********************The Legend of  Lujen********************


A Ranma ½ Fanfic
by Luis Majluf and Jennifer Yi
Notes and Info at bottom.

Prologue

"Be Careful, child, or you will burn yourself with the fire."
"But I love fires, grandma!"
Little Daisuke sat next to the fire, captivated by the dancing flames.
He squealed in delight as they twirled and battoned around, rising and
falling to their own special beat. The Old woman, on the other hand,
was pretty worried about the child. *Why isn’t he more like his sister
Hikaru?* she thought.
She looked at the little boy, and the girl who sat couple of feet
behind him, who was watching her brother.
"What must I do to keep you from burning your little hands?" she
finally asked.
The two children lifted their heads and sat pensive for a moment.
Finally something clicked in their eager little minds, and they cried
in unison, "Tell us a story, grandma, tell us a story!"
The old woman smiled at the precocious little children, and said,
"Very well. Hhhhmmm.... what shall I tell you?"
"Tell us the story about the Dragon Slayer!" cried small Daisuke.
"No, grandma! Tell us the one about the prince who rescued the
beautiful princess!" countered Hikaru.
>From then on, it turned into a fight to see which story got to be told.
The gnarled woman chuckled.
"Calm down children, calm down. You will overwhelm this old woman if
you keep it up!"
The two little souls promptly fell quiet.
"Better. Now listen carefully, for what I am about to tell you
actually happened."
"Really?"
"Yes, really, children. It happened not very far away from here, if
memory serves me well. A story of brave warriors and beautiful
maidens!"
Both children beamed at this.
"This is what I call the Legend of Lujen... Listen carefully now... it
all started way, way back, when I was young...."



Chapter 1: A Sword for Salvation

Ranma was woken up unceremoniously by a rough shove. Having had his
dream perturbed, a voice reached the young man's ears, "Wake up, Boy!
No time for slouching!"
He knew that voice and wished the body that acompanied it would go
far, far away, where it could not bother him. He rolled around in his
sheets and said, "Aw, pops, don't bother me. Come back later, when I'm
less sleepy."
"Boy, I told you to get up!"
An even rougher kick pushed Ranma's rump unto the cold stone floor.
Straw fell along with Ranma’s body from the bed, littering the floor.
"Yowch! You didn't have to do that!"
 Genma looked at his son with a disaproving look, "Stop whining, boy.
Why, when I was your age, it was sheer luxury to sleep in a bed!
It’sunep already, anyways."
Even in his semi-comatose state on the floor of the room, Ranma
decided it would be better to get up rather than to listen to one of
Genma’s sermons, so he rubbed his eyes and groggily picked himself up.
He stretched, and started heading towards the door.
"Ok, Ok, I’m up."
"That’s the spirit! Now go outside and start your practice, or you’ll
never become a good warior."
Still sleepily, Ranma answered, "Yeah, pops, whatever you say."
Ranma grabbed his sword, which was resting beside the door, and exited
the room.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The blades struck each other with might, as the fighters battled each
