Azami strides with an arm bent in front of her face as a shield from the rainy onslaught, in the vain hope that she can maintain a clear view. When they finally reach the overhang, she gazes up with growing discomfort at the majesty of the palace.
Once again in the safety of the sanctum, Dare Mo enters the apothecary's hall, where shinobi skilled in herbalism and magic create curatives and the deadliest of poisons.
Strange, twisted roots and herbs smelling both fair and foul hang dried from the ceiling, and the shelves are lined with boxes, jars and other containers filled with stranger ingredients.
One of the herbalists looks up from grinding... something... in a mortar and pestle. She is older than Dare Mo, with an acid burn across part of her face, "May I help you, brother?"
The title was honorary, they were all brothers and sisters in the clan, though they shared no blood relation, "Yes, sister. I was... weakened... by a strange creature. A face of the Five Headed Death, a demon in the service of the Plum Blossom syndicate. I require restorative magics."
The apothecary examines him thoroughly before retreating to a vault at the far end of the room and returning with two small vials, each filled with a milky liquid, "Drink one of these. If you're still feeling the effects afterward, drink the other."
Thanking her, Dare Mo bows and returns to his small cell where he drinks one of the potions in a single gulp. He follows with the other.
His strength restored, he conceals the strange objects from Lu and lays down on the hard mat that serves as his bed within the ancient temple of shadows for a couple hours of rest.
The raindrops make a slight hiss as it hits Kyras's skin. He barely seems to notice getting wet, and actually seems surprisingly dry considering the rain. As he breathes, small wisps of steam emerge as his heat hits the water. Standing next to him, a bystander might notice a slight increase in warmth; touching his skin, he seems to be feverish.
As they step under the awning, he stops in front of Azami and Tokine. "Care for a bit of heat?" Two licks of flame emerge from his hands, one in each, and quickly engulf them. He seems blase about it, holding out his burning hands to warm them. It is actually quite toasty.
At first, Azami visibly leans away from the flames, watching for his flesh to burn. Then her stance relaxes slightly at the heat, telling herself she should really be more used to such things by now. Still, this weather filled her with a creeping anxiety not unlike the dampened mists along the cobblestones.
She glances at the looming door to the palace, and then back to Tokine and Kyras, muttering sotto voce. "Not enough flame in the world to make this a warm reception."
The Uniter was, by all accounts, a simple man. In parable-ish parlance he was a hedgehog; he knew One Big Thing, and that thing was Time. From birth he was reported as having a preternatural understanding for how long any given task would take if possessed of or given a solid idea of the parameters involved. He also seemed to feel time more heavily than others, like gravity, or heavy cloth. He only ever did things once, and always correctly, with care and attention. In fact, the only time he ever did a thing twice, it brought about his end. Or at least, that's one story.
5,000 years ago, the current pantheon of gods bound the dragon-god Kalaroth and destroyed his physical being. His spirit was banished to a prison realm, a tiny pocket dimension where he could be closely monitored. Kalaroth's ally, the ever-hungry and psychotically destructive God of Lightning, who is called Khoda, was too strong to be handled the same way, and so was exiled to his own dimension, the elemental Plane of Storm. Khoda aches and hungers to get back to the material plane, perhaps even moreso than Kalaroth, but for millenia both beings have remained safely "behind bars".
The war against the Dragon God left the Land in a horrid, mangled state. The Uniter, Fen Chan, was the child of a merchant clan, and so he traveled much, and saw the terrible state of things. He looked closely at the land, at the people, and one morning he announced to his father; "The people need a leader. I will fix the Land, and I will be their leader." The next morning, he was gone.
The young boy reappeared in Lanzhu fifteen years later, with three bizarre magical beings in tow; they were manifested personificatinos of the Suihan Sanyou, the Three Friends of Winter, who are pine, bamboo, and plum, and represent perseverance, integrity, and modesty, respectively. The young Fen first visited his family, to make sure they were well. He then embarked on a quest to become emperor. Him; a simple son of a merchant, or so everyone thought.
In five years he was crowned emperor, and his divinity, expressed through the unfailingly constant companionship and loyalty of the Three Friends, was formally recognized. He took their values as his own, and so he acted modestly, with integrity, and always persevered.
The Emperor Chan's steady rise to power and the good he wrought in the world is well-documented and need not be recounted here. Indeed, many of his structures still stand to this day, thousands of years later, and are silent monuments to the endurance of his works.
It was in his fourth decade that he took a wife; a foreigner, a woman from the then-young city of Mamban. It was after visiting this mysterious city that Fen Chan began working on a book. A magical book. An Omnibus, that he said would contain all knowledge that could be written down. He said the idea occurred to him after a visit to a fountain that he claimed stood in the Center City of Mamban, a claim he steadfastedly clung to despite the insistence of others that no such fountain existed.
Shortly after his son was born, things began going badly. Haru Chan was possessed of a strong connection to the divine, and spent hours seeking answers of the gods. His father, meanwhile, began to sink deeper and deeper into newfound obsessions; his book, for one, but also in the founding of Great Houses. None of the current Great Houses in Lanzhu held power back in this distant beginning of time, but there were others then, and the Emperor sought to start a house of his own.
Here is where the scholarship diverges; accounts vary or are given by witnesses and scribes who were unreliable, mad, had their own agenda, or all three.
