Burning Fortress Playthrough: The Enduring Flame

Wandering the ruins of the Burning Fortress, Homura longs for serenity. But to deny his blade is to deny his existence. Can he attain peace within? Or will he forever be a slave to violence?

If you want to read an overview of the game mechanics, check it out here.

I’ll use a table included in the game as oracle, and a few pages from Mythic 2E for generating ideas.

Let’s choose and develop our character. I’ll roll on the character list.
Roll d6: 1 = Homura

What is Homura’s ambition? Let’s roll on the Ambition guide.
Roll d6: 1 = Serenity

How does he search for serenity?
Roll on Action table: 30 + 28 = Deny + Expectation

I’m going to tie this to his warrior background.

When the Fortress fell, Homura fell with it.

As fellow warriors succumbed to fire and treachery, he remained, steel in hand, back against the wall. As cowards fled, he stood.

When Yomi—the underworld—claimed their souls, it rejected his. The Curse seized it instead.

At first, death became pain. The Curse rebuilt him bone by bone, refilling all spilled blood, healing every burn. Then pain became a companion, and death a habit. Never a release.

In the past, Homura searched for glory and reputation through the sword. Descending from a long line of warriors, his identity was wrapped in his sheath.

After the fall and the Curse, an emptiness inside slowly consumed him, growing larger with each death and resurrection. Homura had honed violence into a reflex. He became a mindless weapon, striking without purpose. A soulless warrior.

Wandering the ash-choked ruins of the Burning Fortress, he longed for serenity. A peace within, a conclusion to a lifetime of war.

But to deny his blade was to deny his existence. His calloused hand trembled over the hilt of his katana. Drawing it, he felt like breathing after a lifetime of suffocation, but it did not fill him. Was that all he was? Born into violence and forever a slave to it?

Leaving it sheathed, the emptiness overcame Homura. There was nothing on the other side except weakness and denial.

Would he ever appease that terrible longing?

Let’s roll for our first encounter on the locations table.
D6: 1 = The Dungeon. Occupied by Sora, the Dog of the White Sun

(If you didn’t notice, that’s three 1s in a row. I’m just glad those weren’t damage or skill rolls.)

How do I meet Sora?
D6 on encounter table: 2 = They find each other in a moment of rest…

Lost in thought, Homura found himself before a descending staircase covered in soot, its stone steps eroded by blood and heat. The entrance to the Dungeon, a cursed place where prisoners used to mine Dragon Mineral with bare hands and bent backs. With the fall of the Fortress, it became a forgotten crypt.

The narrow maw leading down into the earth breathed a fiery breeze against Homura, daring him to enter. He did, adjusting the katana and wakizashi on his waist. The wind disappeared as he went down, leaving only a scalding heat. The only sound were the drops of his sweat sizzling as they hit the stone.

Crumbling walls released a faint smoke. Kanji marked the walls in a few places. Some were prayers, other were messages. Some did not make sense at all.

Iron cages lay shattered. Shackles hung from the ceiling, many still with long bones clamped, immobile. Slaves long dead, fortunate enough to earn oblivion. Homura couldn’t help but envy them. He was still imprisoned by his past and his restlessness.

The deeper Homura went, the more the hallways looped. Time stretched. Footsteps echoed behind when no one was there. Lanterns flickered without any breeze, mocking him.

After dozens of turns and passages, drenched in sweat, Homura stopped. He swiped his forehead and leaned on his knees, catching his breath. His vision slowly adapted to the half-light.

The circular room had smudges darkened by time on the ground. Dust hung in clouds over the place.

What is Sora doing?
Roll on Character actions, general table: 70 + 66 = Odd + Mundane

I’ll interpret this as writing and drawing on the walls. I’ve gone back and inserted them as foreshadow.

Kanji filled the entire walls, from top to bottom. A few were poems about war, loyalty, and hope, but most of them were nonsense.

A ronin with hair styled in chonmage—shaved top, long sides tied into a topknot—scribbled the kanji with a piece of charcoal, humming a song with no melody. He wore a scuffed white armor and, like Homura, carried a katana and wakizashi.

Do we know each other?
D6 oracle: 1 = Indeed…

What memory from the old days do we share?
D6 oracle: 5 = Harsh Training

The ronin turned, and Homura recognized him. “Sora-san?” he asked, frowning.

