With the capture of Rain, Yūri is on her own. Which leaves her, and us, in something of a bind narratively. Where DOES a ninja from the 15th century go in a city twenty minutes into the future? And what does she do when she gets there? I’ll admit I’m as in the dark as the rest of you, which I guess is why we have our handy-dandy
Hour of the Dragon oracle.
What say you, oracle?
549 = 549[d1000]
- he plunged in between
- darkness, shrieking: ‘Help
- lashed out with his heels smiting and tearing. The
- are caught in the fangs
Yuri once again finds herself adrift, moving from shadow to shadow. It’s the middle of the night, thankfully, so while she gets some funny looks thanks to her disheveled appearance, there aren’t so many passerby that she attracts attention sufficient to draw the cops? Or does she?
(3[d10]) No
Eventually she moves into an area with fewer dark spaces than is comfortable, but she has little choice but to keep moving. If you’ve ever seen pictures of
Shinjuku in Tokyo, you have an idea of what she faces: brilliant signs everywhere and dazzling colors. Text in motion, windows filled with gadgets or collectibles, stores promising anime and manga. Everything an
otaku might want or need, gathered into a neon-soaked conglomeration almost overwhelming to even the contemporary eye.
Curiosity overtakes fear, and Yūri goes from shop to shop looking inside. Everything is closed, but the neighborhood is still alive with movement and light. Of all the things she’s seen up to this point, this may be the most alien.
But a cry for help is as familiar as yesterday in the mountains of the Ishida Ryu. A man’s voice, shrieking, and growing closer.
Yūri looks for a place to hide. Is there anywhere nearby which she can use for concealment?
(3[d10]) No
This place is too jammed with shops to allow for even a single dark alley into which Yūri might sink. She goes to run when the man appears at the end of this stretch of stores, in a salaryman’s suit, dashing with briefcase in hand. And in pursuit, a gang of wolfish younger men in far wilder garb.
The man goes down and they pounce on him. He lashes “out with his heels smiting and tearing,” but he is “caught in the fangs” of this pack. They’re armed and the man isn’t.
You’d think a hero would immediately go to the aid of someone like this because, well, she’s a HERO. But Yūri is a ninja first, and ninja solve problems in a practicable manner. What she sees are weapons she can use. She only has to be able to take out these youths.
First we need to know how many. We can assume there are at least a few, given that I’ve already described them as a pack, so are there more?
(8[d10]) Yes
Uh-oh. A handful altogether?
(3[d10]) No
Many?
(2[d10]) No
All right, you’re confusing me, oracle, but I guess that’s the nature of the beast. If there aren’t MANY, which is between six and a dozen, then I suppose that means we have something between that median amount and five. Make it… eight? How about seven? I like seven.
Yūri, on the other hand, DOESN’T like seven because those are odds she can’t easily beat. I mean, let’s look at the gang members’ numbers:
Gang Members
Armor Class: 7
Hit Points: 3
Attacks: unarmed or knife (1d4)
Special: none
Move: 12
HDE/XP: 1/15
It’s a gamble to take on so many, but Yūri is desperate. She also has the drop on these guys, who are concentrating on their prey. That means she has the opportunity to drop one before the others even realize what’s happening, thanks to the Ninja class’s assassination ability.
She has an 85% chance to assassinate a 1 HD enemy, which these gang members are. So let’s roll for it.
8 = 8[d100]
Yūri approaches the knot of bodies on swift feet and, before any of them can react, reaches out and twists one youth’s head around so far he’s almost looking backward. The dry-branch crunch of his spine snapping brings everything to a standstill.
Though no one’s moving, let’s get initiative, starting with Yūri.
6 = 6[d6]
6 = 6[d6]
In the case of a tie, the hero always goes first, so Yūri gets the first action. And that action? Trying to kill another one of these guys using the deadly bare hands of the ninja. Her target number against these enemies is 12. Theirs is 10.
14 = 14[d20]
A hit! Damage?
3 = 3[d4]
A spear-hand directly to the chest sends a pressure wave through the ribs and into the heart. The gang member dies on his feet, his heart stopped in mid-beat. It’s the kind of thing only a ninja could do, and it’s enough to strike fear in the heart of anyone who witnesses it. And, in fact, it does.
These aren’t security guards whose livelihood depends on the execution of their duty. And they aren’t smoke-ninja, who exist only to kill. These are street-gang members in their late teens and early 20s, and they’re not in this to murder anyone or, more importantly, to die themselves.
There’s another long beat, and then they run.
One of the dead gang members dropped a knife. Yūri snatches it up, ready to do battle, but the youths are moving as fast as their feet will carry them.
The salaryman cowers on the ground. He was using his briefcase to shield himself, and it’s marked up with blade cuts where they’d amused themselves trying to draw blood. Maybe they wouldn’t have killed this guy, but they would have made him wish he were dead.
Yūri is a strange savior, and we can’t forget she just straight-up murdered two men in front of the salaryman. Does he try to make a run for it? I wouldn’t blame him.
(9[d10]) Yes
Without so much as a “thank you,” he scrambles to his feet and runs. Yūri lets him go. She has more pressing problems. And there’s the matter of looting her kills.
Do either of these dead youths have any more weapons?
(4[d10]) No
Well, that’s okay. They do have money cards and cash and identification, none of which hold any value for Yūri. One does have some yen coins which, though strange to Yūri, are at least a kind of currency she can understand. These she takes.
A raindrop falls on the concrete. A few seconds later, a steadier fall begins. Yūri strips one of the dead men of his jacket and now it’s her turn to run into the night. She still doesn’t know where she’s going, and neither do I.
