Last holidays, I wrote a ripped-off song for Tawny, and plan to sing it soon… I ask permission to make a video of this song and upload to YouTube! :D The songs can be friends!

Oh dear…

EDIT: This is a Piro post. I'm too tired and didn't see I wasn't logged in.

Think I’m just too Silverstari
Think I’m just too Silverstari
Can’t you see I’m Silverstari?
Look at me, I’m Silverstari!
They watch me layin’
The smackdown
Cause as you know
I’m a Yu Silverstari
Yes, I’m a Yu Silverstari
Yes, I’m a Yu Silverstari
I’m just a Yu Silverstari
An awesome Yu Silverstari.

Know fifty ways to carve up oni
With my ancestral wakizashi
Married to a hot guy, name of Kaji
Havin’ his baby
It’s a long long story
Think it’s barbaric if you like coffee
Only drink worth havin’ is good green tea
I can serve it with ceremony
While we be honourin’ the various kami

I follow courage and the way of bushido
My warrior talents are all epic and pro
Watch me cleavin’ with my magical guan dao
Hail to da Queen, baby, kneel, bow or kow tow.
Carry Lord Yu’s very own sashimono
On my head an angry crab kabuto
Never see me nowhere without my sharp daisho
When not under arms then I wear a kimono.

Wear my colours with pride, they are purple and white
Grew up on the Wall where I learned how to fight
Opposed the Shadowlands, held back the blight
Will never give up doin’ what’s just and is right.
Tougher than Maiko, I can take the pain,
Smarter than Typhenon, but that’s nothing,
Kukulkan’s shorter ‘cept when his shifting,
If I weren’t queen, it’d make me the king.

They see me charge with
A Bullrush!
I know in my heart they see I'm
Silverstari!
Yeah, I’m a Yu Silverstari
Yeah, I’m a Yu Silverstari
Can’t you see I’m Silverstari?
Look at me I'm Yu Silverstari.
I like to do my
Iaijutsu
High damage range cause I’m
A Yu Silverstari!
Yeah, I’m a Yu Silverstari
A muscular Silverstari
Short irritable Silverstari.

;)

Isadora had done something to it. That much the companions knew. It had been a distraction, and Sang had to admit it was an impressive one. The reason for it…well, the short answer was so that Isadora could liberate a pair of servants on death row. This had apparently been achieved, for which Sang was grateful.

Her eyes followed the spectacle unfolding below as soldiers rushed to try and surround the frenzied beast, but her attention was elsewhere, and her brief enjoyment in the moment had faded fast as she remembered why it had happened in the first place.

**
Shayu and Isadora were playing chess. The rest of them, Typhenon, Maiko, Sang, Kukulkan, had gathered in the room to watch and comment, using the game as a front for deciding what they would do next. Since the rain had started to fall after lunch time, things had deteriorated. Typhenon had lost his ability to cast magic, Jin had weakened. Lord Yu, who had left the Blade to speak to the Imperial Dragon during the afternoon meal with the Dowager Empress, had not yet returned. Sang sat tending her armour, which had sustained a couple of dents after her bout with the Emperor’s Champion. It had been a match she’d requested, but she’d been unsatisfied with the results even though she’d emerged the victor. Perhaps he had been unlucky, perhaps he had deliberately witheld his skill (she doubted this—his shamed expression as he’d botched the initial cut had said it all, really), but he had ceded the match after a few exchanges.

She kept physical contact with Lord Yu’s Blade as much as possible. She was anxious for him to return, both with news and because she was concerned. The unnatural rain might have weakened him as it had Jin. What if he was trapped?

There was a lull in the conversation around the game board. Sang glanced up, her eyes caught by the motion of Maiko lifting a hand to touch Jin’s Amulet. For a heartbeat, two perhaps, all looked normal. Then an expression of inhuman despair twisted Maiko’s face, and before anyone could even blink a gleaming blade had leaped into the Jin’s hand, and she had plunged it into her own wrist, all the way through, and torn a bloody gash almost to her elbow.

Kukulkan reacted first. He jumped at Maiko, perhaps to snatch the dagger away even though the damage had already been done. Whatever he attempted, he was blasted away across the room.

Guards were shouting and closing around, looking about for a threat; Shayu and Isadora stayed where they sat at the board, dumbfounded, shocked. Typhenon and Sang were next to Maiko’s side. Without magic, the two attempted to staunch the massive bloodflow and bind the wound, but no amount of cloth could dam the flood. After a minute, Typhenon stopped what he was doing and rocked back onto his heels.

”She’s gone,” he said quietly, simply.

Sang did not acknowledge him. He went away to see if Kukulkan was all right. She finished tying a section of broad obi around Maiko’s arm, trying not to see how the blood was already soaking through the thick white material, turning it crimson beneath the silver embroidery.

Her fingers trembled. She clenched them hard. Not dead. Like that? No. She clamped a hand around the haft of Lord Yu’s Blade and yelled silently in her mind, begging him to come back and help. But he did not. Somewhere inside she could feel a familiar helpless rage building. She looked up, looked for something else to aid her, and caught sight of Jin’s Amulet where it dangled from Maiko’s throat. She closed her free hand over it and mentally shouted for Jin this time, but she could sense him no more than she could sense Yu. Had Maiko’s death destroyed her?

She kept hold of both relics for a long while, calling to both angels, until there was no way she could keep denying what was. Maiko was dead. She was dead.

”Forgive me for saying this, but your mind feels like one long cliché. Hello Sang.”

”What?” she whispered. Sang’s eyes flicked to Maiko’s face, and she wished they hadn’t. The Jin’s eyes were closed, but she did not look like she slept. Even asleep Maiko managed to look alert and coiled for action.

“Yeah. Pretty much sums it up. You didn’t really think I was going to let some little thing like getting killed get in the way of helping out? You know how much a workaholic I can be.”

Sang lowered her gaze to the woman’s throat, where no pulse flickered under the skin. She released the amulet and sat back, trying to let out the breath stuck in her chest. She must be going mad. “I’m just imagining it,” she muttered.

“No. You’re really not.”

“No, you’re not,” Jin’s voice chipped in after Maiko’s. “I’m here too.”

**

Maiko had tried to do something about the daemonic rain through Jin’s Amulet, failed, and left herself wide open for retaliation. The daemon driving the spell had lashed back, and the result had pushed Maiko into such a pit of hopelessness that she’d killed herself. It was fortunate Jin had still been strong enough to fight the daemon back, preventing it from seizing Maiko’s soul. That soul was now somewhere in the palace, looking for a way to reach the Emperor without being detected. Her body was with Moonlight Brilliance and Kukulkan, on its way to Epiach where it would be safe from tampering. Maiko herself had suggested it, saying it was no lie that she had wishes in place for how she wanted her remains dealt with, and it was likely the Silver Serpent and her crew were currently in Epiach.

