A/N: This is a just an odd, semi-self insert, semi-OC idea I want to work on as something to write between other projects and get myself back into the habit of trying to write a little bit daily. Rather like, perhaps Ranma: The Second Time Around but from the perspective of someone thrown into the Ranma universe. This was just a time sink project during some down time at work, or when I was particularly bored at home. Wrote in just a couple days, and haven't really proof read it in detail. I'm trying to get my muse back and this seemed like a fun little project to work on.

Copyright disclaimers: Ranma ½ is the intellectual of Rumiko Takahashi, SHOGAKUKAN, and is distributed in the U.S. by Viz Media.

I wish I could say it had been a heroic death, like the stereotype in some of those manga. The protagonist jumps in front of a semi to save a child from injury. Then for his heroism he is sent to a magical world where he can be the hero of his own story. Usually a fantasy setting, and he is reincarnated into that world. Memories intact and all.

I can't say I was so lucky, wasn't a heroic act for starters. I was on my weekly grocery run when something fell from high up on a window ledge came hurtling down and smashed right into my head. Must've been a heavy something because all I knew was pain for a fraction of a second. Then blackness.

Once heard that a meeting between a pipe and Mama Cass' skull improved her vocal range. Just an urban legend, but would that I could be so lucky. Something smash me in the head and I just get a headache and a concussion. Nope, I have to be the kind of guy who gets smashed in the skull and dies.

Or maybe I was put into a coma and I dreamed everything as a coping mechanism. Don't know, just know that one minute I was on my way for the weekly food run, and the next it was dark, then I woke up into … well, I couldn't call it Hell exactly. But damn weird leading someone else's life, especially a fictional character's life.

Still, I'm getting ahead of myself, I think. I'll just try to start at the … new beginning.

So it was all blackness, then I found myself coming to in a very unfunny way.

"... boy."

{Oww … what hit me.}

Definitely aware of pain, almost nothing but pain. Told me I wasn't dead at least. Although the throbbing ache running through my skull, death might have been preferable at the moment.

"Get up boy!"

Someone was speaking, but it was far off, or maybe just wasn't reaching through the haze of suffering. Far more interested in soothing the people slapping the drums in my skull than someone who was carrying on.

"Boy, I said get up! You've taken worse knocks than that. Quit being lazy and get up."

{Oh gee, thanks for sounding concerned.} Who the hell is shouting at me anyway? Doesn't sound terribly worried. Maybe it didn't look as bad to outside perspective as it felt.

Then a hand slapped across my jaw, when I could only mutter a groan, then came the backhand on the other cheek.

{Ugh, damn bastard. Fine, since you're so worried about me.} Didn't know who this guy was, but sweet fried pickles he was an ass. No compassion for a poor person knocked near unconscious across the skull?

Tried to will my eyes open, they fluttered slowly. Light just brought more stabbing pain and the lids were just as quickly closed. Yanked down like the blinds at sunrise. Keep out the soul light of the Sun. It was evil and it burned!

"Ranma, get up and quit lazing about! We've still got a long way to go if we're going to hit those training grounds before midday! Besides, it's your turn to cook, boy."

Something about those words began to filter through. Alright, brain processing. Check. Concentrating through the pain? Check.

{Ranma?! The hell?}

Slowly, forced my eyes open again. The world began to return to focus but it only did so reluctantly. Someone was in my face, almost so close I could smell the stink of his breath.

{Woo … hasn't brushed his teeth yet, has he? Reeks like booze.}

Finally, the edges of my vision cleared and a face snapped into the viewscreen of my mind. Middle aged, skin was tanned and somewhat weather beaten. Odd, tight wire rimmed glasses on his face, with chords running around his ears. White bandana on his head.

Something in my memory was screaming about the familiarity of the codger before me. Well, that really wasn't nice, Dad was actually a bit older himself, and I wasn't a plucky spring chicken either.

Another memory came crashing violently into my musings and quite suddenly I felt my headache come wailing back in with a vengeance. My brain began to argue with itself. Memories that weren't mine, I think, played around and fought with the memories that were. I … think.

Suddenly it was all so confusing and palms went pressing into my temples to try and squeeze the pressure out. For some reason that always seemed to help when I had a migraine anyway.

Seeing this action the old fellow leaned back and an actual tinge of concern crept into his voice, or maybe I just misinterpreted it was compassion.