One line of research says that the emperor succeeded and formed two houses, and that each of these houses covers the entire land. It is said that this activity by the emperor was viewed as overly prideful, and created a great rift between himself and Plum, and led to the rupture of the Suihan Sanyou, and that this led eventually to the emperor's downfall.
Another line of research says that the emperor failed, that no such houses exist, and that the rift was created when Plum left Lanzhu and traveled, and saw the mighty monuments and buildings the emperor had built, and that while these were looked at dubiously, the ley-line containment walls that had been built to guide the glowing, world-spanning sources of wild magic were too much, a step too far, and the cause of the rift between Fen and Plum.
The final fork in the research states that neither of the above two happened at all, that there was no rift between the emperor and Plum, indeed that the two remained good friends until Chan's disappearance, and that his disappearance was predicated by the sudden, violent death of his son Haru on the eve of the boy's 13th birthday in an unexplained explosion on the 13th sub-basement under his Grand Pagoda on the western shores of the Land. It is said that after this the emperor disappeared for longer and longer stretches of time, and his Omnibus filled with bizarre and heretofore-unheard-of knowledge, knowledge of events not yet come to pass, of bizarre creatures and things as-yet undiscovered. It is said that he grew distant from his wife, the Mambani woman, and met a red-clad stranger, a tall and thin person who stole his love -- the only time the emperor would have done something twice -- and that, at precisely midnight on his 50th birthday, he disappeared with this crimson-wearing mystery person, and has not been heard from since, and is of course presumed to have died.
Regardless of the truth or falseness of any of these divergent paths of research, this much is known; some time around his 50th birthday, Fen Chan the Uniter did indeed vanish, and almost the minute the emperor disappeared, the Telestari -- strange aliens who had arrived in the Land shortly after Kalaroth and Khoda's defeat -- launched an all-out assault on the properties of the emperor, and on the ley line walls especially. With their extraordinary command of combat and magic they easily crushed the spread-thin forces of the uniter, and without a central leader, the armies fell back to the Empire of Mists, where they remained. The Telestari did not pursue them, and did not destroy anything in the empire. Each and every wall, though, they utterly ruined, setting the ley lines free and beginning the current age; the age of Wild Magic. Some remnants of these walls can still be found in various places in the land, and some have treasures or magical properties to them, but all are a tiny shadow of their former selves.
The Suihan Sanyou disappeared, though their spirit and the virtues they embodied still inform the lives of the citizenry. The Plum Blossom Syndicate, whose origins are lost to time, is said to be a rude joke; extravagant and self-aggrandaizing criminals putting on airs of modesty to mock the riches of the empire, when they themselves are far more dangerous and tyrannical than any leader has ever been.
There are those who say the Uniter never died, but waits in some pocket dimension to return and restore the empire to its former glory. There are others who say he travels still, and works on his book. Still others say that the book is done, and is approaching its end, and that this end will see the return of the Dragon God.
Tokine keeps the hood on her cloak pulled tight. The humidity seems to encourage her hair to roam free of its bonds. The normal mists she can handle, but in such a pouring rain, her hair tends to want to flow too.
With Kyras' proffered flame, she smiles and nods her thanks, but with her holy symbol in one hand and the other hand firmly grasping the cloak clasp at her neck, she has no free hand to warm in its glow.
DRA:
Tokine A set of rare, fine paints. This will come with quite a presentation when the time is right.
Kyras Two complete kimonos. One black and red with a few tiny green spiders on the inside of the obi. It does not mark him as a firend of the spider outwardly, but does allow him to return it subtly to make a point, or demonstrate he has a friend in the Shoto later. Great seed for future scene, I hope.
Azami A masterful black wooden saya (or guard for whatever her weapon of choice is if it's not a katana). No special qualities, and not magical or anything. Yet. Maybe it awakens later, maybe she throw it into the river in disgust. Comes with a brief story.
Eru and the gaijin got their gift yesterday in the form of my spy.
Advisor Chu gets a rare volume of a book series I made up. The Buku Binatang is a series of tomes describing supernatural or rare beasts, their role in literature and legend, and their spiritual analog, if any, to bushido. This volume is on spiders, vermin, snakes and serpents. It is a prized collection, and comes with a little presentation, too.
Daisuke will be offered a chance at fealty, if it pleases Mom-the-Daimyo.
Swift gets a new secret flat to replace the one we compromised yesterday, and a reprieve of my claim on his life if he serves loyally during the present unpleasantness.
Before we move on, I'd like your feedback, and to be apprised if I am leaving someone out.
Tokine's paints could possible involve dyes made from fruits/leaves/needles/etc. of the Friends of Winter OR come in the colors of Shelyn's Tail, i.e., the colors in her sacred bird's colorful plumage, which is basically the visible spectrum.
Azami does indeed use a katana
I do believe that covers everyone
@Chu: There is a long pause. You hear water dripping and the steady sound of the Pechs working echo through the Professor's cavern. "Ssssssan Pen. Yessss. I sssuposssse I sssshould have guesssssed." She looks sadly down at the ground for a moment. "Very well, Sssshadow. Perhapssss you sssshould come in, after all. Would you like sssssomething to drink? You ssssmell of Daiyu'ssssss sssshop, ssssso I assssume the anssswer issss no, but I feel I mussssst offer, anyway."
With a flick of her tongue, she indicates you should descend the stairs and take a seat in one of the large stone chairs that are fused to the ground. She coils herself up and relaxes, so her massive eyes are more-or-less at eye level with you. "Ssssso. What exactly do you wissssh to know?"