The presence of Maiko in Sang’s mind had been…odd. She was not accustomed to having other minds in hers, and it was hard for her not to feel such experiences as invasive. She didn’t like the idea that her private thoughts were not…well…private. There were some things she didn’t want anyone to see. Not even Kaji. Maiko had assured her she could only read surface thoughts, but that wasn’t entirely helpful. It meant the Jin had probably been aware of an unhealthy amount of futile anger, grief and guilt, no matter Sang’s attempts to control her emotions.

She blamed herself for this. She probably shouldn’t, but she did. If not for her, Maiko would never have come to this place. She’d still be alive.

That wasn’t to say that Maiko’s presence had been…all bad. She hadn’t drawn much attention to Sang’s churning thoughts but had been almost cheerful, even going so far as to suggest how the details of her suicide could be ammended to be more palatable for future bardsongs. Deception aside, the humour had been…comforting. She had regretted the moment when the Dowager Empress arrived and Maiko was forced to leave or risk discovery.

With things as they were, she didn’t know if she’d ever hear the Jin’s voice again.

**

The Dowager Empress, garbed in white mourning, sat at the table and gestured for tea to be poured. Sang, Typhenon, Isadora and Shayu, all who remained after Maiko’s death and Kukulkan’s departure, silently took their seats.

Servants poured the tea into paper-thin white cups. When the porcelain began to blacken, the Dowager swept hers aside with a shriek of rage, dashing it against the wall. The Emperor’s Champion advanced on the cowering servants who’d brought and poured the drinks, drawing his sword as they grovelled on the floor in abject terror.

The scene almost froze in Sang’s mind as she watched, knowing what would happen. She moved. The Blade came with her, sweeping out to catch the Champion’s sword on its lethal descent.

”You dare?” the Dowager hissed. She pointed a gold-taloned finger at one of the blackened cups on the table. “Do you know what that means? Poison!” she shouted when Sang didn’t reply. “They must die!”

“Enough blood has been spilled here today,” Sang replied, her voice distant, dispassionate. “I would not see more in this place, Dowager Empress.”

The daemon-woman’s eyes had narrowed in fury. “In respect for Usami Maiko, then, the executions will take place outside the palace.”

”No,” Sang countermanded. “I wish no more deaths today.”

The moment ticked past as daemon and Yu faced each other, one radiating anger, the other still as stone.

”Do not defy me again,” the Empress Dowager warned, and swept from the room. Guards siezed the terrified servants, but none moved to kill them. They were dragged away after the Dowager and the Champion.

”That was…imprudent,” Shayu murmured when the coast was clear.

Sang didn’t reply. He was correct. But she hadn’t been able to help herself. She couldn’t stop staring down the passage the Imperial Party had taken, prisoners included, and her mind began a silent countdown of how long it would take before the servants were thrown down and slain.

”I don’t know how long I can keep this up,” Typhenon said quietly, glancing at Sang. “Doing nothing when things like that are happening.”

Doing nothing when things like that are happening…

The words practically burned into her brain.

It is not wise. It is stupid. It is doomed to fail. And I’m sorry…I’m sorry, but I don’t care. I can’t do nothing.

She started to walk down the passage. Shayu made to grab for her sleeve, but pulled back before doing so. It was Isadora who halted the Yu’s advance.

”Let me,” she whispered. “I can do it.”

Sang looked at her friend silently, barely willing to hope there was another way, then bowed her agreement.

**

The beast below would likely be killed before it could be subdued. Sang felt a small pang of pity for it, and hoped the servants had made good their escape. Even if they were missed, she had her doubts that whoever was in charge of the prisons would report the truth, lest he face the executor’s blade himself. At least, she could hope so. Perhaps the only other death tonight would be the creature.

Sang’s open defiance of the Dowager was another matter. She would almost certainly pay for that insult, though what the price would be, what coin it would demand, she did not know. So long as it was demanded of her, none of her companions or family…that was all she would pray for.

Her fingers twitched around the Blade, seeking reassurance and strength.

I'd also prefer 3.5 over Pathfinder; as much as Pathfinder has some great changes, I'm not a fan of the whole "Cantips at will" thing and it simply isn't as well supported at this stage; I have a character concept in mind and it would be much more difficult to do in Pathfinder. (May even be impossible.)

And on that note:

Demons

In a world where Gods may be good, evil or even neutral, embodying both or neither attributes, the concept of a demon is a different one. Afterall; the servants of gods, often referred to as angels, match the will of their God, an evil Angel for an evil god. To call evil angels demons would be to give a great injustice to the demonic community indeed.

For demon are not necessarily evil, quite the contrary as some are quite nice. They simply earn a bad name due to their nature; that of a traitor or a renegade. For when an angel loses its way and begins to question the will of its master, they fall from the grace of their patron, whatever that may mean. Often forced to flee for their lives, these demons escape to the outer planes, where they can hide amongst the many strange creatures and places that have yet to be fully formed by the gods.

It is there that the demons band together into a loose, disorganised society, not agents of evil as they are often reputed to be, but simply outlaws, aiming to survive. While their somewhat anarchic nature means they tend to lean towards the destructive side, this is certainly not always the case, for one does not often become a renegade of an evil god for being too violent and destructive; although it does in all cases depend on the god.

Demon society is not very well organised, for the many renegades often have trouble trusting one another and rarely agree with each others beliefs. But they do agree on one thing; that if they don't at least try to work together, they surely don't have a chance of survival. So for mutual protection more than anything else, they clump together.

Demons do not often seek service in the fold of another God, for it is rare to find a God that matches their new beliefs, and rarer still to find a God who is willing to take on a servant who has already proven unreliable. They are considered an unnatural thing, going against the laws and nature of the very universe itself by defying the gods, but this feat in itself earns them respect from some circles.

In particular, a certain group of mages have long since formed contracts with Demons in order to gain a greater understanding of magic, and in turn giving the Demons some mortal allies they can call upon for aid.

TL;DR: Demons are not always evil, just a fallen angel no longer serving their god, for good or evil. (Or anti-neutral? o.0 )

So in a general pique of 'hey guys here's something fun to do' and 'this surely means less work for me!', you guys get to help me create the world setting!

If anyone's interested in playing, you get to make a few gods and nations. That, and general game information, can be found at acorai.wikidot.com for general observance.

So who's up for it? Roll call!

Oh, and I'm happy about Kukulkan too, of course. ;)

2 HP? Dang :p That's gotta hurt for both sides.

The not-bad news: While the dragon's pretty banged up, it's still working okay… *Decides to not mention the falling out of the sky twice… or the -9 and unstable… or the insanity… or the jury-rigging required to get it started again…*

The Bad news: THAT @#$&*#@#$!!! DEMON HAD TWO HITPOINTS LEFT! TWO!!! AND HE GOT TO BINK OUT!!!!

The Spiteful and Amusing news: The 'little' demon that Venn summoned in to help him out got slam-dunked into the ground by a frenzied dragon. It left a stain.

The REALLY BAD news (For Sally Venn): He's got to go back and report to his bosses while on 2 HP, 4 dex, another two saves to make and the news is that he didn't succeed against an opponent who deliberately provoked him into a homocidal rage…

Now without colour!

:)

Better?

