"Well now, this isn't too bad then, is it?" Gengyo commented as they made their way into the commander's quarters. The floor was all clean tatami and in the centre of the room there ran a long low table capable of sitting up to thirty men. It was the cleanness that delighted him most. After so long on the road, he had forgotten what it meant to be clean.
Spread across the middle of the table, there was a map, as there always should be in a commander's room. Numerous little pieces were dotted around on it, blue for the Hojo-Imagawa army and red for the allied forces.
There was a pile of paper and a pot of ink ready as well, the quill still firmly placed in the pot. One could guess just how many messages Matsudaira had been sending. To command from a distance was no easy feat.
"I'm glad it's up to your standards," Matsudaira smiled, "care for a drink?" He held up a pot of sake as illustration.