"Ranma, are you alright boy? Maybe you hit your head harder than I thought."

The memories of who I am, or who I was, or ah it was all so confusing. Why did that name sound familiar? It was right on the tip of my tongue, but then something cracked my rambling thoughts over the back of the metaphorical skull with a proverbial bat.

{Ranma, that's my name … duh. What am I doing, having amnesia?}

I was trying to sort it all out, when suddenly, impulsively and perhaps on long born habit my mouth ran on auto for a moment.

"Course I'm not alright, Pops! The hell were you thinkin' that fall into those rocks could'a killed me!"

The words seemed so natural and right for some reason. Though that really wasn't my speech pattern, and I wasn't quite sure what I was talking that way. I never called anyone 'Pops.' Sure, I might tease Dad and called him 'Old Man' but he's my old man. If I have kids, one day they'll do the same thing, I imagine.

Then more memories tumbled from the murking fog of my confusion.

I had been sleeping peacefully and deeply, heedless of the fact the sun was rising. Then suddenly I was flying through the air. Reflex took over and my body tucked and rolled. Center of gravity regained and eyes popped open.

The old man was already launching himself off the grass from the campsite to engage in the morning duel. We kept on the same line of fly as we collided. Fists and feet exchanged a short flurry.

Then the old bastard, in his usual manner, pulled a trick and snatched up my ankle and spun me about before we broke apart. I didn't manage to catch myself in time and then … oh crap, rocks!

Bam!

Darkness.

That would explain the extreme pain my head and my arms, must've shielded myself from the blow. Amazed nothing was broken, and my brains were spilled all over the ground. Thank the kami for the small miracles, ne?

Hrm, that was certainly not my normal mode of thinking. My mind was trying to fight itself still. My own self against myself. One series of impulses and memories against my own sense of identity. It seemed in the mists of pain, the impulses of, I suppose this body, were winning.

"Oh quit whining Ranma and get up. You've taken worse shots than that before. You did just as you were trained, tucked your head and let your hands and arms absorb the shock. And it'll take a lot more than those rocks to break your bones, boy. I trained you to be tougher than that.

"Now get up and start cooking. I'm starving."

Grumbling, I took stock of my body and ordered it into motion. Perhaps to show off that I was indeed made of sterner stuff, or perhaps on sheer muscle memory I flipped up and regained my feet.

Now, I'm quite certain I could leap up, but certainly not with the ease which I found myself doing so. That fact was an idle wonder, however. Stumbled a bit on the landing, and a fresh stab of pain for my trouble. Yet, I made it over to the fire to start the rice and what meager vegetation we had for eating.

{Old bastard had to too cheap to spring for more supplies. We don't find civilization soon, or go hunting, we're going to be out food by tomorrow}

I was momentarily confused by that thought, as I'm sure it came unbidden. How would I know the food supply? I'm pretty sure I was in the middle of my home town, walking on the sidewalk, not in the middle of God's country … wherever the hell this is?

Concentrating on the cooking stilled my worried rambling, however, and it seemed to quiet the ache in my skull. The internal answer to my query of why the hell I knew that name seemed to be refusing to be forthcoming. The harder I tried to reach for it in my memories, the more my head hurt.

There were far more pressing questions in mind though. Like why the hell was I in this Ranma's body? How did I get here? Where is 'here?' And all the other fun things. No answers seemed to be coming out of the ether so I gave up the search for now.

My stomach, Ranma's stomach, whatever, it was rumbling and wanting filling. At least the normal functions of the body I was familiar with seemed to all be there. Hunger I could deal with. It was the most basic and primal of all needs, aside from perhaps breathing which the body did just fine on its own without me worrying over it.

Operating on the skills which seem to have been learned on the road and came without my coaxing, I put the two tin lunch boxes by the fire. Filled with a portion of rice and water, and fanned the flames to they would burn a bit hotter in the extra oxygen. The task was strangely familiar, but at the same time relaxing.

Familiar was good. It wasn't familiar to 'me' but it seemed to be familiar to Ranma. Well, I guess if I was going to be him, better to be relaxed and calm than panicking about this whole situation.

Keep my mind from stressing and eventually this damned headache would go away, I could hope at least. Then I could begin to ponder through this. I'd do much better considering my circumstances with a rational mind than an uncentered one.

