"I don't suppose that's your secret name, is it?"
Grinning at the remark as he sips at his tea, Yohei responds in turn, "Ho ho, no sir! I have always been a Yohei since the day I was hatched. Daveth Ashvale is a fine fancy name in its own way, but I think I'll stick with Yohei for now. Speaking of nicknames though, I did hear from the Captain that you are sometimes called 'Dragonborn", where did you happen to pick up a moniker so scaly as that one?"
Azami shakes her head, looking down at her own hand. She spreads the fingers wide - they are strong, ungraceful with thick fingers and rounded nails, tanned rough skin so very unlike the hands of the delicate women around her; Azami folds her fingers back into soft fist, dropping her hand to her side. "Honorable Curator, in the dream, the stone hands were my own. Unaffected by the bite of the koi, by the flame of the dragon. Chipped, but strong." My hands, my heart, they do not need to know the rest.
"If you can connect these visions--or my name appearing to Erodal-san, or the gaijin--with some meaning..." please do. goes unspoken, and if she meant for anyone to notice her use of a respectful title for Kyras, her tone does not carry any sign of guile or purpose.
Kyras betrays no nervousness at the question, answering quickly. "I suppose it's got something to do with my sorcerous powers. It's been said that all sorcerers gain their powers from a draconic ancestor. I don't personally believe that this is the case, as my father was an elf while my mother was human. If either of them had dragon blood, it certainly didn't show. My father was a wizard, from what I hear, not a sorcerer. What comes naturally to me, he studied books and arcane rituals to learn."
There is more to the name than Kyras lets on.
Azami raises a brow at Kyras as she says, flatly. "You said a dragon wakes inside you. That you have the blood of a dragon in your veins. I saw your scales. And the acid. That the Fury wished to recruit you."
At the Shoto city house, earlier:
Craning her neck around to watch the flautist, Eru gazes at her like a girl smitten by a noble boy or celebrity of the opera stage. Just after the silence, and before Imuri begins again to speak, she sighs and breathes "Gosh she's beautiful. Your house is blessed, Imuri-san, to have so much talent and beauty" - she indicates the whole house, but is still admiring the musician - "here under one roof."
A means of knowing to what extent you can count on my family should we strike a bargain.
Erudima raises one perfectly arched eyebrow. "...Bargain?" she asks innocuously.
At the Shoto city house, earlier:
Rhon looks at the new musician with frank appraisal; a look not of prurient or romantic interest so much as a farmer evaluating livestock, or a fighter evaluating an opponent. His eyes linger only long enough to complete this survey, then return to focusing on Imuri's words, and the exceptional tea he is drinking. He speaks not, but nods when the princess asks her questions and looks expectantly at his host.
Kyras curses inwardly, the anger rising that she continues to press him. "It's more of a metaphor, really. The fire and acid are just my magic. Like I told you then, I don't. Know. Why! She wanted to recruit me!" His voice raised, for a moment his eyes flash black and then return to their normal green. "Forgive me. I don't mean to lose my temper." While he is facing Azami during this apology, it is clearly directed towards Tokine.
Yohei inclines his head to hear Kyras' response to Azami's accusations, but sees nothing overly suspicious about the sorcerer's story.
"Hey no need to get excited big fella, we're all friends here. Frankly if some criminal scumbags got a little bit melted it's no sweat off my feathers." Looking to Azami for her reaction to the warbarian's outburst, Yohei continues, "I think we can all agree that there's no reason for us to argue. As long as you don't mind coming along to the Palace with us, we should be good. If Tokine-san is uncomfortable realeasing you from her care, she is always welcome to accompany you." He gives Tokine a sideways grin, "I'm sure no one would object to having you present at any gathering Madame Curator."
Tokine looks down at her tea cup after this exchange. She watches the ripples across its surface, from the forces carried through the table by those across from each other.
She looks up to say something but stops. She gives her cup a tap that sets the tea to sway back and forth in her cup. Then in a slow, low voice, "I spent some time with with a Dwarven clan. They were fascinated with ore seams and mineral flows that carried gems from deep below. They said that where the mountain was forgiving, thick rich veins could be found that had flowed like water, and as a result, the Dwarves lived well. But where the mountain resisted and fought, the veins were small and intermittent like tears, or drops of blood. Dwarves would die trying to follow these small deposits into too tight spaces, they would die never understanding the reason for the mountain's fight. The Dwarves had a saying for this called, "Kiukku on vaarallinen kaivo taianomaista"
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Anger is a dangerous well of magic
"Before we decide that...I would like to hear more of this fight and the Fury's offer...were any towns people hurt?"
