Katana Attack:
Damage:
Shocking Grasp - Touch:
Damage:
Then I'll 5' back to the other 'enemy' just diagonal and down from me. Taking turns between the two if I need.
Chongde frowns as she looks around, casting a glance over her shoulder at the gaijin. He was talented, at least. Dark eyes found her way to Azami, nodding in the other woman's direction, before Chongde whispered to her anscestors, "Mighty Shan! Hear your daughter, and give her power!"
With a burst of speed, and electricity, Chongde brought her katana around slicing through the air at the foul burakumin. Then just as quickly, her left hand, trailing arcs of electrical power launched also at the dishonorable one, not worthy of naming!
Reflex:
Initiative:
Daveths eyes widen as the Erinyes rather suddenly attacks him with her hair-rope leaping off to the side as best he can hoping to avoid the rope Daveth scowls a bit at his inability to see this coming, he'd hoped that the Erinyes' earlier inaction was simply due to him being of common blood but apparently she just wanted to catch him off guard... or maybe that recruitment shot just really pissed her off. "This is just MORE attempts at recruitment by assault, at least this time I'm being assaulted by someone who's at least somewhat competent!" Daveth sends a cocky smirk at the Erinyes as he begins planning out his next few actions.
@Daveth & DM DRA:
@DM DRA:
AC: 20
HP: 60/64
Actions: Vital Strike against opponent immediately behind her. Round 2 of +2 Vigor on katana. +3 to attack, 4x damage (before strength or damage bonuses) if strike hits
Azami grits her teeth at the slash of a katana across her back, and turns over her right shoulder, her blade sweeping through the sizzling smoke of the gangster’s burning flesh.
How would you like me to deal with a crit with Vital Strike? (if you want me to deal with it at all, since he might already be toast)
Vital Strike says: Roll the weapon’s damage dice for the attack four times and add the results together before adding bonuses from Strength, weapon abilities (such as flaming), precision based damage, and other damage bonuses. These extra weapon damage dice are not multiplied on a critical hit, but are added to the total.
Chongde's katana whistles past the dextrous burakumin, who just dances out of its reach. He sing-songs a taunt at her that gets cut off terribly as the magus samurai's electrical blast catches him and lifts him off the ground, cooking his blood in his body and killing him instantly. "Ha-ha / imperial scum / you couldn't hit / anyoooooaaaaaAAHAAHHHHCKKCKK!"
Kyras, you notice out of the corner of your eye that the dark-eyed mountain girl seems to posses not only great martial skill, but magical skill as well, as you observe her set up a thug with her sword, then fry him with primal, elemental electricity. This...is not a combination you recall seeing with any great frequency, and never in one so young. Why the girl cannot be more than 20!
@DM DRA:
I think you forgot to count the one that was already wounded, maybe. Black squares are at full HP, red are wounded, brick red are dead. No biggie. :-)
@Daveth: The Erinyes launches itself off the roof, pulling its bow with one smooth, quick action at the same time, and fires at you with a strange arrow; the fletching consists of three rows of three mourning dove feathers.
@Azami:
@Kyras, @Azami, @Chongde: As Azami cleaves her enemy in two, the sheer speed and ferocity of her swing startling to all present, you all suddenly see a terrifying figure leap backwards off a nearby roof, jetting up into the sky on enormous obsidian wings. Her beauty is terrible; black hair and eyes, and long, extravagant scars. The bow in her hands glows with infernal magic. She rifles an arrow down at some target on the roof she just left, and you hear a grunt of pain come from behind a chimney. From 80' up, she looks at you three. "Yes! Mortals! Keep fighting. I am very pleased with your skill!"
You all notice this woman, or angel, or demon, or whatever she is, is wearing elegant plate mail armor with a stylized black dragon on it.
Current Health: 35/45 - 18 = 17/45
Fortitude Save:
Seeing as I didn't make my save I'll just wait for the response to see what sort of horrible things happen to poor Daveth now that he has failed his save xD
Sama:
Imuri enters the tea house and seats himself at the best table for his purposes. If the table is occupied, he introduces himself and asks to join his new friend for tea. He listens to snippets of the conversation at his table while observing a few (unimportant) scrolls. He is sure to order a more expensive tea than those at his table, to affect an aire of station and ward off any claims of rudeness by those he joined.
