But he did not get the chance, and during his life, his own six children (4 sons and 2 daughters) had instead only learned from his cruelty and betrayals.

Though he had not been a ruler long, Shinpi had quickly established rules for his succession upon proclaiming his kingdom: after his death, there would be a week-long period of mourning, after which a special letter chest he had prepared would be opened to reveal who would be his true successor. Upon his death, most assumed it would be his eldest son. As a conquering general, Shinpi had weakened the power of rival nobles by promoting an independent order of samurai and military officers who were beholden to him and his kingdom, not the noble houses. For the last few years of his conquest, his eldest son had served as the leader of this cadre, and they strongly backed his claim to the throne. So while many of the remaining nobles backed his other sons, who had served as military governors over conquered territory and manged to bribe, extort, or murder their way to gaining the support of those nobles, it seemed inevitable that the military power that had brought Shinpi to power would secure his succession.

But Shinpi's failures as a role-model disrupted these plans. In fact, they did not even last a full day. On the first night of the mourning period, Shinpi's elder daughter (his second child) went to see the eldest son. No one is entirely sure how it came to be that the eldest son was not prepared for treachery, even from his own kin, but the following morning he was found impaled upon his own sword. Even worse, the small wooden chest that held the identity of Shinpi's chosen successor was set ablaze that same night, taking it with his secret and ensuring no legitimate succession could follow.

One the second day of mourning, civil war broke out. When news of the murder of the eldest son reached the army, samurai loyal to him stormed the family palace. Most of the family had already disappeared, but the soldiers killed nearly all of the remaining staff and secured the safety of Shinpi's then-only grandson: the son of Shinpi's eldest. These soldiers then proclaimed him the true heir of Shinpi and established a military general staff to serve as regent until the boy was old enough to assume rule for himself. But by this time, it was too late and the damage had been done.

Expecting the anger of the army officers loyal to their eldest brother, Shinpi's three younger sons fled to the islands where they had served as military governors and rallied the local nobles there to support their own bids for the throne, often with promises of power in the new administration to secure their loyalty. On the third day of mourning, all 3 surviving sons proclaimed themselves the true heirs to the throne and set about securing their new island domains from attack.

Shinpi's eldest daughter sought out her own supporters as well. Having shown no interest in martial matters, the eldest daughter had largely served as administrator of the civil portion of Shinpi's fledgling government, often working hand-in-hand with the mercantile factions to supply the armies and secure their ships when needed. So when the civil war came, she fled to an island where many of the merchants were headquartered and, using the might of their ships to control the port cities and their armed guards to quell any dissent elsewhere, established her own fiefdom. On the fourth day of mourning, she declared that the old ways were dead and that a new way would come, where it would be wealth and skill, not heredity, that secured influence and power; where anyone who worked hard and prospered could rise to the top.

The army officers in the palace viewed this as a temporary situation. Though the majority of their naval assets had fled to other factions, they still had the army and it was only a matter of time until they could turn it against the pretenders. But alas, one final betrayal ensured there would be no easy end to the war. Shinpi's youngest daughter, only a teenager, had largely been forgotten in the politics of succession. She had few supporters and none of them had any military significance, and she'd completely disappeared in the aftermath of the murder and military assault on the palace. On the fifth day of mourning, she re-emerged alongside a well-known monk, renowned for his wisdom, who proclaimed before a large assembly of common soldiers that the present chaos was the result of relying upon nobles and samurai and ignoring the teachings of the gods. And the youngest daughter proclaimed that in her kingdom, there would be a queen who served the gods and mediated with them on behalf of her people, and all other citizens within the kingdom would be equals. Her promises stirred long carried grudges among the common soldiers and peasants of their resentment towards the nobles, samurai, and rich mercantile houses. On a wave of religious and social fervor, a large portion of the soldiers deserted the new regime, carrying with them their queen to the last of the six isles where, with the backing of the temples and monasteries, the soldiers and peasants stormed the noble castles and tore them down.

