"Indeed. Let us waste no more time in this wretched heat."
Search Posts
I'm here. Let's clash come steel and stuff
Roll call?
"Indeed... I'm certain we'll break through the wilderness in tact however, hopefully before our rations run out. Even so, I'm sure at least one of us has a bow with which we can skew rabbits with." Food is ever present on the mind of the young.
Zhong begins to bead sweat amidst the heat of the day. Thankfully the cart was a less strenuous encumbrance than the burden of steering a horse. In honor of both preservation and the sun's hatred, he snuffs out his morning pipeweed, stowing it away for when the air is less stuffy.
Zhong drinks deeply of the steaming tea before responding. "Well, the fates will string us along as they shall, to whatever desire they fancy that day... I wouldn't take much worry, however. If they do, we can always vex them back..." As Zhong says the word 'vex', you hear the jingle of a small ceremonial bell, probably concealed inside his robes somewhere. He makes no mention of the trails he's blazed in the past, being raised in the mountains and traveling hither and thither his whole life. He wasn't worried.
"I'll gladly guard the dusk. Anyone want to keep me company? I've some pipe to spare..."
"Ehhh... Today's happenings were as the business of gnats. Doess it all really matter when the gods could swat us car-relessly into the sun?" Through the booze, the philosophic minister betrays his true faces' doubts.
Zhong is entertained by the quaint pissing contest he invoked. His favorite tale was by far the story with the stoic general on the bridge, as observable by his almost child-like facial responses. This however was quickly overshadowed by Hiro-Tawa's report. As he hears of the barren nature of the journey ahead he internally groans but keeps a professional look about him while gripping his alcohol just a little tighter. This professionalism evaporates as he hears Hiro-Tawa mention the culture of beastiality. A sickening grin breaks Zhong's face in half. "WHAT!? You canNOT be serious!" Though the night has shown that the golden boy can handle himself, it becomes apparent that the booze has begun to saturate his angelic blood.
This was a great night.
Zhong thoroughly immerses himself in the pleasantries provided. He takes for himself these trifles, becoming intoxicated for the sake of the sobering truth that the days ahead may be barren and full of risk and all the cruelties of the road. When buzzed enough, he strikes a conversation with his contemporaries: "Sso tell me; What's the craziest thing you've seen in the heat of battle? Once in my travels I saw an unarmed man stabbed seven times by a band of highwaymen, all at once. Their blades ran him through. Before the seven men withdrew their swords, the mann wus able to pluck out thirteen of their eyes... He then got up and tried to walk away, before I caught him and healed his wounds. I'm sure you've all seen similar feats? Tell us a tale!"
Zhong had no interest in the tedious business of pillaging corpses either. He only ever was forced to do it in his life twice; once for want of a coin for barren sustenance, the other for a talisman he'd searched half of Hiroguo for. It was a self-absorbed campaign of vengeance he always felt guilty about. "I believe I saw a couple of shops that would fit the bill a few nights ago... Could be mistaken though, I was quite buzzed." Zhong takes his flask of what one would assume was water and washes off his blade of red steel. He only used the minimum amount of fluid necessary. To the untrained eye one would think that he just did a shoddy job at cleaning his blade, but from its' appearance it showed no sign of rusting.
Zhong leans in to his offender, giving him a final chance to retain his soul and follow his coward companion.
Zhong moves forward to meet the final fool. His red steel finds its path as a fish through holy streams.
Zhong Daxia strikes again.
As the situation unravels, Zhong sees it is time to make the pig squeal. As he charges towards his associate, Zhong deftly comes behind him, drawing his large scarlet blade from its holster, ready to sate it's thirst.
Zhong sees the fiber of the stout one impeding him, and judges him in his mind as pride-filled slave to false honor. A pig with clothes and a sword. He trusts Sung Wo's story and integrity. His decision made, the shining one decides to play with his meal before devouring it. Zhong ceases his cheerful whistle and sweetly addresses the boar warrior. "My friend, please pardon us. Do you wish to see your brother again? As you can see, Wo and I are holy men, and may be able to give you an audience, if a miracle cannot be finagled from the immortals. Should we continue our bickering?" Should mettle be drawn, he was ready against his unassuming stance. Should Sung Wo and himself find reason or favor with the swine, Zhong did not forget the promise of the Silver Panda.
As the swarthy men approach the old man, himself, and Harida, Zhong just whistles to himself, subtly positioning himself where he should be in case something does indeed arise. He sizes up the men before him.