other. The fighters were both young men clad in leather armor,
sweating heavily. They each took a step back and eyed each other. They
were both tired, and their chests were heaving from the physical
exertion of lifting the heavy swords. One of them spoke out, "You’re
sloppy, Saotome!"
"You wish, Marcus."
They were both inside a clearing,, filled with young lads similarly
attired, practicing their swordmanship. Nearby was a quaint
medieval-type village. Encompassing everything were forrests of tall,
green firs, and towards the horizon, white-caped mountains. Yet the
most imposing sight was that of the stone castle which lay a few
hundreds of meters away; a stamp of power of the german king who
governed it.
A horncall was heard over the mock battlefield, and everyone lowered
their swords and stopped fighting - practice was over. The young
knights-in-training had held one of their common sparring practices,
prerequisite to becoming a knight of King Kruger’s army. 
"I wonder when we will end all this bull and do the real thing," Ranma
thought, "After all, I am the best in the class. I’m sure I could
probably take on most of the guys out there who call themselves pro-
easily."
Ranma walked towards his opponent, Marcus, and shook his hand.
"Your parries are getting better, Marcus," Ranma said.
"I suppose you ain’t half as bad, Saotome," Marcus answered.
Ranma just laughed. They both knew that even though Marcus was among
the top students, Ranma was the best. They each stood beside their
swords. Their weapons were almost as tall as they were. Marcus
preferred a longsword, but Ranma used his double-edged broadsword.
"Actually, Ranma, your slashing technique is great. I can’t believe
how fast you are able to swing that thing."
"Did I just hear a compliment coming from the unbeatable Marcus
Haffler?" Ranma teased.
"I suppose so. But how can you manage so well that monster?"
"It runs in the family, Marcus. Why don’t we start heading back, or
we’ll be late for breakfast."
They slung their swords over their shoulders and started walking to
the castle, alongside the other warriors-to-be. They continued to
chatter.
"Did you watch Herr Gabriel’s scorkscrew technique?"
"Yeah, that looked unblockable."
It was as they were nearing the castle that the boulder hit. Ranma was
thrown back by the impact and the loads of dirt as the huge rock fell
on boy scant feet away and killed him. Throughout the clearing  huge
boulders the size of small men started falling, killing anyone who was
unlucky enough find himself beneath them.
"We’re under attack!" the Instructor bellowed, "run towards the
castle! Run for your lives!"
Ranma was still stunned from the blast, and raised his head to see the
the boy dead, below the boulder. Still gasping for air, he turned his
head again to see a sea of men, armed, marching towards them, ready to
plunge their swords into the defenders of the castle. And behind them,
the catapults, the brown towers guilty of this destruction. His
classmates fled around him, seeking the security of the thick castle
walls. Ranma couldn’t believe his eyes- his people under attack?
Strong hands helped him up and said, "Come one, Saotome, run!" Marcus
exclaimed.
The boys dropped their heavy swords and fled towards the castle, with
a sea of warriors at their heels.