Sama:
@Daveth:
A magic sleep comes over you Daveth, the last thing you see before you pass out is the Erinyes with her wings spread wide, grinning down at the battle beneath her.
Azami, Chongde, and Kyras: You all hear a *thud* from up on the roof where the winged lady was, and you see a man, also with wings, that was the unfortunate victim of her arrow. You cannot tell if he is alive or dead.
Sama: ** spoiler omitted **
Imuri enters the tea house and seats himself at the best table for his purposes. If the table is occupied, he introduces himself and asks to join his new friend for tea. He listens to snippets of the conversation at his table while observing a few (unimportant) scrolls. He is sure to order a more expensive tea than those at his table, to affect an aire of station and ward off any claims of rudeness by those he joined.
Sama: ** spoiler omitted **
The remaining Burakumin press the attack, though it is obvious their resolve is flagging. The two sorcerers turn to attack the Imperial Guards with a lackluster "Die, Imperials! Die by our magical might!" And send two glowing arcane arrows at them. Meanwhile, the last two men with swords move in on Kyras, approaching on his right.
Current Health: 17/45
Status: Asleep (ZzZzzz...)
Daveth clenched his jaw as he felt the arrow impact his shoulder hard and deep causing him far more pain than even the troll had managed just as he was about to set into action his escape plan he began to feel his eyes getting heavy and his body became slower to respond. "Oh.. fuu.." Daveth managed to mumble before promptly falling face first onto the roof of the building.
Sama:
Tokine gives sympathetic nods during the gaigins' tale. "I feel much the same way toward saving art, and our temple will do all it can to preserve these items and our own."
@Tokine and @San Pen: People come and go while the four of you talk; some nobles, a couple samurai, a merchant and his family, even a vendor trying to hawk second-rate tea leaves who gets quickly escorted out by Daiyu-san's attractive and lethal daughter Jun, who functions as a sort of guard when she is not in training. The conversation is pleasant enough, with all parties comporting themselves agreeably. As the time approaches when all should be on their way, however, Rhon clears his throat and runs his hand through his hair again; that nervous tic you notice he does every time he introduces a new topic, or says something he feels is important.
"You asked, when we were at the temple, and again when we came here, about the war. I've been skirting the issue, I'll confess. The thing is this. There are three groups here, and each wants something of the Empire. The gaijin in black are known as the Black Dragonflight, and they instigated this war. I am certain they will have justifications for it when they have their turn to speak tomorrow night, but it was their doing. All was basically fine in the Land, no problems out of the ordinary, until they began their conquering march from out of the Frost Kingdom, and the jungles to the southeas-er, sorry; they'd be west of here. The Old Land, and thereabouts. Anyway. They will ask the Empire to join them. It will be a tempting offer, because the Black Dragonflight are strong, with many devils and mages on their side, and Erinyes for officers in their army."
"The other group, who will also ask you to join them and fight on their side, are paladine of Lesotho and Izmir, great cities of learning and light, I am certain you must be familiar with them both. These men and women are the closest thing to an organized resistance against the forces of the Black Dragonflight, but they are too few, and they know it. Their plea already stinks of desperation, even though they are ostensibly the forces of good, at least as they see it. They are zealots and evangelists, but they have good hearts, and can be relied on, and that is enough for me to trust them, but I am not certain they have much of a case to make for an Empire looking to expand its territory or protect its people. Or both. I confess the Emperor's motivations for accepting all of our requests for audience are completely opaque to me."
