Takeda BW XXXIV

BW XXXIV – Takeda’s Vision

In a fitful dream Takeda saw a great mesa, rising out of rocky plains, before which snaked a dark-brown river; running right to left, it wound between rocky outcrops, stunted gorse and hillocks that punctuated the bleak terrain. Clouds rushed by, creating deep-grey shadows that galloped across the rugged landscape, unimpeded. The alternating purple, grey, black and brown horizontal stripes of the mesa’s geology were clearly visible from the distance at which Takeda observed the huge, natural structure. Clear too was the partially ruined temple and the soaring keep which pointed towards the heavens accusingly. The path that tumbled and zig-zagged down the sheer rock face glinted invitingly, as the watery sun broke through the scattered clouds and struck burnished metal. Humanoids, clad in armour, picked their way carefully down the path - thousands of them – occasionally creating a stream of glittering pebbles, rolling inexorably toward the valley floor.

Takeda’s eyes were drawn back to the towering keep, which was suddenly plunged into shadow as he heard a female voice, whose tone demanded attention, “You are to take this force south to Locklustar, the ancient home of the Dead,” it commanded.

“As you direct, my Queen,” came the response in an Elf – a tongue Takeda somehow knew. Takeda’s eyes remained fixed upon the darkness of the colossal tower as he concentrated on the voices.

“You are to entreat with the Duergar and seek alliances with the followers of Anubis,” demanded the woman, seeking complete acquiescence. The tone of the response surprised Takeda, “To what end, my Lady?” the male voice challenged without fear of reproach.

“They keep the gate to their underworld,” she said, as if to a wilful child, “in the same way as we for Hel and the Derro for Hades.” After a brief pause, during which no immediate agreement came, and no obvious understanding was apparent, the female continued resignedly, “One of the Natural Gates to the Astral is said to be contained within – indeed many of our…err…competitors have used it as a route to the Lower Planes. Since the White Council emerged from their travels to Persephone’s Garden, Hades has sought to increase his hold on the Gate – and that threatens to spill over onto the Prime.”

A short pause ensued before the elf again challenged, seemingly unconvinced, “That would be a problem, my Lady?”

“It might…” the female was clearly becoming exasperated; it was like pulling teeth, “Look,” she tried again, “I need to establish a dialogue with the other keepers of the ancient paths so that we can perhaps work in closer alignment. After all, Anubis, Hades and Hel have the same design for the Prime, they just go about it in different ways – what if I could align them?”

“Forgive me,” the male voice said, without any desire for forgiveness, “I still do not understand why I need an army of Samurai to conduct a negotiation?” The female sighed, before continuing condescendingly, “Iki Moko believes that you are going to smash the Men of Farass and pressurise the Efferendil, ultimately destroying those which you once loved.” She paused again, waiting in vain for the elf’s comprehension, “He needs you to do this so he can concentrate on the North of Amarsland and crush Mandur.”

Aha, now this was something the elf could understand, “That would seem like a more appropriate task for an Army,” he trumpeted, before demanding, “Why not carry out that plan now and let me negotiate later?”

The female lost control and the voice screamed, “The Duergar have aligned with the Derro, who in turn entreat with Demogorgon!” After a brief pause to collect herself she explained more fully, “Should the Demon Prince have direct access to the other Blooms, I will have little choice but to align myself with him and run the risk of upsetting Orcus.”

The dark clouds of ignorance seemed to clear, momentarily, “This is a delicate game my Lady, and I understand your predicament,” the elf stated before continuing to show his complete ignorance, “but I ask again, why this army has been put at my disposal?”

“Well,” began the woman struggling to ensure that her patience did not dissipate entirely, “I wish it to look as though it is Iki Moko who threatens Demogorgon’s interests, if your dialogue with the Duergar fails to prove fruitful or the Derro become overly interested. Besides, there are others who have yet to play their hands in the South.”

“Such as, my lady?” asked the elf, trying to hide his failure to grasp the geopolitical situation. Seemingly welcoming the change in tack and the opportunity to enlighten, the female replied deliberately, “There are Orientals who headed south during Yagimato’s time in the West. Whilst they have not been heard of for some time, I believe they thrive amongst the cold mountains and rich, plentiful valleys. I also understand that they have found an older folk, long forgotten in Amarsland, who I have foreseen will have a very significant role to play before the end.”

“What kind of folk?” demanded the elf confidently.