Ranma was crouching quietly beside the door in the darkness of the
night. The attack from the kingdom of Larsstuff had been brutal and
unexpected. Even now the sounds of the invaders trying to defeat the
heavy wooden door to the castle and the clashing of iron against iron
could be heard in the background. Ranma stole a look into the room he
was spying on: The main hall was a tall room made of stone, with
tapestries depicting deeds of brave warriors adorning the walls. In
the middle was the large oaken table- King Kruger sat at the head,
with a stout countenance. Around him were his generals and advisors,
among whom was his father, Genma. The war council had recently
started, and the air was thick with concern and seriousness.
"Will they be able to take this castle, Wold?"
"No Majesty- we are pretty well prepared to repel their attack. They
should be pushed back by tomorrow noon. We are in no immidiate danger
as of now..."
"But?"
"The counties of Shtauffen and Warclor have fallen, lord, and the
others are hard pressed."
"I see. It seems this war will be a difficult one for our people.
We’ll need a miracle..."
*A miracle, huh? So it IS that bad...* Ranma thought.
Ranma had heard all he had to hear, and quietly stole away into the
darkness of the castle.

Ranma was sitting down in his room. Alone. The talk of the day among
all his friends had been the recent attack of their kingdom by the
nieghboring kingdom of Larsstuff. They had mourned for the unlucky few
who had perished in the initial attack, and talked excitedly about the
upcoming war in which they could possibly have a role in. Even though
they had all been bragging about how they would beat them back, and do
this and that to them, inside, barely skin-deep, they were all scared.
Nobody had told them what the current situation was, but they could
see it in the guard’s faces. And it was no good.
	*I guess I’ll get to test my fighting skills after all* he
thought.*What must it feel like to be in actual battle, where a slip
of the sword does not mean a point towards your opponent but bloody
death?*. He frowned and his eyebbrows dipped in heavy thought.
Unfortunately, though, his mind started to wander in typical ranma
fashion. *I wonder how it would be to fight without sword and
armor...haha, what a thought! Going into a battle barehanded, with no
weapons? I think pops once told me of such fighting... "Martial Arts"
he called them... said some eastern goofballs practiced it..." Ranma
realized he was wandering again, and mentally reproached himself,
*Concentrate at the matter at hand, you fool! Musn’t divagate... What
can I do to help. Our situation is bad... Damnit, what can I do? The
kingdom is in trouble. I know I must do something, but what??? We need
something to tip the scales...something which , unfortunately, I can’t
provide. I know I’m good, but an extra man on the fields won’t make a
difference. What if... naw, how could I ever think of such a thing.
It’s just an old wive’s tale. But if such a thing were to be true...
man, we’d give them hell! As I see it, it is our only hope...*
A little part of his mind, the one which handled reality, asked, *Are
you crazy or did you just drink too much grog tonight?*
The other, larger part of his brain, answered, *It ain’t as crazy as
it sounds. It actually did exist- there are records of it. I just have
to find it. I must try,even if I may not succeed...*
His thoughts were interrupted by the creaking of the wooden door. A
crack of light entered the room with the figure that came in.
"How did it go, pops?"
"Not good, son. We will be having a hell of a fight," Genma answered
as he sat down.
"I see..."
Genma was one of the king’s mlitary advisors. In his youth he had been
a great soldier, although several wounds had made him leave the
battlefield, in body even if not in soul. Still, he had taught his son
Ranma all about the art of Sword Fighting.
Genma noticed that his son was unusually pensative. This in itself was
extremely strange, since as the word went around, Ranma usually used
his sword to think, and not his head.
"Hhhmm... What’s on your mind, son?"
Ranma looked up. "Huh? Uh, nothing!"
Yet as he said that, Genma identified the determined look of the
Saotomes in his son’s eyes. *He’s up to something...*
"Uhm, I gotta go, pops. I have to do something, with Marcus."
*Barely four hours before sunup? Something with Marcus? My arse!*
Still, he let him go. "Very well. But be ready for your morning
practice, son!"
"Don’t worry, I will."
As Ranma started to leave through the door, Genma said, "Son!"
Ranma stopped in midstep.
"Yeah?"
"Whatever you do, make the Saotome School of Indiscriminate Sword
Slashing proud."
*Has the old geezer read my mind?*
"Uhm, yeah pops. Bye!"
"Goodbye, son."
Genma watched his son leave through the door, and wondered what would
become of him.