"The wild card in all of this, Sifu San Pen, Curator Nagano-san, is a new force that has recently arisen, and this may be of particular interest to you, Tokine." Rhon's use of her first name brings Tokine up short. "This other force has come out of Iridian, once Shelyn's jewel, most green and verdant of territories, but now cursed, these last 100 years, after the folly of The Bard King and then the death -- at the hand of his own army, no less! -- of the last king, the elf Thrordronn, Iridian has been cursed to be leaderless and filled with danger. Her woods are now dark and crawl with fell beasts and abominations, giant insects and dark folk, and out of this land an army has come, each fighter clad deceptively in gleaming silver plate mail, just like a paladin. An army of men, and half-elves and half-orcs and even elves. All twisted and dark, their minds rotted from whatever curse has overtaken that once beautiful land. An army ruled and directed by red dragons. A Red Dragonflight army. They wait, calmly, out of range of a given battle, and indeed this whole war, to see who will gain the upper hand, letting both sides -- free folk of the west and the black dragonflight -- fight it out. They wait for them both to get weak, then they strike. They are opportunists, and I fear their victory more than the Black Dragonflight's. For the Red Dragonflight seem strangely focused, secret, difficult to find and harder to defeat."
"A victory by the Red Dragonflight is what I fear most. How this relates to the requests that will be made of the Emperor over the next three nights, I am not certain. But it troubles me nonetheless."
Kyras could feel the darkness inside him welling up. It always used to get him in trouble when he was younger. It was something he'd never been able to explain. He'd seen other berserkers, but they always seemed limited somehow. But in him, it was something dark. Something more than primal. He'd learned to hold it at bay for the most part, and since awakening, he'd kept it under wraps.
But unlike those other times, Kyras welcomed it. Embraced it. Drew that rage, that power, around himself like clothing. It suffused every fibre of his being, and his eyes changed, turned dark. Not just dark - black, jet black.
His eyes bored into the two men in front of him. These- Insects. They are unworthy to spill the blood of one such as you. That darkness whispered to him. A dragon in all but name, and they dare? Kyras was fearless, he was elemental. He was dragon.
With deliberate slowness, Kyras finally drew steel, and leveled it at his nearest foe. "You. You die next." With that, he whirled the blade in his hands, and struck out, the steel gleaming in his powerful two-handed grip.
Kyras' blade punches through the burakumin's chest, and he dies with a wet gurgling sound. The black-winged woman above lets out a peal of manic laughter. "HAAA! Hahahaa! EXCellent! So ANGRY! So FIERCE!" Strange Infernal characters are beginning to orbit her wrists, a nimbus of just-illegible red light glowing and whirling. There is a tearing sound that seems to come from all over.
There are also footsteps approaching from one of the alleys.
Kyras is standing in the middle of a pile of corpses and there are bodies on either side of Azami. Despite the doomed bravado of the gangsters, this feels less like a fight than a massacre. The Mists of Lanzhu are beginning to swirl in a strange way, orbiting the wind rather than moving with it. They smell of stone and rank water, the scent is cloying. For just a moment, they form the shape of a spectral crane, perched on top of one of the corpses, but the illusion is gone nearly as quickly as it appeared.
The last Burakumin looks in horror at Kyras, the fear plain on his face. Though he understands he is face-to-face with his own death, he keeps his katana at the ready. He appears to be a boy, probably no more than 17.
Tokine sets down her tea cup, a solemn, sad expression on her face. "Has love truly fled the West that such destruction runs rampant? And to turn Shelyn's Jewel, already destroyed, into... into a corrupting force that preys on the weak...
Tokine takes a moment to gain some composure. Her glacier blue eyes are wet and bright. "My Mistress sent me a message today. I do not understand its full portent, but I know it hinges on the Emperor's decision. I would think of him as a good man, but he has his land and people to think about. I fear the pagoda he stands in has no doors, and any decision he makes will draw the empire into this war either actively or defensively."
Actions: Attempting to disarm burakumin next to her in I8 --which provokes an attack of opportunity (if he chooses to take it). Two attempts to disarm rolled, in case the first does not work.
Round 3 of +2 Vigor on katana.
The maniacal words of the beautiful fiend hovering above them twist over Azami’s skin, the arcane ripping sound breaking through her battle resolve.
She wants us to destroy these weak burakumin, to litter the streets with their bodies. Her eyes scan the acid-covered lifeless forms, to Kyras, then to the remaining burakumin. There is no honor in this slaughter that delights the wicked demon.