She was up instantly and out the chamber door with guan dao in hand within seconds. The disturbance had not roused her alone; doors were slamming open along the outer passage. Typhenon, who’d been keeping watch in the corridor itself, yanked open Maiko’s door and hurried inside. Kukulkan (in human form) came out of a nearby door while Shayu (wielding a large sword) and Isadora (wearing a sheet) emerged from the same room further down the hall. Isadora noticed Sang, gave a guilty squeak and fled back the way she’d come. Shayu merely gave the bushi a glance, looked at Maiko’s open door, then rushed in the other direction to the stairs leading down.

There was another crashing sound. Sang forced her mind away from Isadora and Shayu for the moment, and followed Kukulkan into Maiko’s room. The wooden framework and ricepaper window was broken and torn; she went over and looked through to the darkened grounds a couple of storeys below. Maiko was tearing off towards a distant building with Typhenon following some ways behind.

She’s all right.

A cold knot in her stomach loosened, but her muscles remained tense. She absently rubbed at her featherfall ring with a thumb, tempted to follow Maiko and Typhenon out the window to chase and destroy whoever or whatever the assailant had been, but restrained herself. Shayu had already gone out after them, and Sang could just make out lights as far-off doors opened and people looked out to see what the commotion was. She could hear Maiko’s voice raised in anger: “Gaijin assassin!”

Guards would be coming, and probably an official regarding security.

Sang glanced wordlessly at Kukulkan, then left the room to find herself an outer robe to throw on over her sleeping shift. She did not see the shapeshifter stoop to examine the floor once she’d left, then collect the drops of blood which he had found beaded atop the polished floorboards.

**

They had been lodged in an estate called the Palace of Eternal Sunset, a name with unpleasant connotations to everyone who realised how dangerous their current position was. Twenty guards arrived in short order, crammed into a ground floor room. Some of them came up to the apartments to usher Sang, Kukulkan and Isadora (who had dressed) downstairs, and here they rejoined Maiko, Typhenon and Shayu at a table. Servants brought them tea while they waited, but not everyone drank or even sat, either busy in their roles as bodyguard or maintaining an icy, affronted mask at having almost been murdered in the not-so-impenetrable Imperial City.

Sang sat, turned her chawan without really thinking about it, sipped and carefully set the bowl down. The peppermint-infused ocha rippled for a moment then settled to a flawless flat surface.

If only I could find calm so swiftly.

Maiko appeared unharmed, but Sang’s relief was countered by her anger that someone had tried to slink into the Jin’s room and murder her. They had known, they had all known that they would not be safe, that attempts would be made on their lives, but a strike against a companion would always shake her more deeply than one against herself.

She’s fine.

Sang sipped again, her eyes on the tea to avoid looking at anyone. She wanted to hear that Maiko was fine from her own lips, but didn’t want to ask with the guards and everyone else around in case the Jin felt obliged to keep up appearances by going on an angry tirade. On the other hand, she wasn’t even sure if she’d be able to ask in private. With her recent luck, Maiko would be insulted just as Shayu had been earlier in the evening.

She lifted her eyes ten minutes later, when the Prime Minister of the Interior and the Emperor’s Champion entered. The former gave the party a deep, sweeping bow, while the Champion barely nodded.

Once he’d looked over the party with a stern gaze, the Champion said, “I’m going to need to know everything that happened.” Sang had never heard the man speak before. His voice was quite deep and gravelly.

Maiko spoke her piece. The sound of a whiplash had brought her awake, and her trained warriors instincts had allowed her to react quickly enough to grab a nearby weapon and deflect the attack. Her attacker had been dressed in foreign clothing. She had chased him out the window, striking him a few times before he used some kind of trickery to render himself invisible. She’d tracked him as best she could, but once he reached hard ground it had become too difficult to follow him further.

Something in the Jin’s account didn’t ring completely true, but beyond the usual embellishments Sang couldn’t guess what.

The others followed up in turn saying what they did and saw, but nothing else had happened that Sang had not seen.

“The Empress Dowager is aghast at these proceedings,” the Champion intoned. “Until morning, these guards will remain here for your protection. When morning comes, more secure accomodations will be arranged for you.” He turned to leave.

“That won’t be necessary,” Maiko said coolly. “Come morning, we will seek other arrangements in the outer city.”

“That will be discussed,” the Champion threw over his shoulder, and left with the Minister on his heels.

Sang drained her tea, stood and went back upstairs without a word, Lord Yu’s Blade against her shoulder. Earlier in the day she’d come up with the idea of using the weapon for everyone to communicate without speaking aloud, which had worked. Of course, the catch was that everyone had to be touching it, and there was little hope of this being discreet with twenty guards observing. She saw no reason to stay awake if they couldn’t discuss what had happened, and besides… she felt tired, drained, and had a responsibility to at least try to recover her strength by morning.

In part… it had been an eventful day. Only this morning there had been proclamations in Tokai, Kaji leaving for a southern kingdom, Sang’s father operated on, her mother’s fear and anger and Typhenon’s open display of divine magic. In the afternoon, the long flight to Nakashibetsu. Their arrival, and the walk to the Imperial Palace that had seemed almost longer than Moonlight Brilliance’s passage through the skies. A great feast had followed, only to be abruptly terminated when, at the back of the grand hall, the Chugi delegation had stood and drawn steel. The guards had reacted at once; teleporting to the table the Chugi at either side of it had been cut down. The remaining six had plunged their blades into their own stomachs and cut from left to right in a ritual motion almost as old as the Empire. The Emperess Dowager had screamed her anger, declared the feast over and ordered the Chugi (alive and dead alike) to be dragged out, torn apart and thrown into the river for the carp to eat. The brutal, shocking command had not ended at that. About an hour later, back at the Palace of Eternal Sunset, the party (specifically Sang) had been presented with a covered platter with a message that the Dowager hoped this would ‘satisfy the Queen of the Yu that justice had been done’, or something like that. Given the savage way in which the bodies of the Chugi had been dealt with, Sang had not been at all surprised to find that the platter held six human hearts. The organs had burst into flames when uncovered; Maiko had launched from her chair and drawn her hookswords with a curse, but for some reason Sang had not flinched. She could remember staring into the conflagration, feeling the heat on her face, but aware of a cold fury building inside her. The blazing hearts were a warning, a threat. The Empress Dowager knew who they were. Two of the hearts had been missing—there had been eight Chugi in the hall, and Kukulkan had taken care of the six that had been delivered in the hopes he could spare their souls being imprisoned by the daemon who had done this to them.

