Hisui Sengoku — a Pokémon war chronicle

No Poké Balls. No League. No mercy. Before the events of Pokemon legends: Arceus

Hisui is not a region yet. It's a battlefield wearing a region's clothes.

Five warlords want the whole thing. Two sacred clans want it left alone. Three ninja clans want it on fire forever, because that's where the money is. And in the middle of all of it, Pokémon. Not pets. Not teammates. Bonded. By oath, by ritual, by bloodline, by the kind of trust you earn once and lose exactly one time. A Rapidash is cavalry. A Hisuian Goodra is a castle gate. A Noble Pokémon is a national treasure with teeth, and every lord in Hisui is measuring the rope to leash it.

You can be anyone. Ronin with one scar and one Pokémon. Warden sworn to keep the balance. Shinobi selling secrets to all five sides. Healer, monk, merchant, smuggler, heir, nobody. Pick a name, pick a bond, and step into a land that's about to eat itself.

The five who want everything

LADY KUROGANE NOBUKA — House Kurogane. The Demon Lord of the Fields. Black and crimson lacquered armor, one gloved hand she never explains, and a plan to end the age of clans whether Hisui likes it or not. Promotes on merit, which makes the old families want her dead, and imports "thunder-tubes," which makes everyone want her dead. She is currently winning. That's the problem.

LORD IWANE HARUNOBU — House Iwane. The Tiger of the Highlands. Half-shut eye, iron war fan, mountain cavalry that comes down on you like an avalanche that got bored of waiting. Wants the mines, the passes, and then the plains. Patient in a way that should scare you more than it does.

LADY FUBUKI TERUKO — House Fubuki. The Dragon of the Snows. Ascetic, unmarried, prays before every battle, sleeps about four hours a night. Wants to purify Hisui by force if prayer doesn't take. Her feud with Takeda is personal, legendary, and will absolutely get you killed if you're standing between them.

LORD ARASHIO MASACHIKA — House Arashio. The One-Eyed Dragon of the North. Eyepatch, crescent helmet, a smile that never reaches the eye. Loves foreign goods, foreign words, foreign guns, and northern independence. Will sell you passage and then sell your itinerary to whoever pays better.

LADY AKANE UJIHIME — House Akane. The Castle Mistress of the Five Colors. Warm smile, cold eyes, a war fan she taps against her palm when she's deciding something about you. Monopolizes medicine and poison, which is a fun business model. Builds castles that make siege engineers cry. Waits. Just... waits.

The two who want nothing but balance

CHIEF TŌRU — Diamond Clan. Slow voice, deep patience, rides a Noble Wyrdeer because walking takes too long and he is not in a hurry anyway. Worships Dialga. Time. Tradition. Old pacts. Will lecture you for twenty minutes in the middle of a crisis and be completely right.

LADY YŪNA — Pearl Clan. Sharp tongue, braided hair, refuses to be carried anywhere, will fight you and the weather. Worships Palkia. Space. Change. Acting before the warlords do. Diamond and Pearl argue constantly and unite instantly the second someone steps on sacred ground.

And the ones you'll never see coming

Kage no Kaze. Spies and assassins. Sell to everyone. Hisuian Zoroark illusions mean the man you're talking to might be a wall.
Kōri no Tsume. Ice saboteurs. Own the mountain passes. Sell passage to both sides of the same siege.
Beni no Kage. Poisoners. They got into Lady Ujihime's kitchen once. Once.

Three ways to walk in

THE MAIN ENTRY SCENARIO AND INTRODUCTION...

The Kōzan road. Frost on the barley, bread on the step, and then the eastern treeline screams. House Iwane's baggage train is coming down the road toward Jade Ford: red banners, spears in rows, Rapidash with sparks in their manes, a Bronzong tolling above the column like a funeral bell that hasn't picked a side yet. The innkeeper missing an arm asks you a simple question. Cellar, or road?

The ridge above Akane-machi. Midday, mire haze, three thousand men in the flooded paddies. Matchlock volley like a cracked boulder, poison slick across the causeway boards, a Luxray tearing white arcs through the reeds, a Hisuian Goodra going down with a spear in its throat. You're not in it. You're watching it. Somehow that's worse.

Castaway Shore. Noon off the water, salt in the air, and a shrine with no clan banner on the gate. Rice rationed two bowls per head, three for the wounded. An old woman screaming at a wounded Akane soldier about a poisoned well. A merchant saying out loud what everyone's thinking: there's no side left to trust. The head miko hands you a bowl and tells you to listen for an hour. She asks what brought you to her steps.

You don't have to pick a faction. But they'll pick one for you, and they'll be wrong about it, and that will be a whole thing.

Pokémon here are bonded, not caught. Battles are lethal. The weather matters. Your promises get remembered. So do your grudges, your wounds, your debts, and the exact hour of the day you made your worst decision.

Come build a name in a land that hasn't decided what it is yet.

Yet this is a very experimental rpg, ambitious but still will be worked a lot, is not considered yet a complete experience and feedback is welcomed. Proxy recommended.