On the sixth day of mourning, upon which Shinpi's true heir was supposed to have been revealed, Haki Shinpi arose as a form of geist to see what his own family, having learned well the lessons of his life, had wrought.

Haki Shinpi sought to establish a legacy through his dynasty, a kingdom for the ages whose name would echo down the halls of time. But in truth, Haki Shinpi established a legacy of betrayal and cruelty. Over the generations since his six children started the civil war, his descendants have consolidated control over his kingdom, only for the victor to die much as Shinpi himself did and a new generation to reignite the feud.

Shinpi himself has been denied the afterlife due to his outrage and horror at the events following his death, but he has few avenues available to resolve the situation. With great effort, Shinpi can manifest himself to any of his descendants, usually in dreams, but this effort exhausts him for weeks or months and, he has learned, rarely alters the course of their actions. More profitably for Shinpi, he can much more easily manifest and, over time, gain control of foreigners who arrive in Rokushima. Over the years, foreign military advisers have become popular, as Shinpi has possessed these people and used his strategic genius to bring one of this descendants to a unified throne...only to die in the inevitable chaos following the death of this new king. This last bit has been largely overlooked and foreign advisers are commonly viewed as good luck to the warring contenders.

Cromstar wrote:

VIEW CONTENT:

My personal take on Rokushima was centered around the theme of family, dynasty, and legacy.

Real-life history has dynastic names that may be recognized by many people around the world: Ming, Qing, Tokugawa, York, Lancaster, Habsburg, Bonaparte (to name a few). Haki Shinpi, unlike so many other Ravenloft villains, never sought to live forever or to delay his own death. No, Shinpi knew that death was inevitable, that no man could live forever. But he was clever enough to know that the names of some men are never forgotten. It was the enduring legacy of a great dynasty that Haki Shinpi sought to create, so that his name would forever resound through the annals of history.

Every betrayal, every crime, every brutal murder and torched village, indeed his every waking moment was spent in establishing his own kingdom, and eventually he succeeded, finally defeating the last warlords and nobles who opposed him and sweeping away the old governments, making way for his new kingdom, which he named Rokushima, after the six major islands that formed its central core. But life was not kind to Shinpi, and he died barely a few months after taking his place upon the throne.

In life, he had been a shrewd man, a cunning killer, a skilled soldier, and an even better strategist. But he had never been a good father. Shinpi had always assumed that once he had won his kingdom, he would then instill in his children and grandchildren a love and worship for the dynasty he had founded, that it might survive throughout history. But he did not get the chance, and during his life, his own six children (4 sons and 2 daughters) had instead only learned from his cruelty and betrayals.

Though he had not been a ruler long, Shinpi had quickly established rules for his succession upon proclaiming his kingdom: after his death, there would be a week-long period of mourning, after which a special letter chest he had prepared would be opened to reveal who would be his true successor. Upon his death, most assumed it would be his eldest son. As a conquering general, Shinpi had weakened the power of rival nobles by promoting an independent order of samurai and military officers who were beholden to him and his kingdom, not the noble houses. For the last few years of his conquest, his eldest son had served as the leader of this cadre, and they strongly backed his claim to the throne. So while many of the remaining nobles backed his other sons, who had served as military governors over conquered territory and manged to bribe, extort, or murder their way to gaining the support of those nobles, it seemed inevitable that the military power that had brought Shinpi to power would secure his succession.

But Shinpi's failures as a role-model disrupted these plans. In fact, they did not even last a full day. On the first night of the mourning period, Shinpi's elder daughter (his second child) went to see the eldest son. No one is entirely sure how it came to be that the eldest son was not prepared for treachery, even from his own kin, but the following morning he was found impaled upon his own sword. Even worse, the small wooden chest that held the identity of Shinpi's chosen successor was set ablaze that same night, taking it with his secret and ensuring no legitimate succession could follow.

One the second day of mourning, civil war broke out. When news of the murder of the eldest son reached the army, samurai loyal to him stormed the family palace. Most of the family had already disappeared, but the soldiers killed nearly all of the remaining staff and secured the safety of Shinpi's then-only grandson: the son of Shinpi's eldest. These soldiers then proclaimed him the true heir of Shinpi and established a military general staff to serve as regent until the boy was old enough to assume rule for himself. But by this time, it was too late and the damage had been done.