And then there was Isadora. Sang had approached her while Kukulkan was busy with the hearts and the others were exploring the grounds. Isadora needed blood. Sang had asked the girl to promise that she would go to Sang whenever she needed to feed. The reason she’d given was that, even with Isadora’s skills in discretion, their position was too risky. The Dowager Empress only needed one good excuse to dispose of any of them. Sang had another reason for requesting Isadora’s word, but didn’t voice it. The fact was that she didn’t want Isadora feeding off anyone else if she could be the willing alternative. It would protect anyone else she might choose to prey on (and as much as she didn’t like to use the term ‘prey’ with her friend, it was getting harder to deny), and Sang believed she was strong enough to handle the after-effects of Isadora’s bite. So it had happened, with Kukulkan in watchful attendance in case the proceedings harmed Sang’s children, and while Sang had been prepared for the weakness that followed the feeding, she’d not expected the sweeping ecstasy of the bite itself. It had literally buckled her knees, and as Isadora’s arms had kept her from falling Sang had concentrated her will in an almost panic-driven reflex against the euphoria threatening to overcome all sense of her self control. It was the most fantastic feeling she had experienced, and it would have been easy, so very easy to let go, enjoy it, love it, be lost in it. That was the danger, and so she fought against it and strove to convince herself that what she felt was loathesome, an effect brought on by something that had turned her friend part daemon.

“I eat when you eat,” Isadora had demanded afterwards. “For every day you enjoy meals, I get to feed once.” Kukulkan had protested, but Sang had seen no choice but to agree in order for Isadora to keep her word. Seeing her emerge from Shayu’s room that evening had given her pause, but she shook it off. So long as no biting was involved it was none of her business, and she trusted Isadora still. She didn’t want to suspect her. Maiko probably wouldn’t be impressed if she discovered Shayu’s new bedmate, and that was even more reason to keep quiet. Shayu knew Maiko’s opinions of Isadora, he even knew what Isadora was.

Sang pondered this as she reached the passage leading to her chamber, Kukulkan following her and a small army of guards in their wake. Perhaps, since Shayu himself had once been infected by daemonic power, he was not so quick to judge Isadora. Having been cured, maybe he was even working up to convincing her to take the same chance.

Speculation… speculation… perhaps, maybe. They could just be enjoying each other.

She entered her room and shed the outer robe she wore as Kukulkan and the guards took up various points in the large chamber. She was glad of the shapeshifter’s presence, even as she doubted she’d get much more sleep tonight. She was also sorry for having to ignore his advice, that carrying on her deal with Isadora might be dangerous for the twins. He was, however, good at keeping secrets, and she knew he would not break a trust unless there was a good reason to do so. Not that it was a secret, mind, but if Typhenon knew he’d probably order her to stand aside and offer his own neck and Maiko…gods only knew. If anything, berrate Sang for knowingly weakening herself at a time she needed all her strength.

By the time she finds out, it might be something I need to hear. How long will I be able to keep this up? How long before Isadora realises how far she’s gone…

It was hard. Lord Yu had praised her, saying that what she did for Isadora was good, even assuring her that her children were strong enough to handle this, but it was hard. She didn’t want to enjoy what Isadora had to offer. She didn’t want to encourage her and make her think her abilities were something good. Even though the girl’s affliction had none of the outward mutations of Taint that Sang was familiar with, wasn’t it still similar at the core? How could she accept Isadora and be the friend she needed when she feared the daemon inside her?

“I don’t know what to say to her.”

“I am a warrior too,” Lord Yu had replied with understanding. “Perhaps this is something that Jin could aid you with.”

“Maybe,” Sang conceded but the Angel of Courage sensed her hesitation.

“You have an issue with my sister?”

“Not… as such. Maybe I am just not used to her.”

A half truth? A full lie? Lord Yu had either let it pass, or not seen it. Sang did not want to seek Jin’s aid, because she thought she knew what the angel’s advice would be—or part of it, at least. Being an Elonan angel, Sang feared that Jin would openly advocate having the time of her life with Isadora. If it wasn’t hurting anyone, if it helped Isadora, then why not?

But now we’ll be under guard. How will I find a way to let her feed tomorrow?

She set Lord Yu’s Blade down, frowning to herself, then set it aside to worry about tomorrow. There was plenty to dwell on, like the Emperor, and getting everyone out of here alive. She’d seen the Emperor for the first time at the feast today, and Sang had felt her hopes lift at last, for she’d fretted at his absence during their arrival. She’d waited for three hours as a succession of artistically presented meals were brought forth, expecting at any minute for him to speak to her mind like he had in Tokai, but the gold-shrouded figure never even moved. She’d begun to wonder if it was even him under the material. Kukulkan had later said that whoever had been beneath the golden shroud seemed to have been asleep the entire time.

Too many questions. I have to be patient and calm. I have to play their damn game. I’m starting to hate games. I can barely look at a go board anymore.

She stared at the great bed for several seconds then climbed in, unable to help feeling how very large, empty and cold it was.

I hope you are doing better than we are, love. Please be safe…

The idea of having a mon with that many different colours is damaging to its purpose; it becomes harder to recognise at a glance with every bit of added complexity. Which means either every single soldier bearing the mon has to have the multicoloured version, which becomes expensive and pointless; or you have a variance in the mons, which can cause confusion.

Ergo, Maiko herself would favour a simpler colour design for practical reasons.

What I interpret that to mean is that the colour of the mon is not important, only the design. Two mons identical in design but different in colour would be considered the same mon. By extension, they could be any garish rainbow mix, because only the design would matter.

It may also be relevant, before we get too wrapped up, to point out that historical accuracy isn't very important, and indeed may be detrimental.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mon_(crest)

Still, this means I can now properly make a space marine army with them as badges. :3

And you say that like mine wasn't made in paint :P

Cheers though.

Erin made a colourful one in Paint… (I kinda just inverted your one then added colour and shiney blossoms.)

^__^

Pretty flowers are pretty.

Mmm. Pizza of the Three.

*pouts*

Okay, here's my draft image of Maiko's mon. While I'd like a more precise version of it, I know such a version will not come from my hand; I'll just be proud of what I DID do.

And here's the symbolism within it:

At the bottom of the image are three apple leaves, resembling family in a somewhat insulting manner. From them grow cherry blossums, symbolising Maiko's "growth to perfection" by moving away from her heritage; which climb towards the symbol of the storm as she aspires towards the lofty ideals that represent the pinnacle of the Jin warrior.

Not bad, huh? Better than a boring ol' triangle :P

Maiko:
Hookswords
Waves
(Silver) Serpent
Jin's Amulet (what does it look like?)
Dancing Girl
Admiral's Cloak
Heart (for compassion)
Shark :p

Kukulkan:
Fang
Talon
Scale/Feather
Blood
Quetzacoatl
Reptilian Eye
(Trying to think of something funny he's turned into, and all I can come up with is Sang :p)

Sang:
Guan Dao
Kabuto
Crown
Daisho
Scars
Mountain
Squid :p

She had managed to speak to Isadora before the departure, but had come away from it less certain of her friend than before. The young woman simply did not see that she was doing any harm—apparently those she fed from made full recoveries and even enjoyed the process, although Isadora had avoided Sang’s query of whether any of her dinner guests had gone back to active duty while weakened. On the one hand she claimed to have little choice where her biological needs were concerned and was upset to be reviled for what she now was, but on the other she said she liked the abilities her changes had given her. She had even smilingly invited Sang to experience what she had to offer. When Sang broached the possibility of returning to full humanity, Isadora could only say she would have to think about it and the choice was difficult.