It is perhaps worth noting that the exact age of Lanzhu has never been measured. It is known that the city is quite old, as it was in existence millenia ago, in the time of the Emperor Chan and his successors, but Mamban is generally regarded as the oldest city in all of the Land. Part of the problem is the lack of history prior to the defeat of Kalaroth, and part of the problem is each city's general eagerness to leave its pre-history and beginnings as shrouded in mystery as possible.
This much is known, however; Lanzhu is very, very old, and tied to the far distant port city of Mamban in more ways than just age. Perhaps there are scholars somewhere in each city that document these differences and similarities, possibly with charts correlating reasons and features, events and ages, and the significance of same. Perhaps not.
Whereas Mamban is a sprawling mass of above-ground dwellings, built on wet and mobile soil that defies large structures and requires a tremendous amount of achitectural and engineering skill for the creation of anything that is to be simultaneously permanent and grand, and defeats any attempt at excessive underground work, Lanzhu sits on good, solid earth, capable of holding its shape, and being worked and walled and used. So it is fine wine cellars are here. Delightful teas grow. Hardy root vegetables and fine old woods abound.
And so it is that whereas mazes persist in Mamban, and clouds and dark shroud the Center City forever, in Lanzhu there are strange walls-within-walls. There are secrets and doors and latches and shelves and traps. There are covered alleys that only five people in all the empire know about, none of whom have ever set foot in the palace. There are tunnels and catacombs and sub-cellars, there are baroque and carefully maintained crawlspaces where only the highly-trained, the initiated, or the impossibly stealthy go. There are buildings where clicking sounds are heard and the children look frightened and say; "Ghosts!" While their parents hide their knowledge and immense fear behind masks of indulgence and say "Yes! So be good or they will eat you!", feigning finger-shaking righteousness while hiding the truth, that things far more monstrous than ghosts slip and slide and jump and crawl behind their walls, through their doors and closets, speaking a physical language of motion built on a vocabulary of masonry, carpentry, rigging and memory, ropes and latches and wood and steel and stone.
No one is sure how long this has all been there, it is simply a part of living in Lanzhu. And, much like the city's true age, the city's construction -- as well as the identity of those who constructed it -- is a topic perhaps best left unexplored.
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Chu graciously accepts the stone seat and bows humbly to his host as he maintained his telepathy. He most certainly wouldn't turn down anything offered from his host, especially after his rude entrance. {Anything you wish to offer is fine Professor Yeo.} After sitting down Chu sits back in the chair and enjoys the familiar feeling of being underground. {Forgive me for barging in on you at a time like this Professor Yeo, but I feel that time is slipping away for San Pen and I cannot rest until I find him and ensure his safety.} He steeples his hands as he thought about what he would ask the Professor. After a few moments he sighs, nothing was ever simply put and he had no time to play with words. {I would like to know where he is but I am sure you'd like to know that as well... I was graced with information recently that indicated that he was to meet with some group of unknown's. I don't know if they or the Chan have something to do with his possible disappearance. But until I find him I have to assume that someone has taken him. Any information you have, in that regard, is welcomed. As is anything that you could tell me about this...}
Chu fishes out one of the emeralds, he didn't bring both with him out of caution. He hadn't trusted Madam Daiyu enough to reveal it but he had a sneaky suspicion she knew he had it. It was even more dangerous for him to reveal it in a place where he didn't have the upper hand in any way but he wouldn't get information without compromising himself in someways. He was not like Imuri the Spider. {This was found among his possessions and I am somewhat sure of its origins and wanted to see if you had seen this gem before?}
Chu is being somewhat sloppy, its obvious he knows more about the gem then he is letting on and is trying to see what you know or will reveal first.
@Chu:
"Ssssssssssssss..." The great guardian naga hisses slowly, sadly. She does not even look at the stone. "Ssssssshadow. Why do you ask me what you already know? For you thought of one who could make such a stone, did you not?" She fixes both of her enormous eyes on you.
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Chu isn't surprised when his ill-attempt at bluffing the Professor into telling him what he already knew fails. He runs a scaled hand across the immaculate surface of the gem as he speaks. {I hoped I was incorrect in my assumptions, perhaps there was something I missed and you could provide a different insight. Perhaps something I overlooked. But I remain baffled as to why he would have this emerald in the first place. With each step I take the mystery deepens.} He looked her in the eyes as he continues. {Do you know anything about these delegations he was to meet with?}
"Well, I suppose we should move ahead with this." Azami uses the heavy knocker on the ornate door to alert those inside of their arrival.
@Imuri:
@Chu: The professor looks at you unblinkingly for a long moment. At length, she speaks. "Tell me, Loyal Sssssshadow. What do you know about Xorns?"
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Chu scratches his scaled chin thoughtfully, the Professors question was simple and oddly to the point. Perhaps he was over analyzing things. As he thought over what her question may imply he slowly pulled apart his own thoughts. {I know much about them but I know a gem this fine is no mere trinket to be gifted lightly. It had to be crafted by one of the great three and I know of Stonegard in the North. The other two...} Then with a good humored hiss he stands, bowing before Professor Yeo in gratitude. His thoughts were much clearer now, some of the answers had been before his eyes and he had been too distracted to realize it. {Thank you for giving my thoughts clarity Professor, the answer had been before me all this time and I feel very much the student before a great teacher. If there is nothing else you can tell me of San Pen, then I will leave you too your affairs, please do not hesitate to call upon me if you need assistance. I am ever a servant in his Empire, may the Emperor live forever. Honor and grace be with you Professor Yeo.}
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He made his slow way out of the caves watching the creatures working in the dark around him as he left the tunnels and made his way to the surface. Realizing how long he had been beneath the earth his lip curled in annoyance. He would apologize for rudely wasting the Curators time. Now he would make his way to the Gossamer Palace, he didn't want to keep the Shoto waiting.