Sora stared at him blankly, then scratched the back of his head. “Do I know you?”

The Curse weighed heavily on Sora-san. “I am Homura. We trained together under Azumi-dono.” After all this time, he could not bring himself to drop the honorific. Even thinking of her made Homura taste blood. May a thousand yokai punish her in the underworld. “The Style of the Dawn. Precision without hesitation. The sun does not rush across the sky. Remember?”

Sora looked down at his katana, bemused. “I remember pain. Pain is how the body learns from mistakes.”

“Aye, Sora-san. Pain until the blade becomes our breath.”

Azumi-dono’s teachings had a way of burrowing into the mind, despite the Curse. Or maybe it was part of it. He shuddered at the flashes of sleepless nights, under chilly rain, with raw fingers and broken bones, but still perfecting their form. Steady sword. Hesitation earned more punishment. ‘Enemies do not care if you are tired, and neither do I.’

What’s their memory of harsh training about?
Roll on Action table: 47 + 92 = Guide + Trial

Even without a battlefield, war still raged in his blood, like any who survived their training. Except for Sora-san. Called the Dog of the White Sun not in mockery, but for his naive loyalty and devotion. The White Sun did not burn, it purified with mercy. Sora represented that with his hopeful and kind demeanor. Azumi-dono’s cruelty never pierced him.

“The Dragon Trial was your last one,” Homura said. “Azumi-dono put us around the Dragon Forge, naked, holding our katana in stance, as the heat blistered our skin. Each time any of us twitched or quivered, she fed the fire. She didn’t stop when the first student passed out. Or the second. They were left there to die, but you put a stop to it, didn’t you? You dropped your sword and carried them away, then gave them water.”

Sora-san scrunched his face. “They resented me for it. You and the others called me weak.”

Homura averted his eyes, ashamed. “Aye. Then sensei deemed you unsuitable. She said you lacked the cruelty of a true warrior. Remember your response?”

“Cruelty is the mark of a coward. A warrior is brave enough to show mercy.”

Homura nodded. “She broke your jaw before casting you out. Indeed, I considered you weak, Sora-san. But in that moment I admired you. You stood up for your beliefs even when all of us considered you a failure.”

Does Sora’s memory return?
D6 oracle: 4 = Not yet…

Then another action is required for it to happen.

Homura chooses to duel, but not to the death. He only wishes for Sora to remember his past.

Roll D6 for IPPON table: 4 = Is your purpose more important than your opponent’s?

Homura felt compelled to draw his katana, but for a new, different reason. It wasn’t to sate a bloodthirsty urge, but for a genuine desire to help Sora find himself again. It hurt Homura to see a fellow ronin reduced to a wandering ghost, buried inside the Dungeon that still carried the echoes of past torment and suffering.

That conscious choice brought him a measure of peace. Drawing his sword not out of compulsion, but out of understanding, felt liberating.

“Stand up, Sora-san,” he commanded. Sora obeyed, confused, eyes wide open.

“Did I insult you?”

“No, you have brought me clarity. I intend to return the favor.”

Homura squatted low, left hand on his sheath, right hand with a light yet firm grip on the katana hilt. He lowered his head and closed his eyes, concentrating on Sora and their surroundings, slowing his breathing. His shoulders relaxed. He inhaled, preparing to strike.

The Dragon’s Draw was a technique that unsheathed and slashed in a single explosive move. Homura’s body accumulated heat like a dragon awakening. Body, breath, and blade united in perfect union.

A skill honed with thousand of hours under Azumi-dono. She also taught them how to counter it. That knowledge existed deep in Sora, and Homura expected it to surface.

The clouds of dust became still. At the end of the inhale, a swish of steel and a hiss of steam. Homura flickered. A dragon roared, flying against Sora, all fire and fury, then vanished. Homura appeared behind him. His katana slid home again. The dragon went back to sleep. Homura finally exhaled.

A thin slice unfolded on the wall in front of him. It expanded into a perfect slash that cracked the wall from ground to ceiling.

Homura turned. Sora-san was crouched, wakizashi and katana in his hands.

The deflection had been perfect.

Sora put his swords away and laughed. “Homura-san, it pleases me to see you well.” He bowed low to the ronin. Homura bowed even lower.