As the mists coalesce into the vision of the crane over one of the bodies—a hint, a breath of insight—Azami tightens her grip on her katana, her eyes widening as a surge of hope races through her veins for the first time in two years. A sign!
A breath, and she executes a thrust-and-twist maneuver to disarm the boy, calling out to him--and to all of the remaining burakumin. Stand down, burakumin. Do not fight for the Yokai, she craves for your blood to soak the earth.
Disarm 1
Disarm 2
@Azami: As you move into combat, the gangster sees you coming and readies a counter attack. It is an unsubtle swing, leaving him open to your maneuver, but it is successful nonetheless, landing a slashing blow across your shoulder. Blood springs forth, mixing with the iron and steel in your armor, the mists rising past it giving you a momentary flashback to your dreams of this morning...
...it passes, and With a single swing and a twist you send the young thug's katanna spinning away from him down the street, away from yourself and Kyras. He stands before you now, helpless. His eyes are wide and his knees shake ever-so-faintly.
Above you, the demon howls in anger. "WEAKNESS! WEAKNESS! YOU SHALL BE PUNISHED!"
The footsteps in the alley are very close, and there are footsteps coming down the street that Kyras originally approached on as well.
@Tokine: Rhon listens carefully to what you say, and then casts his eyes down. He looks pained. "I...I don't..."
Earanthil picks up for the clearly shaken scholar. "They talk of prophesies and confluences, Madame Curator, and I can say that any arcanist worth their salt feels strange shiftings and currents in the magical energies that move the Land, I know I do, and I know Rhon does. Problem is, many are using these 'Times of Great Significance' to justify all kinds of craziness and foolish actions, instead of just living through it or using it for good. You know how people are; always condemning others' ambitions but somehow justifying their own, no matter how potentially harmful to other beings and the Land."
The sorcerer pauses, then looks out the window. "Rhon, we should go. I suppose we should probably at least clean up before the dinner. Well. You should. Tokine and San Pen and I look fantastic." He gives you a conspiratorial wink. It's nothing flirty or inappropriate, just a "tee-hee!" sort of gesture.
Rhon nods, still deep in thought. The two gaijin stand and bow deeply. "Sifu San Pen, Madame Curator, we will see you tonight. It has been a pleasure being in your company this afternoon, and we thank you." Earanthil just waves, and the two leave. Jun's gaze follows Earanthil's every move predatorily.
The tea shop is emptying. A merchant, a Samurai of a lower -- but still noble -- house, and an art student working on a poem are the only other patrons beside you and San Pen.
San Pen sits quietly during Rhon's words, thinking to himself. I must not speak before this man- I have been told many times how poorly I conceal my thoughts.
The emperor could do worse than folowing his instincts- I to welcome the words of this man. Glad I am that rulership finds me not.
Come, lady, let us rreturrn to the place- this man is corrrect and we must prreparre. I will walk with you.
As they slowly make their way, San Pen waits for a quiet stretch and speaks. My hearrt was filled with prride in ourr frriendship today. I have hearrd the Emporrerr speak well of you, Curratorr. His worrds werre "Tell her...the emperor sends regards, and continues to respect the honor your work brings his empire."
Strangely, his accent is clear when he quotes.
I shall make an offerrring to you Goddess that she may know yourr worrth to us all.
Tokine gently takes one of San Pen's hands as it wheels by, before releasing it to hold the next in its turn, etc.
"Dear San Pen. Thank you for that confidence. It is nice to be appreciated, just as I am sure the Emperor appreciates you in these troubled times. She gives the current hand a firmer squeeze. "Just....I do not envy your position as an adviser these next few nights."
In a quieter, conspiratorial voice, with a bit of a giggle, "Is that what he sounds like?"
So, Imuri thinks to himself.The Emperor will be asked to join or threatened with war. He listens to the bonge at his table for a few moments, making humorous quips to cover his ruse. He then excuses himself with a middle-class dialect and leaves the tea house.