As he was greeted by the worsening storm he kept his spirit armor up and ignored the hail as it bounceed off of him harmlessly. He strode through the streets keeping up facade of calm while he held down his burning anger. He felt like a shamisan, played, and he had wasted a lot of time for something he already knew. What truly angered him was that he remembered another promise he had made today and sadly she too would have to wait...
Unacceptable...
Back in a bit.
The Shoto family teaches that loyalty and victory are above all virutes. Though many disagree with the impact this axiom has on the rest of bushido, one principle all agree with is that to compete with the Emperor for attention is sin. As such, the original Eight-Legged Tower in Shoto province, which comprises several city houses among the great clans, remained as originally built for centuries. Stark grey keeps surrounded a functional citadel that, while furnished richly for its guests, seemed more fitting for an exclusively military house than one known to host courtiers and artisans.
With a number of developments at the Imperial Palace several decades ago, Shoto attention turned from its outlier holdings to the home-away-from-home of its courtiers and diplomats, and even ruling family when attendance to the Emperor was requested. The contemporary Lord, Shoto no Shiori, father to current daimyo Shoto Maemi, re-imagined the Spider's presence in the Imperial City as one of beauty and versatility, a dramatic change from the prior promise of death and extortion that the older faclity conveyed.
The central spire of Eight-Legged Tower was retained, as well as the smaller buildings that surrounded it. The dark grey tiles and intimidating arachnid sculptures were replaced by liberal applications of white alabaster and shaped plaster. Stark tapestries depicting ancient beasts of Shoto lore and the heroes that conquered or outwitted them were replaced with more appeasing artwork - dew drops suspended on fragile webs, crystal spiders spinning webs of clear waterafter during the frequent rainstorms of the Imperial region, and more.
Perhaps the most striking feature to those who do not frequent the city are the thin, weblike bridges that connect the various floors of the nine main buildings featured at the Gossamer Palace. Shoto dojos teach balance and swiftness, even to those destined for the life of a courtier. The silk and steel chords that span the air immediately over the Shoto city house are heavy enough to remain still in all but the most severe winds, and are decorated with white silk ribbons, sparkling clear jewels and silver statuary. In the brightness of daylight, when one is not looking directly at the Imperial palace (from which there can be no distractions), the Shoto city house indeed resembles a vast, beautiful web spun over the province. Across it, Shoto guards run along the length of these bridges, protecting their own, as well as the expensive estates of other families that rest under these 'gossamer' cables.
The first architectural wonder you see from the ground, after entering the White Gates of Pearl, is the Shiryo Seido . This temple focuses not on gods or fortunes, but on influential figures in the life of the Shoto family over the centuries. Many alcoves provide a place to burn incense and meditate on the courage of warlords, the wisdom of emperors (all featured are well known to have favored the Spider during their reign), the genius of artisans, and more. While often viewed as not a particularly religious family, the Shoto revere their ancestors as an act of loyalty and continuity.
Temples to various gods, and fortunes, notably Norgorber, Pharasma and Calistria, have their place in Shoto province as well. A curious temple to some is the Myole Seido, shrine to the fortune of romantic love. Because loyatly and duty are such a predominant force in the service of a Shoto samurai, the notion of finding love is elusive. Some older Shoto dismiss the idea that marriage does anything but build character and replenish ranks, but many who live a life of service hope that true love will be a reward for their devotion. Those samurai burn incense and make offering to Myole and hope their station allows them to choose their mate, or that their arranged marriage is blessed to include someone they can also devote themselves to.
Imuri's invitation is to a very fashionable tea house near the central spire. The bright stonework and reflective bridges obscure the threat of flying erinyes and menacing dragons, but signs of yesterday's conflict abound even here where the fighting was limited.
The posh tea house smells of cooked rice and pork, with several teas and light pastries contributing to the aroma. An attendant, dressed as if prepared to receive an Imperial delegation, bows at your approach. Her kimono is shining white satin, and her earrings are dangling crystal spiders descending her long neck. A casacading fall of brushed black hair keeps its place behind her back. Her smile is nothing if not genuine.
Greetings, honored guests. It is my privelege to have been chosen by Lord Imuri to attend every need to you, whom he esteems worthy of every effort by our family. Please call on your servant, Lin Ming, as you will, and do not suffer to wait for anything.
She turns gracefully, revealing beautiful bare feet and a hint of flawless skin above them. You note that her legs are unusually muscular for a mere courtier.
The quiet tea house, deep in the Spider's web, beckons.
The rain and hail continue to smash down on the streets outside, and the damp air makes the succulent smells from the tea house that much more tantalizing. Everyone's stomach growls a little bit in anticipation of the delicacies they know will be present at a High Tea in a Great Clan's City House, the sound of a crackling fire almost enough to shake some of the chill from their bones all by itself.