Imuri smiles appreciatively when the Princess praises the young musician. The song is called Heart's Desire. It was written by the warrior-poet Shoto Hyoma to lament a love he could not express. His childhood love awaited his return from a desperate battle against the Three-Footed Oni. He knew duty would take him away from this life, and his last wish was to sing to her one last time.
The courtier waits for the sadness of the story to sink in before sitting back and providing its ending.
In the end, the Oni killed all the men. The force that arrived too late to save them found his flute and his memoirs.
Upon the Princess' question, Imuri raises an eyebrow. Your entire journey here is to ask something of the Empire and its people. Surely you did not believe even abstenance from war would not require a price. Not in koku or favors necessarily, but every request in these lands must come with the expecation that a debt is incurred if it is not granted.
The room grows quiet. The musicians finish their song and then leave, excepting the young girl in the sarong. She sits on her pillow with a straight back and focuses on imaginary pieces of lint on her sensual, immacualte clothing.
The samurai begins again. Princess Solarion, I am honored to meet with you, and to assist you in any way I can with your time here. But three factions are asking for attention, and I believe at least one of them is making trouble within the city as they pursue numerous targets of opportunity. The way that you curry favor must change if you intend to persuade the EMpire to abstain from the coming war. Even if the Emperor takes no action at all, after you leave, great houses will vie for advantage with you and the other cultures. It is very rare for an Emperor to command the great houses forsake an advantage in trade, or the courts or in war. While He may not wish to involve the Empire specifically, someone must be left behind who can monitor the desires and requests of your noble selves. Most assuredly, the other two factions alredy plan exactly that.
Imuri's stare does not turn cold, but it does become very serious. You are not going to trust only the Sera house to look after your interests after last night, are you? Certainly you can see how broadening your influence here today can benefit you even in your absence.
"It is as you say, Imuri-san. I am not here in my official capacity as a representative of my house, so am not empowered to speak for the Matron, or any of the others, and can write no treaties or entrust any interests." Here she favors you with a smile that settles on you like a ton of bricks. "I can, however, speak most highly of the great Clan Shoto, and...'suggest' that we open negotiations with them, and broaden our trade with the good people of the empire." She looks back at the now-silent flautist, but still speaks to you. "I thank you for the lessons. All of them. They are greatly appreciated, and I will speak with Zhongyi and Aki before I leave."
Rhon nods at the Princess' words, then looks back at his noble host. "Tell me, Samurai; are the spiders in your house's mon a specific kind? Or just a generalization, a metaphor, a...a conceptual spider, if you will, and not one that represents spiders qua spiders." He leans forward, his fingers steepled under his chin. "...because the idea fascinates me."
Not even realizing it, Kyras responds to Tokine in Draconic. "Vayaatan kevukao tet-ha, kuh draaga tellarandum yashkitsin."
Shifting back to common, apparently without noticing, he continues quietly. It's hardly more than a whisper to Tokine, but the others would likely be able to hear it if they lean forward. "I was following a lead to my sister's whereabouts when a pack of brutes came at me from nowhere. As I was defending myself, eventually with assistance from Miss Portnoy here, an Erinyes came from above. Seeing as they kept calling her, 'The Dark Lady,' I imagine she was their leader. She... She mentioned my sister. She said that I would be of use to her, like Bethany. She offered an invitation to the Palace tonight if I wanted to learn more about where she is." His voice quakes for just a moment, and he pauses to gather himself. "I must be honest about something, something that I wanted to keep away from you and this place. There is something inside of me, ever since I woke up. It is powerful, and it is angry. Sometimes it changes me into a Black Dragon, sometimes Red. That's what she meant when she called me 'Dragonborn'." He is clearly talking only to Tokine now, ignoring everyone else. "It isn't something I want to be. Its power is vast and hungry and terrible in its rage. I woke up this morning after meeting you, and it was quiet for the first time since my Awakening. I don't want the Dragon in my veins, Tokine, and your presence keeps it at bay. If I go to the Palace, I would greatly appreciate your presence there with me."