“Well,” began the female, slowly, “I believe they are related to the Halflings that are closely aligned with the Sylvan Elves in the East. They may even share the same hatred of the Drow…”

The sniff of battle caught the belligerent elf’s imagination, “Do you anticipate their imminent attack?” Realising that she must pacify her pugilistic underling, the female continued to use a calming voice, “Well,” she began again, “they have a Queen that I know to be a Bloom and she has stretched out her will, revealing herself and some of her intentions.” Then in an undertone, the female seemed to speak to herself, “I doubt if the timing of this was a mistake: we are divided, drawn thinly across the Prime and have suffered many blows – some personal and grievous.”

Grasping only the undertone, the elf jumped once again at the chance to do battle, “For which you intend to make amends, no doubt?”

“Oh, I do…” the voice hissed, oozing malevolence, “I have sent emissaries to the Northern Serpent,” she added conspiratorially.

“The Father of all Wyrms that you spoke of?” the elf asked, happy that he had grasped at least this part of the plan.

“Yes, the Father of All Linnorms…They live in the Frozen North, towards the edge of Morgrad,” the female voice asserted, before continuing triumphantly, “He has agreed that together we would bring Ragnarok to the Prime and set our Lady on the Throne of Asgard.” The female voice let the meaning sink in before again adopting a conspiratorial tone, “He knows the old ways, before even the First Born walked the Prime…He knows how to manipulate the Fabric of the Prime in much the same way as the Gnomes work on Limbo. Together, we will be unassailable.”

This machination seemed to lose the elf who, instead of giving the plan any real thought, asked the obvious, “Has the enemy discovered your intent, my Queen?”

“Perhaps,” the female was piqued from her reverie, “what makes you ask Mercantire?”

“You move swiftly to pre-empt their action, to counter something that has not yet come to pass,” the elf stated plainly, “I guess that you believe the enemy know of your idea to bolster your position on the Prime and you want to ensure that they can do nothing about it.” Takeda could almost hear the cogs of the elf’s mind turn slowly, grinding through all the permutations, at least he seemed to have a brain for war, “My movement south is not just a ruse for Demogorgon and the Derro or a distraction for Iki…” he said, giving voice to his inner monologue, before concluding, “You think it may force others into revealing their hands too early.”

“I do, my Captain,” applauded the female, recognising his military prowess, “I also want to buy some time to understand better all the actors on the Prime – for or against us.” Clearly realising that this would be beyond her subordinate, she explained, “For example, I wonder what affect Milai’s rumoured alignment change might have on her status as a Bloom,” before asking rhetorical questions, “Or will she replace the oriental girl now that she is both Lawful and Good?” If so, what happens to ensure that her old alignment is represented on the Prime?”

“I see; perhaps another of her folk…” began the elf, before realising the obvious flaw in his assessment, “No, it seems unlikely that two Sea Elves would be Blooms. Perhaps an Oriental…” he continued, growing in confidence, before alighting on the crux of it, “Oh, forgive me, I am not swift of mind – you think that the replacement will come from the line of Orientals in the South of Amarsland?”

“Maybe…” she said, waiting for the penny to drop, which it eventually did.

“Do you think that Iki’s samurai will be loyal enough to fight against their own kind?” Now she had him, she had finally made him understand, “Haru-san’s banner will cause many of the Orientals to change allegiance to him – he is their Daimyo,” she began, “Those of stronger will, set against our intent, will be destroyed.” Clearly this part was easy enough; nevertheless, the female felt the need to be prescriptive, “Haru-san must send scouts to the south to ensure that your arrival is a surprise. Indeed, after your negotiations are complete at Locklustar, I sense that you will wish to march further south to meet with the descendants of the Toronaga, Hiromatsu and Minawara peoples to persuade them of our cause.”

As the female’s voice drifted into the distance, Takeda’s vision returned to the wind-swept, rock-strewn plane that lay before the immense mesa, on which was now drawn up a vast oriental army, flying many different banners – the Hata-jirushi of Iki’s army. One stuck in Takeda’s Mind, as it was at the head of the main column. It had a white ‘ground’ on which were four black diamonds and a blue lotus, the centre of which was hidden; a long white pennant flew from its top. It was the Minawara’s Hata-jirushi, entrusted to Tokugawa by Yagimato and lost at the last battle of Vorsaykarai.

Takeda could do nothing but stare at the vast army as it began to lead towards a ford at the extreme left of his vision.