'Fantastic. More intrigue! Just what I was longing for!' Kyras is not remarkably pleased to be here, but he'll grit his teeth and get through it with a smile. Still, digging for a bit of information can't hurt. He might not get another opportunity to speak to an attendant without Imuri there to interfere. Even if she lies, Azami will be able to tell with her unsettlingly piercing gaze of truth. "I do have one request. Two, if you would grant me the pleasure of your company this evening, as I do not have a companion to tonight's dinner, and no woman in the city is nearly as beautiful as you are."He He accompanies the invitation with a charming smile, trying to utilize his good looks to soften her before making his request. "Shoto Imuri told me of your beauty last night, and I could not sleep at all in anticipation of meeting you. I see now that my friend is prone to understatement. Ah, I pray you will consider it, though I imagine you have a line of suitors already, but I will be pleased to simply have my humble plea considered." He stops for a moment, as if having forgotten his first request. "Oh, and Shoto Imuri also begged a favor of me last night. He said that he had acquired a recent guest, one who was returning his hospitality with disrespect. He requested that I speak to her, hoping that I could put her in a more pleasant mood. He told me to speak with you about it, and that you would direct me to this guest."
The White Gates of Pearl part, and they are lead into the Gossamer Palace; Azami walks in front of both Tokine and Kyras. It is unlikely that the Shoto would be so dishonorable as to lay a trap with an invitation of tea, but as the structured web-shape of the estate reveals itself, the guardswoman cannot help falling into wariness. She is fully armored with her kabuto under one arm; the woven ties of the plates have grown tighter with the rain, causing the wear of the armor to adjust such that her movement is stiffened more than might be deemed courteous. Despite her physical and emotional discomfort, Azami attempts to keep her expression neutral—anyone who is trained in reading body language can easily see past this subterfuge, however, the tension clear in the line of her jaw.
It is not the Shiryo Seido nor the divine temples to less noble gods (although Azami recognizes most gods equally at appropriate times, having no particular affiliation) which undermines what little success she is finding in cultivating an impartial, interested mien, but the Myole Seido. A bunch of recently jabbed incense sticks burns in the alcove to romantic love, their tendrils of smoke filling the air she is passing through with a mild haziness that evokes the atmosphere of visions and ghosts. The scent, a sweet note layered upon the tang of earth, strikes her as acrid, yet achingly familiar; it lingers too long on her tongue, distracting her thoughts.
The taste of the perfume battles with the scent of food as they approach the tea house, and Azami is willing to look past the too fashionable atmosphere she would normally be utterly uncomfortable in for the brief hope of a meal – her stomach warning her of its fickle allegiance to whatever will meet its grumbling demands.
…it is late, the dead of night, and Juro is on guard. Her long day of training, as well as assisting the Kagawa with the arrival of a significant amount of merchant goods, has left her aching in places that she’s not sure have names. Still, she will get to sleep, whereas Juro must stand guard, even though he had directed her training and managed the wagons of goods, working harder than she; her heart warms in admiration of her sensei, that warmth reaching her cheeks at the thought. As she strides down the hallway towards the bathhouse in kimono with her long red hair loose, Azami notes a candle flickering in a screened room that is usually dark. She carefully walks towards the room, sliding up to the open space where the door has not been drawn fully closed.
She is not quiet enough, though, and the boy inside – Chiko, the eight year old first son of the Kagawa – gasps at her presence, scooting away from the doorway where she stands. She reaches out to calm him, her face coming more into the light, and he sobers, suddenly aware who it is. “Azami-san. I thought you were a Jorōgumo!” He points to the golden silk orb-weaver spider he has been watching slowly climb the along frame of the wall screen.
She draws her kimono closer around herself and slides into the room to sit near the boy. “I don’t know what that is, Chiko-chan. Tell me?” The boy proceeds to tell her the folk tale of the yokai in the form of a spider that can transform itself into a seductive (Chiko’s phrase is 'very, very pretty', which amuses Azami greatly) woman-- leading men to their webs and killing them.
Azami stays with him for a short while before leaving for the bathhouse, watching the spider climb to the roof beams and begin its golden, zig-zagged web.
As the alluring courtier turns, Azami notes Lin Ming's strong calves, and cannot help but think of the long, crooked points of a spider’s legs climbing the paper walls.
Kyras’ invitation to Lin Ming to accompany him to the Palace this evening almost immediately results in Azami’s raised eyebrow. As he layers on the charm, her eyes roll and she turns her attention to the tea house, debating whether she feels up to managing the possible insult of leaving her armor on for this meeting. Perhaps she could take off the kote and suneate and that would be satisfa…
Azami hears Kyras continue into the other request, her concerns about armor are lost amid the surprise at his possibly offensive audacity --and the hope that it may prove fruitful nonetheless. She turns back to watch the interaction between the two.
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Chu had strode through the pounding rain and hail like an arcane juggernaut, he was not angry per se but he was very focused. As he arrived at the posh tea house, he found himself calming some, allowing some of his focus to fade before entering. He arrived at the end of the Courtier's speech and watched as she walked away, thankfully she hadn't noticed him and had she he would have polietly acknowledged her friendly welcome, despite how badly he wanted a few more quiet moments. He was still digesting what he had discovered today and when he saw Azami he felt strangely conflicted.