Between Yohei, Kyras, and Tokine, Azami remains quiet; she's said enough this morning. Kyras' modest assertion had seemed utterly in conflict with the man she met in the alley, the man of black scales, arrogance and conceit, delighting in death. That he is part dragon does not concern her overmuch - was not Chongde also as he, and an honorable samurai? He must be like everyone else here - slippery of tongue and smile, beautiful words in his mouth like weapons. The Empire seemed to infect even the gaijin with this baleful trait; little irritated her more than the layered meanings of political intrigue she was often forced to dance through.
The corners of her mouth quirk at Yohei--somehow, he managed to speak straightforward and sideways in the same breath. She suppresses the smile into a half-scowl.
Tokine's words are an utter wash to her: dwarves? veins of ore? Did this have to do with the dreams? She listens, but finds little meaning in Tokine's words, and even less in the strange utterance she makes at the end.
When Kyras' words tumble from his lips, she glances at Yohei and nods, asserting that what he says is true insofar as she was involved. Azami notes the pain in his voice as he speaks of his sister and wonders just who Bethany Erodal was, and why she had Azami's old name. At Miss Portnoy the relaxation in her stance disappears as she straightens like a rod, narrowing her eyes. Her posture stiffens further as he mentions the red dragon, but still, she says nothing. What is there to say, as this man from her own lands confesses himself to the Curator like a strayed lover decries his behavior to his betrothed?
At least he has assented to come to the Palace. Yohei is much better at this than I. Azami looks to Rhon and the Princess - so far from Mamban- wondering what they must think of the Empire.
Leaning forward to listen in on the whispered Draconic, Yohei clears his throat and replies in the same reptilian tongue, "Kortesh zei vvrazrago tellarandrei vro sake grommm vayaatan tet-hon!"
Grinning at the Draconicly dictating duo, Yohei chuckles, "See Azami-san, I told you we'd find a good dragon at this tea party after all!" Fixing his eyes on the warbarian, he does his best to swallow his amusement and sound somewhat serious, "Kyras buddy, it sounds like you may have gotten yourself into the middle of something pretty wild, but our Captain, Takagami-san, he's a great man, he'll look out for you if you're straight with him. As for these Dark Ladies and Black Dragonflights, I don't trust them much. You stick with us and you'll come out okay, but if you go switching allegiances things could turn out kind of sticky for everybody."
Yohei gives Kyras a hard stare, but after a few moments, breaks out into another laugh, "I'm just kidding you man, you don't seem like the type to go in with that bunch of creeps, especially seein' as I'm sure you wouldn't want to disappoint the lovely Tokine-san here!"
The broad, charismatic smile of the Princess is difficult to absorb. Too wide a smile might be manufactured, to genuine a smile means they are unworthy allies. They seem like good people, may they benefit the Shoto here and abroad.
Imuri responds to Rhon with pride and thoughtfulness. This Empire, and the lands beyond have many spiders. Some are tiny and poisonous. Some are so large as to be hidden only by the forests and mountains. Some spin webs, some lay traps. All of them are industrious. All of of them are predators.
Imuri raises his eyebrows, an expression of pride. The same is true of a Shoto samurai. He may hunt, he may lay traps. He may be handsome or fearsome. There are many spiders. There are many weapons in life. A Shoto samurai trains to fight with them all.
Seeing an opportunity to change the topic, Imuri rubs his chin thoughtfully. I had a dream about a golden dragon last night. I suppose, this reality is not unlike dragons. Some are fearsome, some are merciful. All are masters of their terrain. Scholars capture spiders to study their webs, their poisons, their habits. And here within the city, some dragons are plotting to forge alliances, and some in the city are plotting to capture a dragon. The parallels of fate are fascinating, when you have time to focus on them.
Azami lets out a quiet, impatient sigh as Yohei joins the draconic discussion. One word she does understand, standing out among the rolling foreign syllables, is sake, and again she presses her lips together to avoid smiling.
Her mind wanders back to the earlier discussion of dreams and her family, her gaze far off and unfocused.
Tokine's lips press firmly together as she takes in Kyras' answer. When Yohei adds in about sake, she shifts her gaze and her eyes give a little smile. In common, "Those dwarves also liked their alcohol..and it gave their dialect a strange accent."