In a more suave manner, the golden boy stows away the rest of his cake in places unknown. The tone of the words proceeding out of his mouth betray some mystic double-speak, and while his prior mannerisms proved to mark his intent true, one would wonder if cakes are all that's up the shiny man's sleeves... "I would love to wander through these streets with you, Teacher. There were more precarious smells I didn't have the luxury of pinpointing on my way over... I myself have always found the spirits to be working their luckiest wonders only where the tastiest tables are laid."
As the other warriors come out of the woodwork, Zhong greets them each in kind. "My name is Zhong Daxia. It will be a pleasure serving alongside you." .... As Sung Wo proceeds, Zhong's angelic demeanor seems to sheen just a shade more vibrant than before.
"But of course, esteemed one! This is the reason for they-that-be have formed me. Where are our horizons headed?" From the folds of his jacket he conjures a little bean cake, and begins to casually nibble on it. To the perceiving eye one may deem it a tick which must be satisfied. However, the young gold one strikes you as a bit goofy.
Zhong waddles over to the square from one of several food carts in the near streets, bearing in his hands four sticks skewering steamed dumpling buns. Eyes unwavering, with a grand smile, he nods low to the old man and his accompaniment, scanning over the armored man subtly in a silent instant.
Forthcoming after his formal bow, he extends the offerings in his hands to the gentlemen before him. "Strange morning food they have around here! I've never heard of serving baozi on sticks before entering this town. I couldn't find any pig dumplings on my stroll. I hope these egg ones serve your gullets well!" He suavely transfers the dumplings to the fellows before him in a manner that raises absolutely no suspicion.
Before you stands a shining man of moderate height; perhaps a little taller than average, but nothing out of the ordinary. His eyes are naught but lustrous, his hair is dark and wild. His face is slightly full- he belays an air of one who eats for fun and enjoys himself more often than abstains. This wouldn't be out of place if it weren't for his priestly garments he bore. His coat is a warm beige, his undergarments a deeper red-orange. The nagamaki at his waist seems an oddity as well, in the context of his sociable and light demeanor. A subtly absurd sight when taken in full view indeed.
Of the priests several renowned accomplishments, one stands out above the others. The Tale of the Royal Wine:
During a pilgrimage the young monk stumbled upon a village who was ruled by a sinister daimyo who forced the villagers to farm for him and took their crops. Such was their destitution that they lived off of only tea. The daimyo's son was ill and and one of his swordsman was sent to ask the priest for help. Zhong Daxia went along. When in his presence, the daimyo commanded that the holy man heal his son on threat of death. Zhong went along, but told the Lord that the only way for his son to become well was if he drank of the finest royal wine. The lord hastily then brought out his finest vintage and gave some to his son. The boy did not recover. The Lord asked why this was so, and Zhong replied that the wine was too weak, and that only a more regal bottle would make him recover. So the daimyo sent his treasurer to the next largest domain in hiroguo, to bring back a good vintage. When he came back, the boy drank the wine and got sicker. The daimyo asked why this was, and Zhong replied again: only a more regal wine would make him recover. The treasurer was sent out several more times, with greater sums of money, bringing back finer wines. To no avail. Finally the corrupt lord grew angry at the priest and accused him of deceit. He asked where such a wine could be found that would heal his diseased son. Zhong told him that he owned the wine himself, but that the price was too high. The Lord grew angrier at the priest, and threw his men at him. Zhong slew them one by one, until the only warriors left in the castle were Zhong and the lord himself. Trembling in fear, the now humbled lord begged at sword point for pardon, for he only wanted his son to be well. He begged dishonorably for the wine that Zhong Daxia owned, and asked for a proper price! The priest answered; everything you bear. The quaking lord relinquished his kingdom to the priest, and asked for the medicine.
Zhong Daxia left the town showering the people with the profits due their labors. The boy was found dead several morns after.
Appearance:
Personality:
Sword Style:
I am Wuliev. A college student, writer, musician and game designer. I've been in the gamut of TTRPG's for about 5-6 years, and am addicted to immersive roleplay. Due to this addiction, I check the forums at minimum 4-5 times a day. I play PF mostly because of the access it grants me to this online community, and because some of the builds are fun in the context of all of the other builds. I usually play gish types. I love connecting with people about any mutual passions. Feel free to talk to me about any of the things I've talked about above. I look forward to our adventures.
Dang man. I didn't think I'd make it. Looking forward to the game.
Everything is here.
"They say all warriors will have their day to die under the sun, but are the gods truly so equitable?
The monkey grins as he adjusts the pipe he's smoking with his tongue, a foolhardy gleam in his eye.
I am complete. Please let me know if anything else offends.
Wuliev here, still pretty sick. Was able to drum the fluff together however.
|