Expecting the anger of the army officers loyal to their eldest brother, Shinpi's three younger sons fled to the islands where they had served as military governors and rallied the local nobles there to support their own bids for the throne, often with promises of power in the new administration to secure their loyalty. On the third day of mourning, all 3 surviving sons proclaimed themselves the true heirs to the throne and set about securing their new island domains from attack.

Shinpi's eldest daughter sought out her own supporters as well. Having shown no interest in martial matters, the eldest daughter had largely served as administrator of the civil portion of Shinpi's fledgling government, often working hand-in-hand with the mercantile factions to supply the armies and secure their ships when needed. So when the civil war came, she fled to an island where many of the merchants were headquartered and, using the might of their ships to control the port cities and their armed guards to quell any dissent elsewhere, established her own fiefdom. On the fourth day of mourning, she declared that the old ways were dead and that a new way would come, where it would be wealth and skill, not heredity, that secured influence and power; where anyone who worked hard and prospered could rise to the top.

The army officers in the palace viewed this as a temporary situation. Though the majority of their naval assets had fled to other factions, they still had the army and it was only a matter of time until they could turn it against the pretenders. But alas, one final betrayal ensured there would be no easy end to the war. Shinpi's youngest daughter, only a teenager, had largely been forgotten in the politics of succession. She had few supporters and none of them had any military significance, and she'd completely disappeared in the aftermath of the murder and military assault on the palace. On the fifth day of mourning, she re-emerged alongside a well-known monk, renowned for his wisdom, who proclaimed before a large assembly of common soldiers that the present chaos was the result of relying upon nobles and samurai and ignoring the teachings of the gods. And the youngest daughter proclaimed that in her kingdom, there would be a queen who served the gods and mediated with them on behalf of her people, and all other citizens within the kingdom would be equals. Her promises stirred long carried grudges among the common soldiers and peasants of their resentment towards the nobles, samurai, and rich mercantile houses. On a wave of religious and social fervor, a large portion of the soldiers deserted the new regime, carrying with them their queen to the last of the six isles where, with the backing of the temples and monasteries, the soldiers and peasants stormed the noble castles and tore them down.

On the sixth day of mourning, upon which Shinpi's true heir was supposed to have been revealed, Haki Shinpi arose as a form of geist to see what his own family, having learned well the lessons of his life, had wrought.

Haki Shinpi sought to establish a legacy through his dynasty, a kingdom for the ages whose name would echo down the halls of time. But in truth, Haki Shinpi established a legacy of betrayal and cruelty. Over the generations since his six children started the civil war, his descendants have consolidated control over his kingdom, only for the victor to die much as Shinpi himself did and a new generation to reignite the feud.

Shinpi himself has been denied the afterlife due to his outrage and horror at the events following his death, but he has few avenues available to resolve the situation. With great effort, Shinpi can manifest himself to any of his descendants, usually in dreams, but this effort exhausts him for weeks or months and, he has learned, rarely alters the course of their actions. More profitably for Shinpi, he can much more easily manifest and, over time, gain control of foreigners who arrive in Rokushima. Over the years, foreign military advisers have become popular, as Shinpi has possessed these people and used his strategic genius to bring one of this descendants to a unified throne...only to die in the inevitable chaos following the death of this new king. This last bit has been largely overlooked and foreign advisers are commonly viewed as good luck to the warring contenders.

What an incredible telling!

┄┅━━ ▫ ❖ ▫ ━━┅┄

I never liked Haki Shinpi's name. 'Shinpi' sounds like a bald yakuza hanging out at a pachinko parlor. I propose the alternate name: 覇気 将豪 Haki Shōgō. The character meaning is "ambition/vigor/spirit great general". Shōgō is borrowed from a martial artist and is pretty easy to say and spell and remember. Haki would be the family name inherited by the kids, and Shōgō the given.