"Men forget. History remembers. I think I said that some time in the past; well, if it wasn’t me, it was someone wise. The Empire deserves a true history of the events that occurred after our rulers, the Kami, fell to the land to dwell among mere mortals like myself." -Ikoma<br/><br/>You now stand in Kyuden Ikoma, the home of Rokugani history.  A monument to one of the most celebrated ancestors of Rokugan, and the first historian.  You are standing in the least fortified of the Lion strongholds, surrounded by the largest non-military population in all of Lion lands, and currently one of the most in Rokugan.  Below you, and even around you, are the revered Ikoma Histories archived.  The Ikoma palace is a wonder to behold, and perhaps a more significant cultural contribution than any would think the Lion capable of.<br/><br/>The journey here was not a short one, nor entirely comfortable, even for those who can afford luxurious accommodations.  Kyuden Ikoma, once the western-most fortress on the Rokugani plains, is well-removed from proper cities.  The roads are wide and well-maintained, but the final leg to the palace seems much shorter to an approaching traveller than it is in reality, and slightly uphill all the way.<br/><br/>Winter Court has ended, but you would not think it to glance around inside its walls.  Courtiers walk every hall of the palace, and samurai of every Clan's colors can be seen.  Even the Imperial families have a presence there.  You know because you are to meet with one of them.  You have been ordered to present yourselves to Otomo Hoshi, who will be expecting you shortly, to state your names and make an oath of fealty to the Owl Clan.  An Ikoma historian will be present to witness the event, and log it forever in Rokugani history, for all who wish to read for generations to come.<br/><br/>No one, of course, will wish to.  You are nobodies, little more than than ronin chattel, and there will be no reason for anyone to learn your name.  Your oath of fealty will not even be made to a member of the Clan to whom you will soon swear, for your name means nothing to them.  You are nothing more than a number, a small part of a requirement that must be satisfied, and the record of your existence is nothing more than proof of said requirement's satisfaction.<br/><br/>You have been led to a small waiting room, now containing what appear to be two Lion, a Unicorn, a Scorpion, a Dragonfly, and one other not of the Great or Minor Clans.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">OOC</div><div class="spoiler_body">Roll Lore: Heraldry, TN 20</div></div>