She also notes Azami's irritation. Tokine nods her head slowly to the thoughts in her head. Azami does not understand our words, but she took nothing from the story either. She stands like a mountain, firm in her mental protections, but mountains move...through shakes, wind, water, fire, and ice. She stands frozen at the top, I do not know if I can get to her, to help her, to move her...but like a glacier..I will try, even if it is ever so slowly. And Kyras too...our red dragon? If another attack comes for him, can we protect him here?...can he protect us?......can we save him.....?
"Well, one thing we can clear up. If no ill will is intended and with Kyras' blessing, I will releases him from my care...for the afternoon. I have matters to attend to at the Palace this afternoon in preparation of tonight's reception, both cultural and private. But upon leaving, I would like my bodyguard returned to me. I have been attacked twice on the city streets in the past day...and what should be a matter for the constabulary, through no fault of theirs, the unworldliness of my attackers has proved to be beyond their skills. I can not rely that wise and dear San Pen will always be with me at those moments"
"Kyras has proved himself capable of standing up to dangerous foes. He will be returned to the palace in time for the reception and any follow up questions you may have. I am sure your Captain would find this agreeable, seeing as my safety going to and from the Palace are in jeopardy."
She presents a sensible case and her voice is innocent yet firm. Her face has a hint of joy as she talks, but she does not grin or seem condescending. She only looks at Azami through the exchange, not even sparing Kyras a glance.
I will use Good Fortune on that roll..it was too pitiful
Kyras composes himself, returning to his usual confident self. "That certainly sounds acceptable to me. This city, as we have all seen in the last day, is quite dangerous. Tokine is very special and must be protected at all costs. I have pledged my own safety and life to protecting her and this Temple. When you are ready and at her pleasure, I will gladly come with you to the Palace."
Kyras offers an almost imperceptible smile to her, offering thanks both for the way out and for the respite she offers from the Dragon.
At Tea: The jackdaw outside suddenly seems to go sort of berserk. "CHYAKCHYAKCHYAKCHYAKCHYAKCHYAKCHYAKCHYAK!" it says. "CHCHCHCHCHCHCHJYAKJYAKJYAKCHYAKCHYAK!" Izumi opens the door to the quiet tea area where you all are seated, a cross look on her face.
The assistant Curator opens her mouth to speak, but only the jingle of bells comes out. It takes a second for everyone to realize that it is not Izumi who made this sound, but Tokine's glaive, which is suddenly missing from its stand.
"Izumi?"
Rhon's eyes go wide and he barks out his companions' names. "Earanthil! Gilly! Protection, no blood!"
Izumi looks across the room and her eyes go wide. She screams in terror and ducks back behind the door.
"You got it, boss." Gilly grabs his sigil of the Dawnflower and speaks a warding spell in celestial. Suddenly a shimmering wall of magical energy surrounds you all. Meanwhile Earenthil, the laconic pretty boy, stands up and is all business, swirling his hands in a strange pattern as he intones an arcane chant. His eyes are fixed on a spot behind you.
Yohei's expression turns from jovial to puzzled as he spots the strange black thing behind Izumi. He begins to speak, "What the-" but is abruptly cut off by Rhon's outburst and the young woman's scream. Grabbing up his longbow from its resting place at his side, he spins to face whatever horror has appeared at his back.
Kyras stands quickly at the mention of danger, intent on protecting Tokine. "Does burning an enemy with fire count as spilling blood?" He turns to see what the Westerners are looking at, moving his body in front of Tokine's in case of an attack.
The lightning-quick Yohei spins around with his bow at the ready as Earanthil's spell fires and the swift Kyras stands to defend Tokine. In the far corner of the room you all see a horrid, cackling-toothed monstrosity, like a bloated and many-eyed red fish covered in horn'd scales. Each eye rolls madly and is the color of jaundice. The thing is not much larger than a small dog and hangs malignantly in the air, its gaping maw gnashing wildly as it makes incoherent and horrid noises that sound like someone trying to speak abyssal while choking on their own blood.
There is the sound of bells, and from the ceiling of that same corner a man, clad all in black but with his head and face fully visible, drops from the ceiling, impaling the creature with Tokine's glaive and pinning it to the floor where it gurgles and croaks its last. Blood like tar pours out of the thing, soaking the area.