If they are large parties, there is certainly opportunity to overhear more. Imuri walks behind a painter's tent and emerges, invisibly, from the other side. He follows the gaijin party for several seconds while evaluating their dress and uses his hat to emulate their colors and styles, noting with discomfort the appearance of leather on his body when he emerges from a more remote building several yards away.
I wonder what these people are really up to? Are they free men desperate to be free of war? Are they despots eager to bring deceit to the palace? Before I meet with them, Imuri resolves to himself,
I will know.
1d20+8
These two gaijin, as far as you can tell, are being completely sincere. It does not escape your notice that they did not say what they wished to ask of the emperor, only what the other two groups would ask.
As you follow the gaijin back to their inn, silent as the mist and swift as the wind, you see four young ninja, still in their keikogi, going in the opposite direction at a rapid pace. They turn down the same street Nagano-san and Sifu San Pen turned down, towards the palace.
Chongde swings hard with her katana, a body blow intended to move her opponent into grasping range where he falls victim to her magic, getting fried by elemental powers from the magus' hand.
@Tokine and @San Pen: As the two of you make your way down a quiet side street towards the palace, you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. In front of you, a mercenary from one of the lesser samurai schools steps out. Three student ninjas are behind you. The mercenary speaks. "Honored advisor, Madame curator, to take tea with gaijin requires much political acumen. Or is it carelessness? I forget these things." He drops his hands by his sword. "The gaijin gave you something. A painting. I have been sent to retrieve it. You will hand it over, or I will take it. It is your choice."
Hrrum, hrrum, hrrum. Someone has missed my lecturre on Karrma. Lady, shall we educate him?
rotates to put his back to Tokine and face the ninja, blocking her from their attack as much as he can
How forrtunate! Thrree of you and me with thrree hands. hrrum, hrrum, hrrum.
Bluff check:
@Azami, @Chongde, @Kyras: The burakumin trapped between Azami and Kyras falls to his knees, prostrating himself before you and begging for his life. "Please! Please spare me! I have family, I was spurred to action by the dark lady above, who promised me riches and glory and I was a fool to believe her!"
Meanwhile, the three remaining gangsters, all sorcerers, steel themselves and try more magic on you. One summons a viper that appears next to Chongde and attacks, but only gets a mouthful of armor, the other two both send magic missiles flying at Kyras and Azami, the arcane energy blasting into the two gaijin.
Meanwhile, in the sky, the Dark Lady claps her hands and the tearing noise increases in pitch and volume both, becoming well-nigh unbearable. Suddenly a rift opens from the Material Plane to the Infernal Plane, and two Bearded Devils jump out, roaring and flicking their barbs at you. One appears next to Chongde and one by Azami. Both attack immediately, landing savage blows with their tainted glaive. The woman in the sky laughs uproariously and looks at Kyras, yelling with joy. "You of the dragon blood! Acid-spewing mortal! Fight these, save the women, show me what you're really made of! Hahaha!"
Worst of all, though, Chongde and Azami, you see Kong Zhen has apparently followed you, and is currently trying to climb the roof to see what's wrong with the guy on the roof, the one that the 'Dark Lady' shot. He calls encouragement to Chongde. "Shan Chongde! You are mighty! You will destroy them all! Haahaa!"
As you follow the gaijin back to their inn, silent as the mist and swift as the wind, you see four young ninja, still in their keikogi, going in the opposite direction at a rapid pace. They turn down the same street Nagano-san and Sifu San Pen turned down, towards the palace.
How lacking in subtlety thinks Imuri as the future ronin go by. Well, we can't allow this sort of opportunity to slip past.
He turns and runs towards the four ninja, changing his appearance to match theirs just before he passes into the street. He remembers his training, not allowing his feet to fall completely on the ground. The resistance of the earth element in the ground opposes the water in his feet, and the extra bounce causes him to rush forward with unnatural speed.
He mimics their run as best he can and runs to catch them. By the time they notice him, they will have reached the Madame Curator. By the time they assault someone of higher station, one of them will be dead.