The memories for this person seemed to come much more quickly than my own, so I turned myself to what would come rambling forward. Let myself see if I could glean something useful from it.

"Is the food ready yet?"

{Does he think with anything other than his stomach?}

"Geeze, Pops I just started cookin'. Would you let it get at least half way done first? I'm hungry too you know? Fussin' about it aint gonna make it get done any faster."

My mouth seemed to enjoy running on its own, or perhaps the words just came out freely since they were the natural tone for this body? Oh well, less trouble to just let it ride for now.

My own memories seemed to only come in random flashes, and the ones of this … life? Seemed to come with comparative ease. Might as well turn myself some questions, if I could draw forth the answers.

{Who am I?}

Ranma Saotome.

{Well that answer came quick.}

I began to probe for other memories of relevance. Such as who the bald one was? Apparently he was my, err Ranma's, god this was confusing; he was Genma Saotome, father to this person who I was, or was currently taking up space within.

We were on a very long training trip, running around in China currently. We'd been together for the earliest memories I could piece together. No thoughts came to mind of Ranma's mother. Although something about all this was still sounding very familiar. I hated that tickling feeling of knowing a piece of information, but it couldn't come forth when bidden.

I most certainly am not Ranma, but I am certainly occupying his body. His memories are coming up to me without any difficulty pulling them forth. Wasn't reincarnation supposed to wipe your mind and start over?

For that matter, wasn't it supposed to restart the whole damn thing and I'm supposed to be put back in a new body. Preferably human and in at least happy conditions, if not the most comfortable.

Ah well, no answers to the why would be coming forth. It seemed so strangely natural in the current situation. Having been on this trip for most of his life, Ranma must have been acceptingly resigned to his travels. Those feelings were dominating my thoughts. Now I had to worry if I was going to lose myself in the whole affair.

Alright, training trip. Now why not try conversation with the only other human being present. Since the natural manner of speech came out so easily, I tried giving voice to thoughts.

"So, Pop, where are you goin' again?"

The man grunted from where he sat, arms and legs crossed as he looked though he was trying to contain his impatience for food. His stomach began to grumble, which he quickly covered with a cough.

"It's called Jusenkyo, the place is supposed to be a superb training ground. Just what we need to take your skills to the next level boy."

My headache flared back up in reply to his answer. A memory was trying to rip itself free from the confines of the mental vault and smack me in the back of the head. It was on the tip of my fingers, i just couldn't quite get solid purchase on it. One thing I did get was a sense of impending dread. This place we were supposed to be going, must've been very bad.

A slow shiver worked its way up my spine, despite my best efforts to keep it contained. Genma raised an eyebrow but made no comment.

{Gee 'Dad' please don't worry yourself on my account.}

For the better he didn't say anything, probably. When I looked to the man, there wasn't a whole lot of respect for this man lurking in the periphery of my emotions. Now, I have nothing but respect … okay, that's a lie. Still, I respect my actual father, from another life. I certainly wouldn't consider punching him in the face.

Greeting Genma's cheek with the kiss of my fist was a not an unappealing thought. I suppose being willing to punch your teacher was kind of a given for martial arts. Ranma would certainly have no second thoughts. Memories came along unbidden of many, many moments of … let us call them 'father-son bonding.'

Where said bonding involved fights over food, bathing supplies, or whatever was in short supply at the time. There were many happy memories of hugging, read grappling, and good natured punches and kicks, meant to leave a last reminder of annoyance.

Yeah, these two fought, a lot. However odd, it was the nature of their relationship as parent and child. I got an odd tingling of affection for the old man. Least there was that. For all his shortcomings, Ranma still loved the fool, if only out of necessity. He was all that my current self seemed to have in the world.

It was very weird being attached to something, and trying to be clinical about it at the same time. With a snort I just shook my head and checked the rice.

"Hey, Buddha, the rice is done."

That insult came out rather impulsively. I wonder, if I tried to control my manner of speech, would I hurt myself? It was going to take some practice to keep from letting my mouth run loose. I had a habit of trying to be tight lipped, not free flapping. Seems Ranma had no such qualms.

The man to whom the rudeness was paid seemed to give it no mind. I could only blink as he teleported beside the fire. Snatching up the tin box by the lid, he was quick to bunch up his blanket and take hold of it. The lid snapped off and his chopsticks went to work in a hurry.