He didn't know this woman and obviously she was important for some reason or perhaps it was a ruse from Madam Daiyu. An attempt to see how far she could bend him to assist her in her shadowy schemes. Before he moved much further into the tea house, he forced out what little wetness clung to his clothes with a simple arcane gesture. Satisfied he was no longer dripping he walked into the tea house several paces behind the others, he took in the scene and made a mental note of the exits. He also took note of the faces of anyone else in the tea house, courtiers and nobles alike, as he looked for anyone looking like suspicious. After last nights fighting he was taking no chances.
Once the others take note of his prescence he nods to each of them respectfully despite their rank or station. He still however remained quiet and contended with his thoughts as he ran a hand over the gem in his pocket. He looked forward to what else Imuri had waiting for them.
The Shoto hostess/courtier giggles girlishly, her head tilting at a fetching angle, displaying the alabaster perfection of her bare neck beneath the silken obsidian waterfall of her hair. "Kyras-san you honor me. I would go to the palace with you, but I have duties here and may not attend such an event without permission." She gives him a veiled look, then, and smiles warmly. "I should very much like to see a state dinner some day, if my ancestors are willing and duty takes me there."
Her eyes get serious again. You are almost to the tea house. "The Shoto are very kind and wise and generous, Kyras-san, as I'm sure you have experienced, and we have many guests, none of whom act unfavorably when in the face of luxury such as...this" With a complicated and elegant flourish of her hand, she opens the door, revealing the incredibly well-appointed and tastefully decorated main tea house of the Gossamer Palace. She steps aside and bows deeply, indicating you should all enter.
She also gives him a sign with her hand that generally is understood to indicate a time. The time she indicates is very close to when the state dinner is supposed to start. The look on her face indicates this has something to do with Kyras's second query; about "the guest".
That giggle nearly causes Azami to snort with amusement; she quickly turns away to hide any reaction. Instead, she finds Chu, who is watching her with those golden lidless eyes. Their gaze connects for a long moment.
Azami ultimately reads the Advisor's reptilian gaze as somehow disapproving, and between the words of the courtier and the stare of the Loyal Shadow, the guardswoman begins the arduous process of removing all of her armor for this tea service, tugging on the wet kumihimo ties. It's a blessing in disguise, though, as she can only give half of her attention to the effluent praise Min Ling showers on the Shoto family in her attempt to impress Kyras.
As the four of you are seated, Lin Ming and other, lower-ranking functionaries see to all your needs with unobtrusive grace and attention, making sure you are dry, the fire is not overly hot, that enough cushions are present, and that your dietary needs will be met to your exact specifications. When this is done, Lin Ming seats herself across from Kyras and, after favoring the big westerner with a heart-melting smile, begins to play lightly on a type of hammered dulcimer. The instrument is not overly exotic -- Tokine recognizes it instantly as being native to certain bards in Dambulla -- but just different enough to command attention. To offset this, the hostess is playing softly a familiar tune that sits easily on the ears. It is an old, old melody, by the master composer Liisho, about a young boy who finds his true love sitting under a cherry tree only to learn the girl is actually a fox spirit, but the fox spirit falls so in love with the boy she forsakes the spirit realm to be with him.
There is no sign of your host.
Upon entering the hall, Tokine......carefully......removes her hood, then the cloak. She gives her hair a fresh twist and repining before feeling ready to proceed further.
It is then that she notices Advisor Chujitsuna had joined them. She smiles and bows a welcome and then turns to follow their guide through the Shoto Compound.
She marvels at the architecture and notes the shrines. Norgorber. There is the reminder to keep one's wits here.
Taking it all in, she realizes she has had too many spiders in her life recently to feel comfortable here. But she sits and enjoys the music, trying to keep her mind from the tunnel under her Temple.
At the end of Lin Ming's heartfelt song, a young courtier opens the shoji screen door at the room's head. He is dressed in a dark emerald green kimono with a simple Spider mon at the edge of his right sleeve. It occurs to the observant that Imuri's mons are both on his left side.
The boy's mon is more elegant than those of your acquaintance - a red spider descending a black thread on a white oval. The web bears no subtla katana curves like the proper Shoto family crest, nor is there any sundered scroll as with the Broken Promise dojo. It seems clear the boy is a graduate of a more diplomatic school.
He bows low, not daring to look at anyone directly, save the big gaijin. His voice is even and without inflection, as he offers a ceramonial introduction.
Greetings, bothers and sisters, and cousins from the West. I am confident your every need is being met, and that if not, you will not hesitate to make your desires known. On behalf of the Mother Spider, Shoto Maemi-sama, we remain at your disposal.
I know that you are all waiting for Lord Imuri-sama to join you. If you will forgive me in my great failure, I must apologize for his lateness. He is perfecting matters that I, a recent student of the Silken Word school, have complicated. In my zeal, I have sought to procure a gift from a disreputable channel and have made him late. He attends to the matter now that no one will be dishonored during the gift-giving ceremony.
My lord is merciful and refuses to demand my life for my failure, but to atone for the stain of dishonor, he commanded me to explain his absence honestly. It is my sincerest hope that you will forgive me, a humble courtier who meant only to please the guests of my Lord.
He waits uncomfortably for several seconds, then straightens. His last bow is his deepest, and then he returns wordlessly behind the shoji screen and slides it shut.
You are alone again.
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Chu enjoyed the melody quite well, it wasn't the version he remembered playing on his Shamisan many years ago. It was close though. His reminiscing was soon interrupted by the sudden appearance of the boy and he kept his features controlled throughout the young man's speech. When the man vanished back behind the shoji screen he rubbed his scaled chin thoughtfully as he considered what the Spiders newest ploy was.