“Why are you here, Sora-san? What were you looking for in this cursed place?”

Roll on action table: 89 + 14 = Suppress + Comfort

“The entire world is cursed now, Homura-san. People I loved are gone. The shogun’s greed destroyed everything I knew. I wanted to run. To hide. As the Curse fragmented my mind, I descended into this darkness to simply… forget. The deeper I went, the more the world above slipped away. The silence and the darkness comforted me. I was losing myself, but it did not matter anymore. I came here to be buried, not to heal. Why was I cursed? There is no answer. It is a random misfortune. You were right—I am too weak.”

Homura’s shoulders sagged. “It is my eternal shame to make you think that. You showed strength when it mattered the most: when someone needed it. I regret I could not see it before.”

Sora smiled. “Then it is time to leave it all behind, Homura-san. A moment of shame does not warrant an eternity in disgrace. We are haunted by the Curse. Let us not be haunted by our mistakes.”

Homura bowed again. “You have my gratitude. Will you remain here, then? Do you still wish to forget? I will not judge you.”

D6 oracle: 6 = Impossible…

Then he has a new ambition. What is it?
D6 on Ambition table: 3 = Protection

Sora shook his head. “I have run enough. It is time to face this cursed world once again.” He stood taller. His white armor seemed to glow. “You have showed me I can still make a difference. Maybe that is my strength. I will help the Bearers of the Curse and those who cannot protect themselves.”

Sora, despite the Curse, the ruined world, and the loss of everything he knew, still retained his gentleness. Broken and fading, but still kind. He did not lose himself. He managed to protect his essence. The White Sun shone bright in a dark place.

Like Sora, even bearing the Curse, he aspired to keep a deep part of himself intact. Hopefully, a good part.

Maybe he did not need to extinguish his past to attain serenity.

“And what of you, Homura-san?” Sora asked. “What is your intention?”

“I am restless. I seek stillness. Serenity. Yet I fear I will not reach it.”

Sora shrugged. “Perhaps it is not a destination.”

Homura realized his hand rested on the katana, but he did not feel an urge to draw it. His muscles longed for it, but his soul was quiet.

Aye, perhaps not a destination.

Will they join forces and journey together?
D6 oracle: 5 = No…

As the heat increased in the Dungeon, Homura felt it was time to part ways. “I wish you well, Sora-dono.”

Sora opened his mouth in surprise, then gathered himself, stifling a smile, but his eyes glinted with mirth. “I hope we meet again, Homura-dono.”

They bowed to each other, and like in a dream, time slowed down. Homura blinked. He found himself in the Dungeon’s entrance.

Reflecting on the path
Roll d6 on table: 2 = Could this battle have been avoided?

Homura walked away into the ruins of the Burning Fortress, pondering on the encounter. He did not have to use his sword, but he was glad he did. The confrontation helped Sora find himself again.

As he took in the Burning Lake and its rivers of molten rock, Homura realized that to avoid his past was to avoid a part of him. His past was part of his present. To avoid a battle when necessary was to bury himself in denial.

Serenity was not a place.

It was not a journey.

It was a decision. A mindful choice that had to be made repeatedly.

With time, he could let go of the hatred and bitterness toward Azumi-dono. If she taught him one thing, it was that repetition bred mastery.

His past was an enduring flame that refused to fade.

Instead of fighting it, he would tend to it.

Notes

I absolutely loved my time with Burning Fortress, and I hope it shows in the writing.

It took me a few days to write this piece. I am a slow writer, and sometimes it takes a lot out of me, but it always leaves me content. Interpreting the random table rolls took some time as well.

Using Mythic and the game’s oracle made the writing very different. The tables led to choices I wouldn’t make without them.

I’m sorry if things didn’t turn out cohesive enough for a proper short story, but that’s the effect of random tables and oracles. I’ve been reading feedback from other places and playthroughs, and people reading these seem to prefer the random aspects. Which makes sense—if they wanted short stories, they would them instead of RPG actual plays.

So I plan to lean more into the chaos instead of guiding the story.

Please don’t take this playthrough as an example of the game’s writing. Burning Fortress has amazing setting, lore, and characters, and this is simply a well-meaning effort to interpret them.

Thank you for reading. All feedback is very much welcome.

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