After some meaningless chit-chat during the flight with the girl in which both avoided the weightier topics, Sang stared ahead with a heavy heart. In her experience, the changes wrought on people who tried to control various forms of Taint within themselves rarely ended well, especially for those who came to enjoy those changes. On the surface perhaps there was no harm in Isadora’s eating habits, but the same could be said of certain drugs or drink. If trouble crossed the path of any warrior not at his peak, it could mean his death or the deaths of his comrades. Isadora, though, did not see this as her fault. How could it be her fault if someone got attacked after being with her?

It was a logical argument, but in the past she had never been so callous. Isadora could have offered to be careful, to say she’d warn her visitors to go off duty for a while, to not accept those who were serving at the time, that would have been something, but it was like she didn’t even care now. Sang didn’t know if it was life experience that had hardened the girl’s heart, or the influence of what she now was. She wanted to believe it was the latter, and that reversing of the change would make everything better, but couldn’t quite convince herself.

I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to help her.

Why am I thinking this as though it’s something new? When do I ever know what words to use?

It gave her something else to pray and meditate about as they flew to Nakashibetsu. There was a lot of ground to cover, figuratively and literally, so there was plenty of time. Mostly her thoughts roamed between family and friends as she considered some of the burdens each of them carried: Her father, recovering in Tokai; her mother, who stood guard against her own emotions; her husband, growing into his confidence; Kukulkan, who’d lost so much of his family so brutally; Maiko, whose family seemed to only care for her as a political piece; Typhenon, whose family spanned the world and were always in danger.

I suppose I’m part of that family now.

She didn’t know how to feel about that, but for now the thought of siblings had little to no enthusiasm attached to it. In fact, the realisation was more along the lines of a reluctant admission.

Maybe I just need time to get used to the idea…

*

Three brownish-bronze dragons (one of them the Minister of Commerce) met them in the air when they reached the Makoto border, moving to flank and guide once the travellers were identified. Sang concealed her shock and worry that they were all headed straight for the island of Nakashibetsu itself, not one of the shoreside cities. She hadn’t expected to be received straight away, let alone some of her companions. Did the daemon know exactly who was coming?

Moonlight Brilliance and the other dragons spiralled down into the vast grounds outside the palace, where a multitude of courtiers, guards and servants were arrayed. There was a higher area beyond the guards, a dias, where stood the Emperor’s Champion and the Emperor’s Mother. During the descent, Sang gave in to a sudden impulse and focussed on each of the two figures through the amethyst mask the Historian had bestowed.

The bodyguard was instantly surrounded by a faint glow that verified he was human.

The Dowager Emperess, however, was outlined by an ominous red light.

Sang’s indrawn breath hissed sharply between her teeth. She glanced back as Isadora leaned forwards with an inquiring sound and shook her head, saying she’d explain later. They were landing, and this was no place to speak aloud what she’d seen. Her attention returned to the Emperor’s Mother, respendant in all her golden finery.

Gods… she’s a daemon. But that can’t be the one we’re after; it doesn’t fit with the information Typhenon got from that angel, who said it wasn’t hiding in plain sight. It could be helping Zaddikim’s agent—we know that either or both the bodyguard and the dowager willingly serve the Muse.

But it could also mean mean we’re dealing with more than an agent of Zaddikim.

The Dowager Empress was seated on elaborately carved throne of mahogany and brass, robed in layers of golden material that formed a phoenix pattern of flames. On each of her fingertips were carved and jeweled gold talon extensions, and gold ornaments of various shapes glittered in the hair piled atop her head. A pace behind her left shoulder stood the Emperor’s Champion in full golden plate.

The dragons landed (the Minister of Commerce shrank down into a man with green robes) and the party was aided in dismounting. Though her legs had been secured for hours in a less than comfortable position, Sang managed to keep her balance and walk without falling over. A couple of the others moved more stiffly, but they all managed to keep pace as the group moved towards the dais between the crowd of officials and servants.

The soldiers blocking the way to the Imperial Party split into two groups, forming a path. Sang did not avert her gaze from the dowager and the champion, but couldn’t help noticing during the long walk that the height and build of the guards didn’t seem to differ. They all wore grey lamellar armour, and only their eyes were visible.
When they get to the edge of the dais, a vast wave of kowtows flowed through the gathering. Sang fought a quick but fierce internal battle on whether she should bend knee to a daemon. She was repulsed by the notion—she’d been fighting its ilk most of her life, but there was more at stake here than her honour. Most importantly, there were people with her who would probably suffer if she did something imprudent.

“Would you be terribly adverse to the idea of me bowing to a daemon?” she thought, trying to speak silently to Lord Yu.

“You don’t owe it any allegiance,” he replied. “If you owe it no allegiance then a bow is a hollow gesture.”

“It still feels wrong.”

It was inherently deceptive, and by being submissive she was perpetuating the lie. She tried to soothe her anger against the situation by reminding herself that she and the others were here to rip away that veil. To succeed at that, though, she’d need a more subtle method than remaining stubbornly upright.

Maiko, too, was still standing as the others around her dropped to the ground. Sang tried not to glance too obviously at her, wondering if the Jin was going to do here what she’d done in Tokai. But then she realised the Jin’s manner was completely different; she wasn’t still standing due to a stiff neck, but because something had shaken her so badly she’d frozen. Sang and Kukulkan (she couldn’t see if Typhenon was still standing without turning her head) waited the long seconds until Maiko’s recovery, then kowtowed with her.

“You may rise,” the Empress Dowager proclaimed. “We are pleased to receive on behalf of the Emperor our most esteemed of servants, and amongst others who serve our will. Come. A great banquet is prepared.”

They stood and saw a number of servants turn and lift the dais, then begin to carry it towards the heart of the island. Once neither the dowager nor the champion were looking, Sang glanced at Maiko to see if she was all right, and received a quick, deeply concerned look. She could only guess at what Maiko had seen, and only nod in return. There was no way to speak without being overheard. Sang didn’t know any of the sailor tricks the Jin used to communicate, and it was unlikely that Maiko knew enough Yu battlecant to translate any code she tried.

As they followed the dais, she focused on random people through her mask, guards, servants and courtiers, but saw no other daemons amongst the throng.

*

The city was more than a castle on an island. The palace itself rose on the far side, and they passed through a number of walled sections to get there. The walls themselves were not something to ignore, as they were at least seventy feet high and perhaps the same in thickness. After the great area they had arrived in there had been expanses of garden, luxurious mansions and temples, further in there was a massively fortified section with banners, armed soldiers and thick gates of solid iron. Before the palace proper was a great space filled with gardens, but the towers and walls surrounding it, each bristling with crossbowmen, made it clear this section could double as a very effective killing ground. They reached the ministerial offices, where a crush of courtiers and officials ran every which way as they tended their usual businesses. Amongst them and around them roamed patrols of soldiers, some on foot, others mounted on horses or even two-stabbers. The ministerial buildings and offices grew higher and more ornate as the party progressed towards the palace, and the people scurrying between them more finely dressed.