Even if it was a common sight for Ranma, I could only blink slowly. It took my stomach's insistent rumble to snatch me back to what I was doing. Letting habit take off, soon I was eating with no better table manners than the old man. Least I could trust this body to function without terribly much prompting.

Once every possible grain had been consumed, Genma called for a quick warm up practice. Thankfully, it wasn't an all out spar. While it seemed habitual things came easily, I didn't want to trust those instincts in a real fight.

New body, I haven't even given it a real test drive. Although, I think this particular vehicle was already well driven, unless we want to call them rigorously tested preinstall features.

What Genma considered a 'lite' warm up likely would have killed me, well the other me, whatever. It was a fight to make myself get up and jog a bit to hit my daily thirty minutes. Despite his middling years, Genma was obviously in far better shape than I'd been, or would ever be. Ranma obviously was well, despite the lite sheen of sweat from warming up the muscles, I wasn't even panting.

Least he was very well exercised, I hope the habits that had shaped this body were easy to stick to. Whether it was forced on me or it came naturally. If I act in this flesh like I did in the old one, I'd break routine very fast.

With the kinks from sleep worked out, the campsite was packed away and we were off at a run. Genma would not slow down, no time to waste. I was again glad he'd forced Ranma into very good shape, because I'm sure I'd be left on the side of the highway after the first quarter mile.

The pace was intense and began to defy common sense. Running cross-country, barefoot no less, and performing hard midair leaps over streams from heavy stone to heavy stone when we found them. It was as much training as it was travel.

If did give me a chance to begin practicing to get familiar with all the bells and whistles. I planted pretty hard a few times in my hesitance. Yet, I learned quickly just to trust the muscle memory and honed instincts that came with this body. It wasn't quite like learning to walk really, it was learning to walk in someone else's feet.

Genma barked insults the whole time.

"What's the matter with you boy? Are you getting sick? Well, I'll sweat that right out of you!"

{Damn slave driver. I've got a half mind to … }

Fighting it was pointless. I was just going with the flow by now. For the time being, like or not, facts of my situation were facts. I was a teenager, in the middle of who knew where China. And my legal guardian was this fool. Who had all the papers, money, and knowledge to any bank accounts or otherwise.

Although, when the memory came up of swimming to China, I'm sure it was safe to say we hadn't gone through very legal channels to get into the country. That being the case, doubtful we'd be leaving through them either. This man was obviously not the sharpest knife in the kitchen. People swimming the English Channel to France was dangerous, but it had been done.

Oh well, in for a penny in for a pound. Seems my situation was going to be permanent. At the very best, I had no understandable means of escape and I had no desire to test death. Wouldn't be fair to Ranma, if the actual 'he' ever returned.

Also the very real fact of what happened if I did die in this body? Go the real Hell? Or was it perpetual reincarnation? All things considered, I think I'm doing just fine for myself here. If only I could recall what was so nagging familiar about all of this.

It all came back to me. Finally, it all made sense. Well, none of this made sense, but I did know what I was trying to remember now. As soon as I looked out over the valley we were descending to, it all snapped into sharp focus.

I wanted to make my feet stop, but Genma had barked about holding ups and I could enjoy the view later. Wasn't a sightseeing trip after all, this was serious training business and all that.

I had died, I assume at least, and wound up waking up in the body of a character from an old anime I enjoyed as a kid. Granted, I could be hallucinating the whole thing. Some kind of coma dream or drug-induced delusion. Whatever the case, here I was.

I was going with the death angle as more likely. I mean, if I was going to go dreaming up a scenario why couldn't it be a lovely paradise with a beautiful woman? Or I could be the hero of my own epic adventure! I'd been reading and playing games far more recently than the last time I'd read a chapter of, or watched an episode of the titular character whose body I now inhabited.

Would have made for more sense in my mind that if I was going to dream something up, I would be traveling with some version of the Doctor right now. Fighting Daleks and Cybermen, or otherwise bungling up and getting kidnapped but that's not the point. Other things had left deeper impressions on me than an old manga and anime series I'd liked way back when.

So I was going with definitely dead. I was now trying to claw up every significant detail of the plot I could piece together. My headache was largely gone, for which I was glad. The memories I wanted came through slowly, but I was picking up important plot details.

The problem facing me now would be to tempt fate or not? Should I just let it all play out, or try to change what was to me the established timeline. I was struggling with that question so long I forgot about where I was, and just kept mulling it over.