"Oh that won't do at all." Says the man in black. There is a weird smudgy blurring in the air and now the creature is no longer pinned, but skewered, and at the bottom of a small tub intended for old paint. The handle of Tokine's glaive is sticking out and up at a crazy angle. There is no blood on the floor. Not a drop.
The man turns to face the party. He is a slight and wiry gaijin, about 5'10", and with close-cropped black hair and dark eyes. His outfit is the kind worn by rogues and catburglars; form-fitting and strong, lined with loops and pockets. There is a curious symbol etched subtly in charcoal grey over his left shoulder.
He steps forward, his hands up in a nonthreatening gesture. "Not my favorite kind of entrance to make, I'm afraid. So gauche. So over-the-top. Terribly sorry, all of you." His speech is clear and precise and pleasant, tinged with a Mambani accent. "I am Banad del Lino del Covas. I am here to help. I am...very interested in art."
Azami's distant gaze focuses to a pinpoint, her mouth drawn downward in irritation at herself; already she is whirling to face whatever is behind them, her katana in her hand.
Azami raises a brow, sheathing her katana with a long-weary expression. "del Covas. del Solarion. All we need now is del Luna. How long have you been there? And what was that?"
"It is a Cacodaemon, probably sent to spy on us,...or provide for a grand entrance." Her voice is cold and holds no joy.
She moves to the beast and pulls the glaive free. The initial jangle of bells softens to a tinkling once the blade is pulled free. "Does your interest in art, always include taking what is not yours?" she asks of the newcomer.
Tokine finds a tea towel, and wipes the blade clean. The disgusting towel she tosses into the paint tub.
Azami raises the other brow to Tokine, wholly not expecting such behavior of the Curator.
It would probably be a low sense motive (since she makes no attempt to hide it) to know that Tokine is pissed and disgusted and it has nothing to do with the filth she just wiped off her connection to her Goddess! Yes..very, uncharacteristic!
Shaking his head in bewilderment, Yohei smiles at the stranger, but keeps his bow raised, "That was quite an entrance indeed Banad-san. How convenient that some strange googley eyed demon should appear just in time for you to appear from no where and do away with it!" He allows his gaze to shift to the oozing carcass, "What was that thing anyway?"
The xorn sits quietly, as is his way in groups, gazing at one than another of the tea guests.
out of the blue, speaking, apparently, to himself
I am rreminded of the worrds of the sage. I wonderr, arre we looking at the moon, the pool, orr the fingerr?
While Banad himself may be a perfectly fine fellow, members of House del Covas are known for being, if not duplicitous, but at least "selective" with what information they choose to reveal to anyone at any one time, since information is their currency, and giving it away is the same as a merchant giving away his product. If a del Covas tells you something for free, then that is information not to be ignored.
Banad looks at the harsh faces gathered around the table, then arches an eyebrow at Tokine. "...take what wa- but it's just a weapon, by the Three Stings! Funny, I never would have suspected you of being one of those types." He gives a little sniff, and glares icily at Azami. "Del Luna, I'll have you know, has been in Lanzhu for centuries. That's so well-known I won't even charge you for it." He shifts his glance to Rhon. "Isn't that right, Arthion?"
Rhon rolls his eyes. "Settle down, Banad, You have to admit you blew your entrance big time. Don't take your frustration with yourself out on us. And Madame Curator is a cleric, you idiot, her weapon is sacred, not just a stick with a big knife on the end. Or did the bells escape your notice, Journeyman? How will Milisandria react when I tell her you-"
"-you wouldn't dare!" Banad narrows his eyes and hisses at Rhon. After a moment, he begins walking across the room to the door. "Okay. Fine. Fine! I just dropped by to help. Honestly! I didn't have to. No appreciation from you people. And my House are NOT summoners, you can ask your friends "Rhon" and Eru, here, they'll tell you. But I see you'd all rather slay your own Daemons, be they physical--" he waves his hand at the paint tub "--or metaphorical." He fixes Kyras and Azami with pointed looks.
