Scott McGough - Outlaw:Champions of Kamigawa

Takeno peered down at the kitsune-bito male. "You speak out of turn, sir. Who are you, with such dramatic pronouncements and no regard for procedure?"

Her brother winked at her before stepping forward. "I am Sharp-Ear." He bowed again, sweeping his arm back. "Of the kitsune-bito."

"The Daimyo already has a foxfolk advisor."

"Who resides in this stronghold, sir. I bring news from the edge of the forest, far to the east."

"And? Deliver your news and be done with it. This is not a theater for you to practice oration."

"Two days ago," Sharp-Ear said, "my sainted mother was praying at the family shrine. She called upon the kami of her favorite tree, an old but insignificant spirit who dwells among the cedars. She asked it for a blessing. Instead, the tree attacked her. She escaped with a nasty wound across her throat and a ruined robe.

"Later, on the other side of the village, a mother was singing a lullaby to her toddling kits. She sang of bees, and flowers, and sweet summer days. A cloud of insects appeared suddenly and swarmed over the family as a single entity, stinging some of the children until they nearly died.

"And during an elder's council, where it was being decided to send the brightest and most handsome of us to tell this sad tale, a kami shaped like a triple-headed fox with the body of a yak and the tail of a serpent appeared. He spat upon the council table, igniting it. He struck at our most revered elders, splintered a sacred stone, and tore the roof off the building."

Pearl-Ear gasped, and she was not alone.

Sharp-Ear bowed again. "That is my tale. We thought the Daimyo should be told."

Takeno stared at the fox-man, considering. "If your words are true…" he began.

"I have also seen it," interrupted a merchant from the floor. "My sons were in the counting house, and they claimed the coins rose up and pelted them like hailstones. When I went to see what they were screaming about, I saw the face of my fortune, sneering at me and hurling abuse."

One of the Daimyo's most decorated retainers stepped forward. "I placed my clan's ancestral blade in the hands of my infant son. The blade curled and cut him across the stomach."

Sharp-Ear raised his voice over the growing chorus. "The Kami War is no longer a matter of territorial intrusions against the Araba. It can no longer be contained within these strong walls by swift-armed response. The most common household spirits have joined the fight, and they are every bit as vicious as those who wage war against the Daimyo's people."

The moonfolk leaned and whispered to the wizard, who nodded. Then both soratami and the mage turned and headed for the exit, with Choryu the student close behind.

"Order," Takeno barked, thumping his foot on the floor to calm the nervous and increasingly loud dignitaries. "This is exactly why we gather in this way, to discover-"

A dull wave of pressure compressed Pearl-Ear's ears against her head. Silence preceded a tremendous clap of thunder that shook the entire room. Dust fell from the ceiling beams and General Takeno stumbled from the dais.

The chamber was suddenly full as a huge, symmetrical shape appeared at its center. It was as tall as the room and half as wide. A thin stem at its center connected two huge, bulbous growths that formed the bulk of its body. It was hunched slightly, looking like great mushroom on the edge of a reflective pool. Spidery limbs grew out of its center, flexing and probing like skeletal fingers, and white energy crackled along its surface.

The air around it was filled with glowing packets of light, like lanterns in a fog. Those spear-like appendages skittered across the floor and waved grotesquely in the air, and several of them straightened out and began to shudder.

Pearl-Ear sprang past the horrific kami, reaching Princess Michiko in three quick leaps. Though she was smaller than Michiko, Pearl-Ear scooped the princess up as if she were an infant, cradling her in both arms.

With a noxious puff of white smoke, the bulbous kami fired a series of its sharp fingers like a volley of arrows. Some shattered on the finely masoned walls, others became lodged in the spaces between the stones. One soared through the space beside the dais, exactly where Michiko had been standing.

Pearl-Ear curled her wiry arms around Michiko and sprang for the door, careful to keep a watchful eye on the kami's twitching limbs. She could not move at top speed while carrying the princess, but she could move far faster than Michiko could.

Then Sharp-Ear was beside her, taking half of Michiko's weight. Her brother still had a mischievous gleam in his eye, but the rest of his face was deadly serious. They locked eyes, nodded, and then dashed from the meeting chamber with the princess held aloft between them. Barely a second had passed between the time Pearl-Ear sprang forward. They carried Michiko to safety, with long, skeletal spears shattering close behind with every step.

Once clear of the chamber, the kitsune flattened themselves against the stone wall, covering Michiko with their bodies. Many of the chamber's residents flew past them in a panicked rush to safety. Some were bleeding or carried spear tips in their flesh. Two lay face-down with spreading pools of red beneath them; they were trampled without hesitation by those fleeing behind them.

Those that made it out of the room quickly ran headlong into a phalanx of soldiers rushing to get in. Sharp-Ear tightened his hold on Michiko and Pearl-Ear, and she responded in kind. In the confusion, the princess was safest where she was.

Pearl-Ear tilted her head and risked looking into the chamber. The terrible swollen kami held several of the meeting attendees in its scrabbling limbs. Its appendages were sharp, and they clicked together like knitting needles. When two or more of these limbs touched, a thin strand of silver thread shot out, snaring the wounded as well as those who had stayed to fight or were too scared to run. The silky thread crawled over its victims, muffling their screams and drawing them in. Those that weren't speared or smothered by the silk were torn open by the flailing insect arms.

Takeno and the samurai who spoke at the meeting both had their swords out, slashing at the spirit invader. They did not stop the creature, but they slowed its advance and tore long rents in its pillowy mass. More soldiers came in and, under Takeno's direction, began hacking the cocooned dignitaries free.

Slowly, the soldiers cleared the room and then drove the bulbous horror across the ichor-stained floor. The creature began to scream as the last of its arms was lopped off. It was growing new limbs as it fought, and it could not replace the arms it was losing fast enough to remain a threat. It tried to surge forward, to crush the soldiers, but they kept it at bay with naginata halberds and the U-shaped blades of their sasumata pikes.

Pearl-Ear turned back to the princess. Michiko was wide eyed, stunned, and muttering to herself. She listened closely and heard the princess praying to her father.

The fox-woman looked at her brother, and the amusement was completely gone from his eyes. Sharp-Ear shrugged helplessly.

"My father," Michiko said, her eyes suddenly alive and earnest. "My father must be told. He'll know what to do."

It was a girlish thing to say, a child's wish for her parent to make everything right. Lady Pearl-Ear wasn't sure if Daimyo Konda was capable of that, but the princess was right about the one thing: the Daimyo must be told.

"I agree, Michiko-hime. We must go to Daimyo Konda."

Michiko stopped, gaping as if she had only just noticed the foxfolk protecting her. "Yes. Let's go now."

Another hideous shriek sounded from the meeting chamber, and a bloody sword flew out the door.

"In a moment," Sharp-Ear said.