When we arrive, I will hear the mandate and immediately challenge the leader:
Speaking to San Pen:There will be no need to dirty yourself, advisor-sama. It is my pleasure to stand before these men and teach them the consequences of practicing such low skills in broad daylight. I will change my appearance to a samurai in grey with an awful neck scar, but I will not reveal my own identity.
I will challenge their leader: if he wins, I am struck down and their negotiation continues (stupid ancestors!). If he loses (hooray, ancestors!), he provides me with the reasons for his assault, the significance of the painting (assuming he even knows) and the identity of his employers. He will have the option of sepukku, or he can tear the mon from his clothing and I will insist I don't recall his dojo.
A samurai's dojo is very important. I am hoping the chance to protect it engenders some trust.
Disguise
Acrobatics
Stealth +20 if I feel I have to remain invisible.
Assuming 2 round at a speed of 60, this sequence uses 3 of my 4 ki points for the day. Just 1 left.
In his fury, the Dragon refused to believe this pathetic excuse of an assassin. For his crimes, he deserves death. the darkness whispered. The Dragon agreed. Calling forth his power for the third time against his enemies, the Dragon focused his raw killing intent on the six foes that were scattered about the courtyard.
"You seek to anger me further, devil?" The Dragon said aloud, incredulous at her temerity. "Very well. But don't be upset when I break your toys, and then come after you."
Making good on his promise, the Dragon, turned in place, sweeping his free left hand at his enemies, starting with the disarmed fool, and ending with the final spellcaster. As he began his movment, the Dragon spoke fell words that may very well be familiar to those present now. "Gethrak Eshrin."
As he spoke those words, six jets of black, hissing acid sprang forth from his outstretched hand, covering his would-be assailants in the stuff.
@Tokine and @San Pen: As the two of you make your way down a quiet side street towards the palace, you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. In front of you, a mercenary from one of the lesser samurai schools steps out. Three student ninjas are behind you. The mercenary speaks. "Honored advisor, Madame curator, to take tea with gaijin requires much political acumen. Or is it carelessness? I forget these things." He drops his hands by his sword. "The gaijin gave you something. A painting. I have been sent to retrieve it. You will hand it over, or I will take it. It is your choice."
Tokine gives a wry smile. "Shelyn approves your interest in art, but that particular piece has been entrusted to our temple. And Shelyn can be fierce with what she loves." Giving the naginata a twirl, she plants it firmly, giving off a jangle of bells.
@Kyras, @Chongde, @Azami, @Daveth: With horrid hissing and burbling noises, the remaining burakumin fall dead, writhing in agony. The one that Azami disarmed sees Kyras thrust his hand out and soils himself in terror and fear. He screams a name as he dies. None of you recognizes it.
Even the two bearded devils take damage in Kyras' lethal assault, the acid hitting them as well, singing their terrible devilish flesh. They glower at the gaijin. The Dark Lady above you thinks this is all simply delightful. "ME?!" she yells incredulously in response to Kyras' threats. "You would threaten an Erinyes? One of the furies of boundless hell? HAHAHAAHAAA Oh human you really are of the blood of dragons, aren't you? And you even killed the disarmed and surrendered enemy, such ruthlessness! Are you sure the blood of a devil doesn't burn in your veins alongside your draconic heritage? Surely you are a far greater mage than your sister, that lackwit, and will be of much greater use to us." Something catches her eye, then, and she looks down at the roof she left a short bit ago. There she sees the hapless Kong Zhen, who has somehow managed to clamber up on the roof of the hovel where Daveth is unconscious, and appears to be attempting to revive him. Seeing this, Chongde extricates herself from combat with the barbed devil to get Kong down and to safety. "Kong Zhen, I told you to wait! What are you doing here?"
@Daveth:
@Azami:
Even with sneak attack damage you won't be able to do enough to take out one of these guys in a single shot, so I'm saying you simply blended in, and now comes your challenge.
The challenge you're referring to is an Iajutsu duel, yes? If so I'll just roll it as so.
Holy crap, dude, you barely won that. One more point on his side and you'd have had a draw. Two more and you'd be...defeated.