He stops at the door, straightening his shirt. "What I came to tell you, even though the Assistant Curator was most strenuous in her objections to my presence in this room and even though I didn't have to tell you, was that an art theft occurred last night at a Clan Sera-owned gallery. The painting was created by the same forces that created the one this temple contains. The gallery owner, her apprentice, and family, were all murdered." Here he looks significantly at Tokine. "It was perpetrated, I believe, by a tengu." He drops a white feather in Yohei's lap. It is identical in all ways to his own feathers, but for its snow-white color.
"This theft is a greater tragedy than you know, than even the brutal slaying of those innocents would indicate. These paintings are not just paintings. They are maps. They are recipes. They are instruction sets and guides. There are three others like them still in the city. Two are here. The third, I will deliver here within the next 48 hours. It will be in a scroll case bearing the crest of my House. This is what I was hired to do. I bid you all good day. Enjoy your daemons."
He leaves, slamming the door behind him.
"I've always thought they were jerks." Eru says with a frown.
Azami snorts, muttering to herself. "Figures. All these Houses, always posturing. All slippery."
Rhon smiles at Imuri. "Time! Indeed. Even being elven I, too, feel the pinch of time, lending urgence to my deeds, especially in these days when, as you say, dragons come forth seeking allegiances. Tell me, Imuri-san, hypothetically speaking, what would one hope for from an alliance with a black dragon?"
"What's the flute player's name, Shoto Imuri-san? Does she live here? I should like very much to meet with her later, if that is at all possible. I should like to have tea with her if I may." Eru continues to gaze dreamily at the flautist. The princess then says, without turning her eyes from the lovely musician; "Will you meet with Na-Perinel, Imuri-san? The silver dragon who has traveled with the paladine and clerics from Lesotho and Izmir? Who speak tomorrow night?"
Tokine deflates at the mention of the murders. That could have been us too...such violence..
After Banad leaves, she will turn to the group. "Princess, honored guests, my apologies at the disruption and my shameful reaction. This throws much more ink on paper that needs to be discussed. But please allow me to comfort my acolytes, I will be back shortly. Her face is composed again, but her eyes are rimmed in tears.
Kyras, could you please pull that tub from the room? I will see to it that it is disposed of properly." She moves quickly from the room with her head down.
She will go check on Izumi, get her explanation of the incident, and assure her that everyone is fine. She will instruct that a carcass will need to be burned and buried...off temple grounds. And that the acolytes should take to carrying staves or other forms of appropriate protection, based on their training. Yesterday's attack could be repeated, and we do not want to be unprepared.
When she returns to the room she is again the confident curator, she will pull a scroll tube from within her sleeve. "Dreams or not..at least this tangible and perhaps meant to be seen, as is true with all good art. One of these I acquired a few years ago, the other just recently. Our spy probably hoped that our conversation might have turned to these sooner, but I did not see the need till now. I am hoping Rhon, that you might know a bit more of what he spoke of..a map...a recipe...to where?..for what?"
She lays out two paintings. Very old looking...crude or perhaps minimalist in style. What catches everyone's eyes even form a distance are the use of colors that seem to shimmer off the page.
Banad is but a journeyman, coming up in the craft, and still over-dependent on his chronomancy. True masters, like the Magistrate Milisandria del Arroyo del Covas or the Master Spy Kylara del Miru del Covas are expert rogues first, and only use their time-bending skills to enhance their already-formidable acrobatic and rogue talents, turning themselves into physical prodigies of unearthly ability.
Kyras picks the tub up almost effortlessly, carrying it out to Akiku's location. He is quite pleased to do anything to help Tokine. "Akiku, can you direct me to where I might incinerate this safely? If you could do me a favor and bring me my sword and armor? I plan on leaving the Temple." At her crestfallen face, he smiles to cheer her up. "Don't worry. I'll be back soon!"
Azami snorts, muttering to herself. "Figures. All these Houses, always posturing. All slippery."
Eru gives Azami a pained look, as if the crimson-haired warrior had just slapped her.
Setting down his bow and picking up the strange white feather, Yohei studies it curiously, his concentration eventually broken when Tokine returns with the paintings. "Well, well, what have we here?" Entranced by the shimmering colors, Yohei slips the white feather into an inside pocket of his robes and leans in close to inspect the paintings. "So this is a map? Doesn't look like it leads anywhere I've traveled before! It sure is pretty though, what makes it shimmer like that? Magic paint or something?"