Before I knew it, I snapped back into focus to the sound of someone speaking in very broken language.

"Oh sirs, you very strange no? This here legendary training ground, 'Land of Cursed Springs.' Every pool here carry very tragic story of what drown in spring many long year ago."

The poor Guide, we'll just go with that since we didn't even bother to ask his name, was only halfway into his little spiel when Genma decided to be Genma. My memory of this event was playing out before my eyes.

"Ranma, follow me!"

Leap, fly, land. He assumed a textbook perfect 'Crane' stance and waited atop one of the bamboo poles. Even though I knew he could do it, seeing it on a cartoon was one thing, letting it happen before your eyes was something else.

"Wait, sir! You no let me finish my very tragic story."

The poor Guide was very suddenly alarmed by Genma's foolishness. Couldn't blame the guy, he knew the true horrors of this place. It was his job and purpose in the plot after all. To watch over this place and instructor visitors in the nature of the various pools.

My chest locked up with alarm. It was make or break time. I'd been beating myself up for what I should do. Now that the choice was before me I didn't know what was proper. I was fighting the impulse that would have been to follow, and the preservation instinct not to join in and become Ranma-chan.

Genma stared and a frown creased his lips. "Ranma, what are you stalling for, boy? Not suddenly scared are you? Get up here and let's get to work."

Anger flared at that barb, damn this kid let himself get angry easy. Being a teen though, I guess it was only natural to be emotionally unbalanced. My mind fought itself on what it wanted to do and what my sense of preservation wanted to do.

Finally, with mouth screwing up I managed to bark out.

"Stuff is Pops, didn't you hear this guy? This place is bad news. What it we piss off the ghosts of this place or somethin'?"

Well the die was cast now. No Spring of Drowned Girl for me, or so I thought.

Genma broke into a chuckle, making it sound more derisive than amused. "Ghosts? Don't make me laugh boy."

{Too late, idiot.}

"These's nothing to worry about from ghosts, but you're going to be worrying about me if you don't quit being lazy and get up here."

All three of us stared as a sudden SNAP broke Genma off mid taunt. The pole he was resting on gave a very ominous crack and then the fibers broke completely. The man lost his balance in the shock and went plummeting into the water below with a grand bellyflop.

All I could do was sigh, and so history plays itself out in an unexpected manner. While the Guide reached into a bag he had been carrying and pulled out a sign with various characters on it that were indecipherable to me. I had a good idea what the meaning was though.

"Oh, poor sir, too bad. You fall in 'Spring of Drown Panda' very tragic story of panda what drown in spring fifteen hundred year ago. Now whoever fall in spring, take body of panda."

Figures we'd be repeating almost beat for beat. Except when the panda shot out of the water, I wasn't very shocked. The great bear, gi hanging open, and glasses dangling from one ear gave a confused sound. Then locked eyes upon me.

"Hey, Pops, I tried to warn you." A frown crossed my lips, I didn't like the gleam in his eyes. "Old man, what are you thinkin'? Don't you dare."

He shot off the new pole he'd balanced on and hit the ground. One hopped it over to me and soon I was in combat with my father, well in this life anyway, wearing the skin and fur of a very large panda bear.

My ability to trust in Ranma's reflexes was put to the test, while my brain raced trying to figure out a solution to this problem. Sadly, there was likely a quick way to end this and I'd recall it later. For all the good that did me now though."

"Cut it out, s'your own fault you moron!"

Never let it be said Genma was actually worse than his son, his level of 'serious' could just be wildly inconsistent depending on his mood and purpose. Right now he wasn't playing about. While I was doing a fair job of blocking or weaving, my moves were still rather clumsy and the those paws just got faster.

In a momentary lapse of concentration a quick backhand caught me to the cheek and I went flying. I yelled, wouldn't anyone? Part of me was also a bit distant to the affair. Watching it play out in slow motion and giving resigned commentary.

{Figures, looks like trying to fight the regular flow of the plot isn't going to work so well. I really hope this works better when we get to Shampoo's place.}

Already trying to plot my next moves and try for better results. Then cold water and the change? Well, really didn't feel anything at all. Maybe a bit cold for a bath, but I've had worse. It really took a minute to notice the obvious alterations in center of gravity and mass change.

