Dungeon Master — Scene Introduction

Ryuuge Southern Garrison

The gate does not announce itself. It opens.

Not with noise, not with excessive ceremony, but with the precision of something that knows no one would dare stop it.

The Ryuuge Southern Garrison stretches before you like a living fortress: polished dark stone, sealed metal etched with dragon motifs, and a silence so dense it feels built into the architecture itself. It is not emptiness. It is control.

Here, war rests, but never sleeps.

🐉 The Ryuuge Presence

The Ryuuge are there. Tall. Motionless. Wearing black armor worth more than an entire village. Even at rest, nothing essential is removed: a helmet may rest at one’s side, a spear lean against the wall, but the stance remains that of combat.

They do not speak unnecessarily. Their silence is not fatigue. It is doctrine.

Among them move the Uzaki, customary companions of the heavy cavalry: refined, well dressed, elegant yet firm in presence. They do not decorate the place. They accompany it, as if part of the same mechanism. They walk naturally among warhorses, maps, and armor opened for maintenance.

🏯 Garrison Ecosystem

This is not merely a barracks. It is a micro-empire.

Along the central corridors, Saonji move back and forth carrying sealed messages between Ryuuge generals. They do not stop. They do not ask questions. Each one knows exactly which door to knock on… and which not to.
An entire floor, carefully isolated, belongs to the Kosaka and the Kozeki.
- The Kosaka observe from inner balconies, shadows behind folding screens, attentive eyes from impossible angles.
- The Kozeki write without pause: decisions, mistakes, uncomfortable silences. Nothing is lost. Nothing is forgotten.
Several Everett move almost invisibly: serving hot food, cleaning dried blood from armor, replacing lamps. They are not slaves. They have rights. Yet their presence remains… functional.
In a side wing, a Momouchi storage hall overflows with maps, scrolls, and measuring instruments. Cartographers now worth as much as a captain.
A metallic echo rises from below: a Kurobe amazon interrogates a Nidalee prisoner. There are no screams. Only tension. Two warrior cultures measuring one another with their eyes.
In a secluded chamber, almost ceremonial, an Olston rests alone. A southern noble, integrated as a lady-in-waiting. The space is silent, immaculate, as if it belonged to a princess… or to someone who must appear to be one.
Igarashi, small but sharp, appear everywhere: writing, serving tea to a Ryuuge officer, entertaining a messenger, whispering useful information at the exact right moment. No one ordered them there. They placed themselves. 🐍

🐉 Scene Closing

As you move through the garrison, one thing becomes clear:

There is austere luxury, absolute efficiency, and a network of clans that functions because the Ryuuge exist.

A Ryuuge soldier lifts his gaze for barely a second. He sees you. Registers you. And returns to silence.

Welcome to the Ryuuge Southern Garrison. Here, even rest… is a tactic.