It was still dark. A figure crept through the darkness of the
underground hall, with a pack strung to his back.. Suddenly, a light
shone on the figure’s face.
"Where do you  think you’re going?"
"Marcus!"
Ranma pushed away the lantern which Marcus had shoved into his face.
"Yes, it’s me. Where are you going?"
" I’ve gotta do something, Marcus. I-uhm... need to go to the
outhouse."
"In the middle of the night?"
"Hey, when you gotta go, you gotta go!"
"With a traveling pack strung to your back?" Marcus asked incredously.
"Traveling pack? What traveling pack?!?"
Marcus looked at him with a you-ain’t-fooling-moi face.
"The one you have on your back, perhaps?"
"Oh, that! It’s just my.. outhouse literature, you know. It can take a
long time, sometimes..."
"And your sword as well? To shave your inexistent beard, I presume..."
"Uhm... not a very convincing excuse, huh?"
"Not at all. What are you planning?"
"I have to do something. To help our people."
"What are you talking about?"
"I overheard the war council earlier. Times are bad, and they think
we’ll last a couple of months, max."
"And what do you think you can do about it? Go out and fight their
whole army?"
"No, Marcus, of course not. I ain’t crazy. Listen, have you ever heard
of the sword... Souledge?"
It took Marcus about a second and a half to fully register what Ranma
had said.
"I could’ve sworn I heard you say 10 seconds ago you weren’t crazy,
Saotome."
"No, I am not. If what the legends say is true, that sword will make
any warrior invincible. Imagine what would happen if we had its magic
power on our side! We could turn the outcome of the war!"
"Aha," Marcus said, playing along with his obviously out-of-his-mind
friend, "And you say you were commissioned by our king to find this
sword?"
"Uhm.. actually... no."
"Just as I thought! Now, GO back IN!"
Ranma seemed determined. "Sorry. I can’t."
"You won’t be able to sneak away. You’ll be killed by the enemies that
surround the castle!"
"Don’t worry about that, I know a secret exit."
"Big deal! Then you’ll be slaughtered a mile away from here. I will
not let you go off into a suicide mission! If you go one step further,
I’ll yell and warn the whole castle!"
Ranma seemed determine to press his point, but after a while of
reasoning his features gave way from determination to acceptance.
*Maybe he has seen the foolishness of his quest* Marcus thought.
"Yeah, you’re probably right, Marcus...let’s go back." Ranma said. His
voice was less vibrant and and less stronger than before.
"I’m glad you are reasoning, Saotome. A good change for that hard head
of yours."
Marcus turned around and started to walk when something hit him on the
head. Hard. The last thing he heard was Ranma’s voice, seemingly very
far away, saying, "Sorry, but I have to  do this..."
Marcus’ last thought, on the other hand, was, "When did Saotome learn
to lie so well?"



*******************************


Author’s Notes

Hiya! Welcome to the Legend of Lujen©, our newly created fan-fic.
Actually, it’s our first ever, either individually or in conjunction.
"What the Hell is happening???" You might ask.  Well, it’s kinda a
crossover between our well-known and loved anime Ranma ½, by Rumiko
Takahashi, and a very popular and exciting 3d fighting game a la
Virtua Figheter (but 50 MILLION times better, I assure you) called
SoulEdge (It was released in the US as SoulBlade, for those who don’t
keep up with the outside world). We wondered what if- what if Ranma
was Sigfried? If Shampoo was Taki? What if their stories intermingled
and it was the Ranma characters who were looking for the legendary
sword, and not the original game characters? The basic plot was taken
from SoulEdge, although individual stories and the way they interacted
had to be changed radically (we couldn’t have Ranma assasinating Genma
in cold blood, now could we?).

You could basically define it as a very loose crossover. For those who
are wondering, when the heck is this taking place, the answer is
somehere around the 15th century AD (more or less) 

Chapter 2 should come out within a day or two. Others are still in
planning stage. You should see what we have in store for the other
characters...

Hhhmmm... what else? One little thing: English is not my native
language, so if you find an extremely stupid grammatical or
ortographic error please forgive my ignorance. I’d like to say the
same about Jennifer, but nobody’s truly sure which language she
started speaking first, as she seems to have more fluency in English
than in her own so-called native language.

Oh, yeah, I almost forgot: If you lay your eyes upon this story...
please tell us how we did! Even if you think it sucked and couldn’t
have been wrose, email us! Without your comments we will never know
what to change and get better. Take it as our fee, if you will.

Ranma ½ and characters are property of Rumiko Takahashi, and SoulEdge
characters and story of Namco. Everything else is ours, ours ours... 
Please don’t rip us off, and please don’t sue us...

P.S. Sorry about the sucky german names. In my limited frame of mind,
I could think of no better. So I lack imagination. So shoot me.

P.S.S. We are very open to suggestions. Please tell us your ideas. No
matter how stupid they may seem, trust us, ours are worse.

Luis Majluf
<98lmajlu@amersol.edu.pe>
Jennifer Yi
<98jen@amersol.edu.pe>

For updates, extra info, etc, visit this story’s homepage at:
<http://www.geocities.com/~ollantay/lujen/lujen.html>






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