He banished away those thoughts as he approached Curator Tokine, who had kindly acknowledged him despite his lack of manners earlier. He bowed his head respectfully to her before he spoke his hands spread wide in a placating motion. "Curator Tokine, a thousand apologies for not keep my word and seeing you as I had planned. I trust you did recieve my message this morning, and as one of San Pen's friends I will continue to offer my services whenever you have need of them."
"Adviser Chujitsuna, it pleased me greatly to receive your note and to know that others are concerned as I am." She looks around the empty hall, "There is much to share and perhaps not much time to act on it. I hope the young Shoto is not overly detained."
Short minutes pass before Shoto Imuri arrives at the shoji screen door and leads a small group of servants and advisors into the room. He bows to his companions. As he straightens, he removes his haori and steps out of his sandals. Curiously, his height does not seem to change when he becomes barefoot.
I apologize for making you wait, my new friends. As our appointment was only made yesterday, the effort to keep our customs for new visitors proved more challenging than my official host was prepared for. Fortunately, I had time this morning to lend assistance and everything is as it should have been.
Imuri sweeps over each of you with a humble smile. He seems pleased to have you here, but also urgent, as if there are too many things that cannot be kept waiting. I trust Lin Ming has entertained you with her beauty and her musicianship. You will soon find that she performs one of the most graceful tea ceremonies in all of Lanzhu. We are very pleased with her.
He turns to Kyras and his eyes light up without a smile. It is my hope that you are very pleased with her company as well.
Kyras smirks and says, "I am very pleased, my friend. Thank you for allowing our acquaintance. I hope you'll consider allowing me the pleasure of her company tonight. I can only imagine how pleased I would be." He winks at Lin Ming, his tone a bit suggestive.
Azami's head falls to the side as Lin Ming plays the dulcimer, listening to the song. She's intent to try and be a little better about dealing with the delicate politics of this situation today, but she cannot help being somewhat edgy waiting here, in this web, when there is so much more she must do. While the music continues - it is lovely playing, and a sad love song that she cannot let herself grow too immersed in - she fidgets with the hem of her sleeve, occasionally gazing at the decorative carvings on the ancestral katana in her lap.
By the time the boy enters, Azami's expression is at least content, if not somewhat pleasant. She listens to him with interest, her brow raising at the mention of a gift-giving ceremony. After he leaves, she nods in agreement with Tokine about hoping that Imuri is not unduly detained.
That he arrives shortly after that statement is amusing to her. This quieter Shoto Imuri is much more to her liking --until he openly baits Kyras...and Kyras tugs on the line, willing to swallow a hook to attempt to pull the fisherman in.
She nods seriously to her host, all pleasantness faded from her expression.
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"Adviser Chujitsuna, it pleased me greatly to receive your note and to know that others are concerned as I am." She looks around the empty hall, "There is much to share and perhaps not much time to act on it. I hope the young Shoto is not overly detained."
Chu nods in agreement with her words. "Indeed, this morning birthed more questions then answers, I have however found clarity in my search for truth..." Chu pauses suddenly after his eyes fall upon Azami's pecular blade and the sight of it tugs at some of his older memories. He had been many things decades ago and a crafter was one of them, so he had an eye for blades and traditional armor. Although his eyes lingered what seemed an eternity, it had only been a few moments since he stopped speaking.
Rubbing his scaled chin thoughtfully he looked back at the Curator as he forcefully stopped himself from eying Azami's blade from Kisara-gane to Kisaki. "I believe we will have favorable results soon Curator, so I remain hopeful everything will turn out for the better." He nods in agreement with her as she speaks of the Shoto being overly detained and before he could give voice to his thoughts their Host arrived.
Chu bows his head low as expected when honoring ones host. He remained quiet however as he listened to Imuri's words and watched the interesting banter betwen the Shoto and Kyras.
Tokine smiles and does a small seated bow toward her host from her cushion. "Thank you for your assistance last night. I am most looking forward to our tea today." She does not say it or inflect it, but word tea seems to perhaps means so much more right now. As she sits, she absently fidgets at the sleeve hem of her kimono.
Kyras' forward comments cause an inscrutable stir in Lin Ming, but Imuri's face remains placid as he responds. Kyras-san, I am perfectly willing to clear Lin Ming's schedule so that she may attend you tonight. Allow her to steer you through the waters of such an event as you would a sailor in foreign waters. She will be a tremendous asset to you in this way, and is never less than fascinating company. However, I caution you to becmoe more familiar with our expectations. A Shoto consort is many things, but she is not available for your physical enjoyment. You dishonor her with your innuendo. Please do apologize so we can continue.
His face is not threatening, but is not yielding. Though Imuri can be verbose, he says nothing, leaving the demand hanging in the air for Kyras to obey gracefully.
Or not.
Kyras lets his face become impassive, though a close look at his face shows a smirk still in his eyes. He takes efforts to hide it from Imuri, and faces Lin Ming. "I certainly don't intend to dishonor you. It would be like dishonoring the sunrise after the longest night of the year. I am simply flustered by your beauty, and not guarding my words to ensure that they reflect the extraordinary honor of your presence. Any dishonor is my own failure to consider how some people might interpret them." He offers a concilitory smile, this time to Imuri. "This is a subtle land, where a compliment is accused of dishonoring someone who I had no intention of dishonoring. I am not a subtle man, and I apologize for how you may have read my words. Please, continue, and thank you for giving me the honor of her company. As much as I enjoyed the company of Oda Kanzue and Sera Aki-Kirei last evening, I suspect that I will enjoy Lin Ming's even more this evening. From as far away as you see fit, my friend."
