The large, impassible mountains that bordered this region to the north and west, provided the perfect defense against invasion from the power hungry Highland Kingdom, but also provided a temperate climate that rarely changed. The cool mountain winds that often visited the valley would give a greatly welcome relief to the scorching summer sun, yet the unforgiving frost of winter would provide no such mercy. Thus, rice shipments from Greenhill were but a necessity for the survival of this knightdom, and if rumors proved true, Teresa Wisemail of Greenhill had failed to deliver the much-needed food to its sworn protectors.

Though the political concerns over squabbling leaders of the City State Alliance were of little concern to the silver-haired samurai as he lifted himself to a sitting position on the worn, hardwood floor. The light of dawn announcing the start of a new day began to shine through the weathered boards of the decaying, yet stable building. Odd, as it was, Genshu pondered to himself as he stood and stretched his stiffened limbs, that he would enter Rockaxe under the premise of secrecy.

It was of little consequence to know that he was a wanted man within this providence, yet he had a mission to fulfill, the memory of Sage’s final words, informing him that the Temple of the Silver Moon was in Rockaxe. Perhaps, however, it was not the mission itself that proved so amusing, but the means by which Genshu had undergone his quest. He returned to this fortress three days prior, yet for the entirety of his visitation, he had skulked in the shadows and dodged the guards as they approached. Such tactics were beneath him, perhaps equal to that of the talentless ninja, but certainly not comprised of the samurai. He felt even dirty, having simply adopted such cowardly devices, even if for but the short stay in Matilda.

Walking steadily toward the gaping hole that was once defined as a window, Genshu peered into the bustling streets of Rockaxe, and watched the various citizens make their way toward their life’s pursuit, oblivious of the current assault on Matilda currently taking place. Three days Genshu has been in Rockaxe, and for each day, a person of some high importance had been murdered, brutally slain under the canopy of night. The violence that perpetrated itself upon the semi-peaceful realm had worked to unnerve the populace of this great city, and begin to question the benevolence of their commanding leader, Lord Gorudo.

Genshu knew Gorudo only as a self-serving despot, a man who placed his own importance above those of his citizens, but the recent string of brutal murders were, as Genshu knew, not the work of the Lord of Matilda. Gorudo was nothing if not intelligent, and he would know, that though these men were political enemies of Lord Gorudo, he would be the first suspect in their brutal murders. Thus, there was nothing to be gained from their demise but suspicion of his role in the affair. No, Gorudo had not murdered these men, and though Genshu had witnessed signs of the Temple of the Silver Moon’s presence within the border of Rockaxe, they were not responsible for the deaths either.

The murders were brutal and horrific in nature, not clean and quick as the samurai were taught. Kill quick and end your opponent. Do not relish his death, for the death of a brave soul should be mourned, not celebrated These murders, however, were long and drawn, and it appeared by all outward appearances, that the victim was kept alive during the greater part of the torture. Though, it was not to be overlooked that the Temple did serve from this rising serial murders, for their purpose was to stay the hand of Jowston, by disrupting the war effort with Highland. It was apparent that the temple in Muse had done just that. The kidnapping of the children of Muse had distracted the citizens from the war effort, and cost the government of Muse several precious days of planning their war strategy against the monster of Highland.

Though, now, in Rockaxe, it seemed the Temple was employing the same tactic, using these murders against Gorudo’s political opponents to stir the pot of angst and suspicion. Though, the Temple of the Silver Moon were not responsible for these deaths, they played a role none-the-less and were causing a severe distraction against the Highland War for what was supposedly the most powerful military in the City State. It seemed deftly ironic that a handful of samurai, three murders, and countless rumors could very well shatter the stability of Rockaxe’s military, but the truth must be believed when witnessed.

The question remained, however, who was perpetrating the murders and why? It seemed that the attacks and swiftness of the killers escape would warrant the suggestion of a ninja; cowards. But this was not very probable, for the Temple would never join hands with the blasphemous shadow stalkers that prostituted their meager talent to kill their opponents without being seen. Such a useless thing the ninja was.

But Genshu pulled his mind from his current berating of the cowardly ninja and focused again on the problem at hand. Perhaps, he realized, the problem was, he was being too indirect in his search for the blue knight Miklotov and the boy who traveled with him, or even in his attempt to find the disciples of the Temple of the Silver Moon. The later, however, would prove more difficult than the former, for though the temple in Muse had a substantial base of operation, no such structure signified the temples presence within Matilda, indicating that the temple agents were, among the populace and were more likely than not, deeply ingrained in its social infrastructure. Thus, hoisting rumors and developing accusations against their Lord Gorudo would be as simple as tavern gossip or secrets swapped in a merchant’s store, and all knew but denied the fact that gossip was more believable than the truth, far more entertaining at least.