"Oh poor sir, you fall in Spring of Drowned Girl. Very tragic story of young woman who drown in spring more than eighteen hundred year ago. Now whoever fall in spring, take body of girl." The guide chuckled a bit as he said that. Well nice and all he found something funny about this.

The pool was surprisingly shallow. That landing could've been very painful if it was must less in depth. As it was, I just sat up with a gasp and moved my hands on my body. A shudder climbed my spine at finding the new front end additions.

Yup, they were there. Fairly heavy and all of it. How did Ranma learn to get comfortable running around without a bra on, exactly? Oh well. More curious I grabbed the loose ponytail the hair had been pulled back to and glanced at it.

Black? Huh, so I guess that was an animator's choice rather than a real thing. I flicked it back and climbed out of the water. Now dripping wet and with clothing that would in no way fit properly. What'd I lose, five inches in height? Six? It was a significant different to be sure.

Well, I guess I could test my control. Anger would have been the proper response, and I could feel it bubbling to the surface. While I was feeling bit detached. My headache from this morning thumped in my skull as I tried to settle my mind from the two different states.

I still didn't get how I could be in a new body, part of my emotions feeling one way, and then part of me feeling the other. I was experiencing Ranma's reaction in a very real, powerful way. It was hard to keep it contained while I tried to reason my next course of action.

The panda leaned back and stared, the fire going out of him as alarm settled in. I let the anger out in a trickle, trying to keep it tightly reigned. I could recall what followed, sort of. There was a certain bandanna wearing, fang toothed, perpetually lost fool somewhere around here. I aimed to at least prevent THAT curse from happening. Would save me so much trouble later.

"P-O-P-S … " Snarling out each syllable with a drawl. "You overgrown thrown rug. This is your fault! All your fault, you stupid, greedy … I'll kill you for doing this to me!"

The voice became quite shrill as I put in every bit of forced rage I could summon up. Which didn't prove to be very hard. If I wasn't careful I'd really lose my reigns, heh reigns while I was in the flesh 'Wild Horse' herself.

That cooled some of my fury at a bad joke, kept it easier to hold in grip. I didn't want to chase the fool across the countryside if I could help it. I had a certain other moron to find and keep from turning into things worse than pandas and girls. If only to prevent that later headache.

Genma turned and quickly darted off, his sense of self-preservation coming into play. Damn bear proved quite adept at getting his bearings on his new body. He was both quick and stunningly agile. In fact, I somehow doubt he lost much of his natural grace at all.

For my part, I forgot about the fact the cuffs of my pants were dragging the ground and promptly planted my face into the grass at the first step. Growling a bit as I quickly shed the burden of their interference.

{So that's why he was chasing around the panda in just his boxers and gi jacket. Learn something new every day.}

I had another inner chuckle for a moment as I adjusted the top for comfort and took off in the direction the panda had gone. My anger was gone now for the most part. I could laugh it off and now just begin to test this form. Why not make a game of it.

The poor guide was just watched his strange customers ran off. I suppose he was feeling a bit confused by the oddness of us. Or perhaps he was having an inner chuckle? Ah well, he didn't get to explain his 'very tragic story' or the simple facts of our curses to us. We could get back to that later.

While Ranma-chan was off chasing Genma-panda, a certain dark haired boy, with a certain bandanna, heavy pack, and umbrella crested a hill and glanced down into the valley below. Little did he know what awaited him coming just over the rocks off to his side. Still just out of earshot, but closing fast.

"Jusenkyo, finally. I've found you Ranma. This time you won't get away from our fight."

How little he realized the chaos that would soon come into his life for one very stupid choice to follow his nemesis to China.

End of Chapter Rambling: So that's the chapter, hopefully it's a fun get going and we'll see where it come here. I'm going to try avoiding switching voice too often, since it can get disorienting and a story shouldn't really be inconsistent in voice. There is, however, a problem of telling everything from one character's POV and leaving everyone else out. So when appropriate I'll let the narrator swap to the needed audience view for information.

Now is the main character me the author? Yes and no, I'm trying to insert how I feel I might react to the situation. I'm borrowing my feelings where I think they work, and just make up other things where they might seem to fit.

For now, hopefully it's a fun chapter to read and you will look forward to more. And if not, this will hopefully at least get me working on my other, long neglected projects that are much more popular. Like Queen of Blades and The White Caped Ruroni.

Till next time,

Dorin