"My sister?" The Dragon said aloud to no-one in particular. "Considering I never saw her use magic, I don't consider that a compliment." He continued, turning his attention to the winged devil above him.
"I assume by your words that you hold my sister in your custody? Return her to me, unharmed, and I will consider the matter dropped. If not, perhaps I'll send you back to your masters with my regards - and without your pretty wings. Would you like me to bring you pain, dark one?" A terrible smile crossed the Dragon's face, and a heat-like shimmer covered his body, revealing his true form.
Gone were the clothes typical of a spellcaster, to be replaced by a sleeveless tunic under a finely wrought chain shirt. His bare arms rippled with muscle, and glossy black scales crept out from under his garb, covering his shoulders and flowing partway down his arms, ending at his biceps. The same scales covered the back of his neck, and one could assume that other parts of his body were similarly covered.
Out of the corner of his eye, the Dragon spied the humanoid lurking in the shadows. A lazy (and wicked) smile crossed the Dragon's face. "And what's this? Another flunky for me to slaughter?" He asked her, a hand pointing at the shadowy figure.
@Tokine and @San Pen: As the two of you go back-to-back, preparing to defend yourselves, there is a strange bending of the air and a Samurai, bearing a terrible scar on his neck and clad all in grey, steps forward from the shadows. The three ninja look completely bewildered and the Ronin at the other end of the alley utters a confused "...buhh?!" Looking at the two of you, the newcomer says "There will be no need to dirty yourselves, advisor-sama, curator-sama. It is my pleasure to stand before these men and teach them the consequences of practicing such low skills in broad daylight." Stepping forward, he drops into the customary stance for an Iajutsu duel. The ronin, growling under his breath, drops to his knees. "The terms?" he asks the newcomer. "I win, you tell us why you are seeking to...detain these noble persons, and who employed you to do so. You will also tell Madame Curator what you know of the painting you seek. The usual options apply after that." The Ronin laughs a short, barking laugh and says "haha! Very well, fool."
The two Samurai sit, then, in that alley. Their concentration is fierce, their focus absolute. As their swords are drawn, both with lightning speed and utter precision, it is clear the newcomer is the victor, but only by the slimmest of margins. Defeated, the Ronin tears his dojo's symbol away, a strange look in his eyes as he does so. The three apprentice ninja back off and melt into the shadows.
Begrudgingly, he speaks; "I was hired by a man called Plum Blossom. I don't know anything about the painting other than a rough description." He looks pointedly at Tokine and San Pen. "This doesn't end here, you know. Who protects your temple?" He grins as if at a very funny joke. A very large, dark-winged bird flies high above. The ronin spits on the ground, and moves aside to let you pass.
The Fury chuckles evilly once again. "Your sister was a fool, Dragonborn, who still denies her own abilities even now as those abilities keep her alive. We do not hold your sister, but we can tell you where she went, not that it'll do you any good. First, you must prove you can defeat these devils! As for the man in the shadows, well..." again the bemused, wickedly evil chortle "...let's just say you're already acquainted."
Dark eyes kept shifting between Kyras and the Erinyes - the scales on the gaijin's arms drawing Chongde's attention. Confirmation. There are dragonborn, even amoung the gaijin. But who would breed with such ugly creatures as those things calling themselves Dragons of the West. A faint shake of her head, and Chongde catches herself before her hand makes it all the way to the back of her neck - which even now was burning with itch.
Swallowing, Chongde turns her attention to Kong Zhen. "I followed three burakumin here. I knew it would be dangerous. Keeping the peace is as much my duty as our errand was, Kong-sama. Please. Will you listen to me now?" she asks, her eyes darting back to the bearded devils, the Erinyes, and then the gaijin - waiting.
Chongde:
Kong, who is sitting on the roof and waving some kind of smelling salt under the nose of a strange, dark-winged man lying there with an arrow in him, smiles down at you. "Chongde-lóngti, I will help this, your companion awake so you can defeat the devils! I can help you! Together we are unSTOPPABLE! Hahaa!"
Kyras and Azami, you both hear all of this.