Another wall stood between them and the palace, as high as the previous ones, but the soldiers atop them wore armour that was bronzed rather than grey and held ornate repeater crossbows. The heavily ornamented gate to this wall was carved with characters so archaic it was almost difficult to translate: ‘Gate of Dust’.

Beyond, more gardens. Orchards. Blossom trees. Ponds. Natural-looking areas of reed. Meandering bridges and pathways, pergodas and gazebos. Their own path was dead straight through the undulating grassy hills and led to a final wall, beyond which was the massive courtyard of the Imperial Palace. When they entered, an assemblage of officials kowtowed as one, and silver and purple fireworks were fired from the towers to explode overhead.

Lining the road that stretched onwards, filling the courtyard from one side to the other, was a sea of chrysanthemums.

They were white, the colour of mourning.

The dais with its shining gold-clad passengers moved on between the pristine flowers, and to Sang’s eyes it looked almost like a death barge drifting through foam.

I didn’t expect this. I never thought we’d all get inside at the same time. Gods protect them…help me keep my companions safe.

—-

Grew up in the city of Dimrost to noble parents (she has some Silverstari blood in her ancestry, I can't recall if either of her parents were fully Silverstari though). Has at least one brother she is close with, who works with the guard patrolling the surrounding countryside (possibly a captain). She was being raised as a 'proper daughter' but found ways to slip away from her family's estates to explore the city. She found herself drawn to places where she heard music, and started to frequent particular taverns whenever she caught the sound of real minstrels playing or singing for the entertainment of patrons. She learned to sing in places like this, and as time passed she even managed to get paid to 'take the stage' herself.

Eventually her parents informed her of an arranged marriage, and Isadora, not wanting her future decided for her, escaped the city. She managed to get a fair way east (and quite lost) before being captured by orcs, who brought her before Drog, Garreth and Typhenon.

All the reasoning you mention Piro are perfectly valid, and if they were the only factors at play than it would be monstrously inconsistent with Shayu's character to act as he did. As it stands, there are other circumstances at play. For professional reasons I wont state what those circumstances are. All I ask is the benefit of the doubt that I'm playing things appropriately with what I have access to.The best way to find out would be to talk to him IC.

As for Izzy explaining herself, that's unlikely to happen unless pressed. She's been far too secretive so far.

I appreciate people being behind me on this. All will be revealed.

So either Izzy was incredibly charming or persuasive (and she can be), or Shayu has his reasons.

Just in case I don't get enough time to write that far before next session, Sang's in a unique position so it's hard to say whether she considered the event 'important' in the sense of foul play being involved. She knows Shayu is informed about Isadora and Maiko's opinions of her, but she wants to trust Izzy and if she is to treat/accept her like a normal person instead of some kind of monster it's not her place to take either of them to task for messing around or to go flapping her mouth about it like they did something wrong (and on that note, she doesn't want to give Maiko another excuse to dislike Isadora). Yes the party is on alert, but people were on guard—that's what guards are for. With that said, I will add that she hasn't considered Isadora might have used magic to charm Shayu into her bed; it simply wouldn't occur to her and she wouldn't want to believe it if it was suggested (although it would get her thinking).

Ultimately she expects Isadora to offer some sort of explanation privately to her on the next day, and will deal with it then.

She's not going to ignore what she saw, she won't ignore Shayu's safety in this, but it's highly likely she won't treat it as a big deal—if only because she thinks it will widen the rift between her and Izzy. And at the end of the day, the possibility of magic ignored, Shayu knew what he was doing. Sang doesn't intend to start policing people's bed habits.

The first and foremost is Shayu was in the room when Maiko mentioned she was being corrupted by a similar evil to the mother. That in and of itself is enough reason for him to be watching her as hard as Maiko and Kukulkan are.

Secondly, we're in what we're treating as hostile territory, and he knows it. It's highly unprofessional for him to be messing around with this sort of thing when we're on alert and such behaviour is beneath him.

So, basically my main reasons for pointing this out are as follows:

Sang really seemed to shrug off this revelation as if it was unimportant. She might not have in actuality, I don't know, there's no journal entry yet, but I'm worried this is going to be swept under the rug as unimportant.

And of course, there's always the chance the GM just didn't consider the reasons Shayu would really not be interested in Isadora, but here's hoping that wasn't the case.

I just felt a need to poke at this. I'm protective of my minions darnit.

The rest of the day went mostly as hoped. Kaji met with the ambassador before court and, Sang heard later, made the announcement personally that the Yu would have jurisdiction over the debated matter while the Zhengdang, in exchange for allowing this, would receive not only a substantial amount of pig iron and medicinal herbs, but be graced with a royal visit from Kaji himself. He would be leaving the next morning. Sang hadn’t been prepared for that, but given her own history of disappearing from Tokai without warning she was hardly in a position to protest. She did worry a bit about his safety in private, but supposed it would do him good to travel and make contact with a neighboring kingdom.

For her own day, she met with a couple of junior ministers (one of the temple one of the law), explained the eta proposal to them, and spent a couple of hours alternatingly flattering or intimidating them until the edict they drafted said everything she and Kaji wanted it to say and nothing they didn’t. She read it out the same morning to a group of nobles where it was received with little enthusiasm but, more importantly, no objections. On the surface the proclamation looked little more than a grab for power from the throne, albeit a strange one. Why claim all eta and not just the ones that were prominent or even wealthy in their various trades? Sang smiled grimly when she considered what the reactions on the Wall would be when certain people suddenly realised the full ramifications of this law, but was under no illusions that this would solve the problem. Those who really enjoyed pushing defenceless people into the Shadowlands would find their flesh elsewhere. This edict was a start—the protection it afforded the eta was nothing to sneeze at, but she could already see this as merely moving the Shadowlands bait issue to other quarters. Someone would continue to suffer while the problem lived on.

She did not allow her worries to dampen her husband’s mood. Kaji’s spirits remained high all day, most of the night (until they were forced to get some sleep), and were still there in the morning. He found much enjoyment and irony in the fact that he was leaving his wife at Tokai for once, and Sang endured his needling with good humour, happy that, for once, he was happy and taking some assertive choices. He left with Nobutada, a Yu delegation and the representatives of Zhengdang after breakfast. A sizable ceremony saw him off, and Sang concealed her anxiety as much as possible during the departure by trying to convince herself he was in good company. The head ambassador of the Zhengdang was a younger son of their king himself. Perhaps they’d have some common interests.

Take care of yourself, my love. Be careful.

It was only after the departure that Sang noticed neither of her parents were in attendance. She hadn’t followed up on her father’s health in the past two days, and after a moment she realised why. She’d become so used to having people around who could heal you at a touch she’d forgotten that the Yu physician had the abilities of neither Typhenon nor Maiko, and Kukulkan was even more unlikely. Knowing she was leaving in the afternoon for Nakashibetsu, and she still wanted to talk to Shanro and Isadora before that happened, she summoned the physician on the spot.

The news was not good.

