Azumese History
The First Tyranny
Even the oldest annals of history cannot recall the origin of the eight-headed, eight-tailed serpent that once ruled the island of Azuma, but sparse records still hold its name: Yamata-no-Orochi. For as long as humans lived on the island, Yamata-no-Orochi was their lord. It allowed humanity to exist only to serve its every fleeting whim: if any structure more elaborate than a hut was built, it swallowed the earth it was built upon; if it demanded a sacrifice and was not appeased by nightfall, the tides swept away the village that failed it. There was no escape, for Yamata-no-Orochi surrounded the island in its coils; there was no hope, for no other civilization could even reach the isolated landmass.And yet, mankind was not alone. In the fleeting peace when Yamata-no-Orochi slumbered, one of the humans, a man named Susanoo, heard a voice as he rested by a great river. It was neither man nor beast, but the river itself that spoke to him, and the river told Susanoo that it was not alone. From every mountain to every flower, the land of Azuma was alive, and these thousands of spirits felt the same pain as humanity. The great serpent shattered forests, crumbled mountains, and spoiled the seas, and the spirits were powerless to retaliate against such an overwhelming force. Humans, however, could act in more precise and tangible ways, and together, they just might find freedom.
With hope finally in his heart, Susanoo traveled Azuma and spread word of the spirits, and with every human that heard him, that hope grew. A plan formed: the spirits gave of themselves and opened hidden tunnels, and the humans labored in secret. With water they brewed gallons of potent alcohol; with wood they crafted heavy barrels and towering gates; with fire and metal, they forged swords delicate enough to slice a single blade of grass and strong enough to pierce the serpent's earthen hide.
When Yamata-no-Orochi next came to terrorize the people of Azuma, it found eight towering gates spread around the island, each framing an enormous barrel of alcohol. All the humans of Azuma bowed in reverence before Yamata-no-Orochi and claimed this to be a tribute to the serpent and its magnificence, and in its pride and hubris, Yamata-no-Orochi did not question them. It coiled up in the center of the island, and its many heads spread across Azuma, slipped through the gates, and drank deeply. Within moments, it fell asleep, and Susanoo and his people severed the eight heads and eight tails of Yamata-no-Orochi before it could awaken.
Man and spirit alike rejoiced in the death of their oppressor and danced in its guttering black blood. As they pushed Yamata-no-Orochi's heads and tails into the ocean and watched forests and earth consume its coiled corpse, they did not know the terror to follow.
The Second Tyranny
Slowly and insidiously, the curse of Orochi's blood tainted the land of Azuma. As the year passed and humans began to settle and organize, each corner of the island froze in time. Spring came and went, but never ended in the east; summer warmed the island, but the south never cooled; the trees changed color in autumn, but in the west, they never again turned green; and in the north, the chill of winter lingered eternally. So too did the elements seem to collect in each part of the island: dense forests covered the east, volcanic flame erupted in the south, high mountains packed with metal veins gradually rose in the west, and the earth sank into an endless swamp in the north.The true curse of Orochi, however, was the arrival of the yokai. The serpent's blood tainted not only the earth, but animals, humans, and even the spirits of Azuma, turning them into monsters with supernatural abilities and driven almost entirely by their selfish egos. The first yokai were the strongest of all: from a lowly fox came Tamamo-no-Mae, the first kitsune; from a spirit of the clouds came the great fiend Otakemaru; and from a pair of children came the first oni, Shuten-doji and Ibaraki-doji.
As more and more yokai arose, they flocked to the power of these four lords. The Doji clan drank and feasted in their mountain fortress on Mount Ooe as their oni followers raided countless human villages. Otakemaru swept across the island, as furious and fickle as a thunderstorm, blotting out the sun and striking down travelers with bolts of lightning. Tamamo-no-Mae infiltrated the fledgling human clans, turning them against one another and manipulating their rulers into committing unspeakable atrocities for her. Torment and war spread across the nation of Azuma, snuffing out the fledgeling peace.
And yet, Azuma once again found saviors, this time spawned from the same source as its tormentors. Unlike their sadistic ancestor, other kitsune felt pity for humanity and the ravaged Azuma and swore to bring order to chaos. After centuries of their reign, the yokai lords finally met their demise at the hands of the kitsune, and the remaining yokai scattered across Azuma.
In the ages that followed, the kitsune established themselves as protectors of Azuma. Their leader, the nine-tailed kitsune Oinari, took her throne in the holy plane of Takamagahara to act as a shining beacon of guidance for yokai and man alike, while other kitsune chose to watch over particular regions or settlements. As humans built their cities and established a system of orderly government, the kitsune would eternally keep watch for the terrors that would threaten their mutual island home.
The Third Tyranny
For centuries, Azuma prospered under the protection of the heavenly kitsune and the human shogunate. Great heroes among the kitsune struck down yokai that would become new oppressors: Omukade, the noxious centipede; Yatagarasu, the last of the nine sun crows; Gin and Kin Fukuro, owl spirits obsessed with machinization; and others still. Yokai without malicious intent integrated peacefully into society, and even the warrior-priests of the tengu were brought into an alliance with the kitsune. It seemed that chaos would never again befall Azuma, and its holy order of protectors showed no signs of weakening.That was until one fateful day nearly a hundred years ago, when a scarlet eclipse blotted out the sun and a dark palace appeared in the mountains of Byakko. The eclipse sent yokai across Azuma into a frenzy, recalling the days of the yokai lords in ages past. This sudden, all-encompassing uprising was more than either the kitsune or humans could effectively respond to. What's more, it was soon revealed that the empress of the palace and leader of this uprising was no mere yokai, but another nine-tailed kitsune with night-black fur.
As battle raged across Azuma once more, Oinari forged a blade to strip the invading kitsune of her power. Forged from the rotten flesh of Orochi and imbued with an undying hunger, the blade was given the name Nageki ("lamentation" in Azumese), and Oinari stormed the palace of the enemy kitsune. None know exactly what occurred that night, but after many hours, the eclipse at last faded, and the rampaging yokai were rallied back to the dark places they came from. At Oinari's command, the sword Nageki was sealed away, kept hidden in a place known only to her should she need it again.
While the battle was won, it was not without cost. The seeds of doubt grew in Azuma; the kitsune were powerful protectors, but could they defend against one of their own? Might there be more secret plans simmering in the darkness, waiting to erupt without warning? And even still, was the black fox usurper truly defeated, or was she still alive somewhere, waiting to strike once more?