Genshu walked from the large cavity in the wall and made his way to his thick, canvas cloak. He wore it often when he sought not to be seen, and though his honor pressed upon his mind the need to display himself proudly as the judge of life and death, commonsense silenced his inner voice and he opted to place the worn cloak around his shoulders and garb himself as a beggar. Though this weighed heavily on his conscious, he knew that he would do no good being caught. The time would come, when all would remove their cloaks and reveal their true nature. Genshu, likewise, would be among those.

Stepping from the weathered schoolhouse and walking into the bustling streets of the seemingly frantic city, Genshu paused a moment to take silent inventory of his rice rations. When he finished, he placed the small bag back into the belt of his robes, under his canvas cloak, having counted two days worth of food remaining. As he still traveled under his vow of poverty, he had no money to purchase more food, and thus, he knew his time in Rockaxe was short because of this.

However, as he leaned against the wall of the local armor shop, Genshu found the conversation taking place too involving to ignore, and chose to eavesdrop on the two men standing before him.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I have a bad feeling in my bones something is going to happen.” The first man said, his voice low and hushed, as if he were afraid to speak his mind.

“Piss off Martin, ye get a bad feeling in yer bones if’n ye see a pretty lass an she dain’t even notice ye. Ye paranoid bastard.”

“I’m telling you Jacob, something is going to happen. I mean, what? The Highland Army has already torched Ryube and Toto and some damn mercenary fort in the Eastern Border. I have a feeling the whole damn country is about to blow up in war. And what now, there saying Tinto is under attack. Sounds like those godless Grasslanders to me. And all this is going on, what are we doing in Matilda? Looking for a murderer. Highland could come to our front gates any time and burn us down and we’re not even prepared. Don’t you think I have a right to be paranoid?” The man named Martin spoke, his voice rising slightly as he voiced his concerns.

“Aye, I was jest trying te lighten de mood a bit Martin. I’ve heard de rumors of wot’s happening in Tinto, though it doesn’t sound nuttin’ like those bloody Grasslanders. Nay, tis more likely than not, its some other group. Bloody bastards, all of them. Why cain’t they just leave us live in peace? I don’t have a family, but I’d like one, one day. Of course, with all the wars it might be better not to bring any kids into dis world. But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re about to go to war. The only good thing I can think of is that at least I’m not an enemy of Gorudo, or I’d already be dead in me grave.”

The last statement received a dry chuckle from the first man, and though they seemed genuinely concerned about the affairs of the world, they were in considerable high spirits.

“Pardon me, please.” Genshu said, walking closer to the two men and interrupting their conversation. “Might I have a word?”

“Aye, ye be needen some food will ye?” The man named Jacob deduced, looking at the ragged cloak of Genshu. “I haven’t a lot to spare, what wit de delay on the rice shipment, but I think Martin and I could come up with some food...”

“No, thank you that is not what I seek.” Genshu continued. “You said that Tinto is under attack?”

“So the rumors say,” Martin said, though he was not as openly willing to trust the good faith of Genshu as his companion. “It seems to be some organized army of sorts. Tinto has been battling these, well, according to the gossip, their not really bandits and their too organized to be tribesmen from the Grasslands. Anyway, they’ve been fighting what seems to be a loosing battle. But the weird thing is, this army or whatever, isn’t advancing on Tinto, their just stalemating Gustov and his little group of miners. Not really sure what the deal with that is, of course, some people think its just a ploy by Gustov to get some financial funds from the other City States, but that doesn’t make sense, because how could he expect to get money when a war is breaking out.”

“Bah...I bloody hate politicians anyway. There better off being boiled in Bandit Tea if’n ye ask me.”

“And, these solders, do you know what they look like?” Genshu pressed again.

“Not really, they vary from 12 foot tall giants to dwarves with purple wings. Rumors make some really tall tales if you ask me. Why? You seem awfully interested in Tinto. You got family there?”

“No,” Genshu said again, bowing his covered head and digesting the information given to him. “It seems just slightly out of place. If I may impose upon you, I do beg your forgiveness, but may I acquire a few coins?”

“Ah...I knew ye’d be hungry lad. As I said before, I haven’t much, but I can give what little I have.”

“I thank you, but this is not for food, I must see to something. You have my gratitude.” Genshu responded, bowing to the two men before leaving.

“A weird one that one be.” Jacob said, watching Genshu disappear into the crowd.

“Maybe, but he didn’t seem quite like a beggar.” Martin continued. “You know who he reminds me of? Old Noot, you know, the half-baked shopkeeper on Paramount Street. He’s a weird one, that Old Noot, keeps talking normally one minute, then just starts babbling nonsense about wars and death. Strange guy.”

“Aye, but tis a strange world. I jest let bygones be bygones. As long as they don’t botter me, more power to ‘em I say. The world needs weird folk too ye know, makes us normal ones look all the more better.”

“That’s the damn weirdest philosophy I’ve ever heard Jacob.”