“He has a black spot in his lung. It is an infirmary that arises from spending a lifetime on the Wall. Even low levels of Taint accumulate over time. Decades. There are two options,” he went on when Sang, stone-faced, indicated that he continue. “The first is a daily infusion of jade tea which may force it into remission, but that infusion would be daily for the rest of his life. The other option is a form of surgery, but that carries grave risk.”

“Has he been told this?” Sang asked, and, when he nodded, “how did he react?”

“He hospitalised one of my assistants,” the physician replied in a carefully neutral tone. “The bone will heal.”

Sang let out a brief sigh. “I’m sorry about that.”

“He has of course made his decision.”

“What did he say?” Sang asked, but she already knew.

“He has decided on the surgery.”

“When?”

“It can be organised as soon as tomorrow.”

Sang tried to keep her breathing level. After a long pause she said, “We may speak about this again later. Thank you.”

“Majesty,” he said with a bow, and departed.

Sang went to find Typhenon.

The Primarch had been observing the departure of Kaji’s entourage, and fortunately hadn’t left the area yet. None of the others were in evidence, so Sang wasn’t obliged to speak to anyone but him. She was grateful for this. Although she was trying hard not to think too much about the physician’s words, she wasn’t sure she could have endured a debate about them.

She had also practically convinced herself that Typhenon could heal anything.

“I don’t have any skill in these matters,” Typhenon explained after Sang repeated what she’d been told. “I come from an area where the Taint doesn’t really exist, so I’ve never run into anything like it. I don’t know.”

Sang kept her hopes up. “Do you think you could have a look at him and get a better idea?”

Typhenon looked dubious, but he nodded. “I can try.”

“I’d better go with you in case he tries to break your arm.”

“Good luck to him,” the cleric said with a lopsided smile.

Sang decided against mentioning the physician’s assistant.

They went straight away to the tower her parents lived in. Long before they reached the apartments they could hear a horrible hacking cough. Sang maintained a calm face and managed not to break into a run, but could feel her heart pounding. The cough sounded ten times worse than she’d heard previously.

“You’ll have to do the talking and explaining,” Typhenon told her.

“I know. Wait… how much can I explain?”

“How much do they know?”

Sang hesitated. “That you’re a skilled healer?”

“Your mother knew that Kukulkan wasn’t…”

“Ah… I told her that.”

“How much else does she know?”

“Nothing really.” Sang studied the stone steps as they climbed higher. She hadn’t even told Kaji about the gods. It was about the only thing she’d withheld from him. That and what she’d learned about R regarding their children. “She knows that you’re a cleric of the temple in Epiach,” she said, wrenching her thoughts back to the present, “a priest of foreign gods.”

How odd it feels to say that now that I know they’re really our ancestral gods…

“If worst comes to worst,” Typhenon said before she could figure out how to tell him, “I’ll just yell and scream that I’m going to help.”

“Hopefully that won’t be necessary,” Sang replied with a faint smile, and Typhenon chuckled.

“Getting kicked out of your home isn’t high on the list of things I want to do.”

“That won’t happen unless you do something really stupid.”

“Like punch your mum in the face?”

“She’d probably think more highly of you if you did that.”

“Oh? Then I’ll keep it in mind.”

*

Her parents’ room was abuzz with activity and thick with scented smoke. Sticks of incense burned from a small shrine that had been set up near the bed, dedicated to Si An Do, a kami of healing and protection. Sang’s mother stood to one side of the room, her face so studiously impassive that Sang knew the concern hidden beneath the mask. Her father was still on the bed, arranged so that his midsection and feet were raised above his head for whatever medical reason Sang did not know. He was currently in the grip of a coughing spasm that looked to knot every muscle in his body and servants were busy around the bed, some wiping sweat from the aging warrior’s brow and limbs with damp cloths, another using a bowl to catch the gunk he hacked up. The under-physician overseeing them was grinding something with a jade mortar and pestle.

I should have come back sooner. Why did I wait? What if it’s too late?

Easy…be calm…

“Tell me what you want done before you start yelling orders,” Sang cautioned softly.

“Get that bloody incense out of here,” Typhenon growled. “We need fresh air.” He looked about at the walls, probably for windows, but there were none. He nodded towards the under-physician. “And find out what she’s making for him.” He looked at Sang’s father. “And sit him up.”

Sang had focused on the first order. “I’ll have to order them all out of the room to do that,” she said.

“Fine.”

Not only would there be objections and shock if she put out the incense, or ordered it be doused, she thought Typhenon would at some point use his arts on her father. As soon as anyone saw that there would be trouble. Sang drew a breath and lifted her voice to a command. “Leave.”

Every eye in the room turned to her and there was a sudden silence. Only Sang could read the ‘What the hell are you doing?’ look in her mother’s face.

“No,” the under-physician said. “Majesty, no. Your father is dying, this needs to be—“ She stopped, looked at the mortar and pestle in her hands and repeated, “No,” before going back to her grinding. As though her defiance had been a signal, her assistants also returned to their tasks. The house servants hesitated though, glancing between physician and queen.

Sang hardened her tone. “I said leave.”

She was ignored. The servants, after a few more furtive looks, began to help the under-physician’s assistants again.

All right. Tyrant it is.

Sang advanced on the under-physician, gripping the Blade hard but being careful to hold it in a non-threatening position. The other woman looked up when approached and met the bushi’s gaze with a cold stare, but after a moment her eyes flickered with uncertainty. Sang pressed her advantage, glared, and the under-physician began to quail.

Typhenon put a gentling hand on Sang’s arm.

“You,” Sang ordered, pointing at the physician, “wait outside the door.”

The woman had managed to hide her spark of fear with anger, but she stalked from the room without a word. Everyone else went after her, and when Sang saw her mother leaving she called out to her to stay. Akiko did not respond, and even though Sang could see her mother was as furious as the healer, she went after her and caught her arm.

“Mother—“

Akiko rounded on her, livid-faced, and tried to pull away, but Sang instinctively tightened her grip.

Her mother spat in her face.

Sang stared at her in shock, unable to react at first. A punch, an elbow, a kick would have been something. But this?

“You will stop trusting me now?” she whispered in despair, and in response Akiko averted her face to stare off into the adjoining room.

“Sang, just let her go,” Typhenon said from somewhere behind her, “we don’t have time for this.”

When her mother again pulled to free herself, Sang did not stop her. She slid the door closed with a trembling hand then clenched a fist and took a breath past the constriction in her throat.

Satake’s hacking cough redoubled from the bed.

Mum hates me and dad’s dying.

She pushed away from the door, strode to the shrine and very nearly put out the incense with Lord Yu’s Blade.

Calm…stay calm…oh, gods…

Carefully, she pulled out the joss sticks and overturned them to snuff them out, then she turned to the bed as Satake went into another coughing fit.

Typhenon had reworked her father’s posture; he now lay with his head raised, but she could see little benefit to the old warrior’s condition. Perhaps it was because the room was still hazed with smoke. As she watched, Satake convulsed and coughed up something black onto the bedspread, which twitched like some sort of revolting slug and immediately reminded Sang of the matter Maiko had hacked up in the Pyramid of Blood. She reached over and scraped it up with the head of Lord Yu’s Blade, where it sizzled on the metal as though cooking before it vaporised.