The plain look on Imuri's face does not waver at all. After a second, he bows his head very slightly, never removing his eyes from the Warbanian. As you say, Kyras-san, you are not subtle. The differences in our cultures will doubtlessly lead to many misunderstandings, and it is vital we agree to overlook such awkwardness for the same of both ourn families. Please, enjoy in Lin Ming the finest companion that the Shoto have to offer. Her skill in conversation at dinner will do much to enhance your enjoyment of such a political affair, and you will be the envy of men who have spent many evenings wishing for such clever companionship.
Imuri turns to Lin Ming and nods slightly. She immediately begins her tea ceremony, nodding to each attendant in person before beginning a magcial weave of fingers, containers, incense and cups. When the time comes to burn the ceremonial candle, she performs a clearly Shoto variation of the ceremony, gracefully and noiselessly balancing each ceramic cup on its lip and leaning each against the other. Only the weight of the full circle keeps them each from falling and rolling away from the shallow candle at their center. Instead, they remain perfectly balanced as perfumed smoke fills the bowls. The silver tray does not shake as she pours boiling water over a thin silk bag full of dried leaves, carefully measuring the water flowing into the bag until it saturates, brews, and then slowly drips out of the bottom into a spotless silver pot. The last of the tea falls into the pot exactly as the candle burns out, leaving the cups full of scented smoke, but with no excess wafting away from them.
With a flourish, Lin Ming touches the inverted lip of one of the cups with one finger while lifting the tea pot with her other hand. Tea begins to pour out of the pot before the first cup is righted, but none is spilled. Each cup flips over from her single motion, the smoke emptying above the center of the table even as the tea lands perfectly in the center of the first, and each subsequent, cup. Steam rises to disperse the small cloud, releasing a pleasant mixture of jasmine, mint and roasted almonds. Imuri closes his eyes and takes in the aroma, almost allowing his On to break at the climax of a perfect tea ceremony. After the scent has faded and no more steam roils from the small teacups, Imuri opens his eyes and reaches for his cup. Without waiting to see if it has cooled, he brings it to his lips, where he pauses and says..
..To loyalty, to honor, and to the giving of gifts.
Azami's expression can only be deemed weary at Kyras' and Imuri's exchange, although she is briefly surprised that the Warbanian remembers the names of the women who clung to his side last evening.
She commands herself to stillness during the ceremony; Azami has only attended one tea ceremony as other than a guard, and that was at her own wedding. This ceremony is far and away more elaborate and beautiful, and the finish so dramatic that she isn't certain what to do next - does she take a cup? Does she repeat his words? Does she do anything? And, again, the mention of gift-giving...
There is no time for such things, she tells herself in the face of all of this ritual.
Instead, she speaks, with the hope that they will skip right to business. "Imuri-san, we are honored by your hospitality and ceremony, but I, for one, need no gift but the swift attention to pressing matters."
Tokine acknowledges the tea service with a smile and a small bow. She mutters a small prayer to Shelyn at the display of such fine skill.
At Azami's words, she quickly takes her cup and bows her head into the wafting aroma. She takes in all the smells while trying to hide the smallest of smiles. The gaijin have their uses...
Azami Ito-san, Imuri says without turning his head. Forces we do not yet understand are arrayed against us. Some of those forces might be our allies and we too far behind the game to yet realize it. At stake is our way of life and the preservation of centuries of civilization. We can either celebrate this culture together, remembering who we are, and building the bonds that will secure us in the near future, or we can continue to be strangers with no time or concern for anything but our individual agendae. You are my guest, and we will either learn to cooperate one another, or we will fail one another. If you think your sense of urgency more important than our collective relationship given all that is occuring, then by all means, excuse yourself and save the Empire alone.
Imuri turns his head to face her. Evnly. Confidently. If an emotion can be interpreted from his response, it is perhaps disappointment. You are very quick to act. You are reluctant to pursue understanding. What great shogun did not take the time to know his cabinet. The Shoto sips from his cup.
Or for that matter, his enemies.
Azami stiffens at the Shoto scion's accusatory response; her hands pointedly do not touch her weapon, but instead curl up inside her sleeves, her fingernails pressing into her palms to bring the familiar spear of pain. Any attempt at openness that had been in her posture or expression snaps shut like a blade in a sheath.
Her first inclination is to accept this child's petulant invitation to leave. What does he know about her understanding or motives? But he has, she believes, something they need. Her eyes flicker to the lovely, perfect Tokine and then to Kyras, remembering his words this very morning, the reason he was here...in truth, he the reason why she is here.
Finally, she picks up the tea cup in front of her, unabashedly narrowing her steely grey eyes at Imuri. She cannot hide her coldness, but seeing as he did not hide his disdain and arrogance, she figures they are at least evenly matched in their dislike. Azami summons up every last bit of diplomacy in her to speak without clenching her teeth.
Her voice is quiet, controlled as if it dances a knife's edge. "You graciously offer the gift of your wisdom, Imuri-san. Let me offer you mine in return: as one who wears the scars of experience, celebration comes when the battle is won, and bonds formed side by side in facing that battle outdo those purchased with ceremony.
She takes a sip from the cup, closing her statement with that silent action.