“I’m going to need your help,” Typhenon said. “The girl who had the mortar and pestle, get her back in here now. Then see if you can organise a room with a window.” He put a hand to Satake’s chest and Sang went back to the door, slipping into the outer room.

The under-physician was pacing the floor with a thunderous expression. Her eyes had daggers in them when Sang ordered her back into the bedroom and to answer any of Typhenon’s questions, but she obeyed. Sang lingered a second longer to look at her mother, who knelt in a far corner of the room before the house shrine. Akiko did not turn around, and Sang, biting her tongue to keep quiet, stepped back into the bedroom and closed the door between them again.

“What’s in the mortar and pestle?” Typhenon was asking from where he knelt by Satake’s head. Whatever he’d done when Sang had left the room, her father was still coughing violently.

“Leaves of the white lily,” the under-physician replied.

“And that does?”

“Makes the jade petal tea.”

“Can you get someone to continue making that? I need your help to bring up the phlegm.”

“Her Majesty, in her wisdom, dismissed all of my attendants,” the woman said bitingly.

“Then her Majesty can go and get them back, please?” Typhenon asked in Sang’s direction.

“Perhaps her Majesty can prepare the tea,” the woman suggested.

Without argument, Sang set the Blade aside and picked up the jade mortar and pestle. “What do I do?”

“Grind it,” the under-physician ordered succinctly.

“I want him moved to a room with a window,” Typhenon told the physician as Sang set to work. “He needs fresh air.”

The woman shook her head. “The kami of air will assist in no way with this.”

“I don’t give a damn.”

“A room with a window,” Sang repeated, but the under-physician only looked confused. As far as the people here believed, by praising the kami with incense it would help Satake’s affliction. They thought the smoke was cleansing, while Typhenon said it was choking.

“Grind it into a paste,” the woman said suddenly, as much to give instructions as to get away from the subject Sang suspected. “Add holy water from that jar as is necessary to change it to a smooth consistency. The Master Physician will be here soon.”

He blustered in a few minutes later, garbed in a white kimono. It was not an auspicious colour, as Silverstari associated it with death and mourning. Clearly he had changed his schedule to do the surgery today.

“Majesty,” the master physician said when he saw her, and bowed, but didn’t hide his confusion at the sight of the mortar and pestle. Apparently he had heard nothing of her ordering the room empied earlier, but he asked no questions and at once began to issue orders to those entering the room behind him.

A trail of servants followed in his wake carrying cases, bottles, bowls, bandages, rope. This last item, several stout lengths of the stuff, was immediately used to bind Satake’s arms and legs so that he would not be able to thrash or flail. Sang had seen such restraining measures taken before, but when one of the cases was opened to reveal the gleaming, cruel-looking contents her composure nearly cracked. There were knives with blades both broad and fine, needles and saws, clamps and hammers.

One of the attendants distracted her from the torture-scene playing in her head by heading for the shrine, for amongst the physician’s orders had been a command to relight the joss sticks. Sang intercepted him by standing directly in his path. She was still grinding the jade petal tea, and the repetitive motion altered subtly as she eyed the now-apprehensive servant.

“No incense.”

“Majesty?”

“No incense.”

“But if the kami are not appeased there may be problems—“

“I’ll take care of that,” Typhenon interrupted.

The physician glanced at the southerner with undisguised distrust. “Majesty, I have to protest in the firmest possibly fashion.”

“Your protests are heard,” Sang told him. “No incense.”

“And the gaijin?”

“He stays.”

“What are your qualifications?” the physician demanded of Typhenon as the servant before Sang gingerly took the mortar and pestle from her and to the under-physician, who tipped it into a pot of boiling water.

The jade petal tea was administered; they had to hold Satake’s head and force the mixture down his throat between coughs, but once he’d taken in enough his fits subsided. A clear liquid that was not water was given to him next, and while Sang didn’t know what it was she could tell by how her father began to phase out that it must be some sort of drug.

The master physician, after a quick glance to ensure everything was in order, reached a hand into the case and pulled out a knife. Then he began to cut Sang’s father open.

*

It was not pleasant, and it was not fast. The flesh was peeled back and the ribs systematically broken and bent back on the right side of Satake’s chest. Even though the assistants worked swiftly to clamp arteries, there was blood everywhere and on everyone.

When her father’s innards were exposed, surrounded on one side by the jagged, up-thrusting ribs, Sang had to grip Lord Yu’s Blade hard to keep her mind from plunging back into the Mother’s nightmare where Kaji had been similarly spread-eagled and gutted. There was a moment though, as she stared down at her father’s body, a hideous flash of recollection of Lord Yu commanding her to kill her father in recompense for sacrificing Kaji. She beat the false memories back angrily.

Kaji’s not dead. Dad’s not dead. See, that’s his heart beating. Those are his lungs breathing. The physician is skilled and Typhenon won’t let him die.

The physician washed his hands and carefully probed each lung with his fingers, shifting them around and examining closely. Before too long he had found a tumourous black lump on one of them, and with a delicate blade he began to cut painstakingly into the membrane nearby. During the process the lump moved once or twice, almost as though flinching away from the knife, but before long it was extracted, almost squirted out of its filmy pouch, and dropped into a bowl of holy water where it hissed and sizzled with a foul smell.

The physician then went through the lengthy process of putting Satake back together. Paste was applied to the broken ribs before they were set, the great flaps of skin were folded back over the exposed chest and stitched finely with a tempered needle.

As soon as it was done, Typhenon stepped forward and laid a hand against the surgical wound. Within the space of a second, it had healed.

Silence filled the room as completely as the lingering smoke.

The master physician stared, gave Typhenon a look of mingled horror and confusion, then turned to Sang with an expression that clearly demanded to know what was going on. Sang tried to ignore it, but had the sickening feeling she was headed very fast towards a very solid wall and there was no way she could possibly avoid a collision.

“He will recover now?” she asked in a voice that was steadier than she felt.

“Kami only know,” the physician burst out, regarding Typhenon as though he were dangerous. “Get it out of here! Majesty.”

Two of the more burly attendants began to advance on Typhenon.

“Leave him,” Sang ordered quietly.

“Majesty, he has committed a crime!”

“What crime is that?”

“The practise of foul magicks, on your father of all persons! He must be arrested now.”

“Foul magic?” Typhenon protested with some heat. “What of you people lighting incense and using smoke in the room of someone who has a problem with his lungs?”

“Majesty?” the physician pressed after shooting Typhenon a filthy glare.

“How is there anything foul about him using his arts to complete my father’s healing after your help?” Sang asked.

“Who’s to know what he’s done?”

Sang flung out a hand to point at Satake’s chest, which bore scars aplenty but no hint of the huge cross-section that had been there moments before. “Besides heal the scars?”

“And plant all manner of unknown enchantments or foul things within!”

“Do you want to cut him open again to check everything’s in order?” Sang asked, her voice rising with her anger.

“It tempts me!” the physician shot back.

“It won’t be necessary. He has performed these arts on me, so I judge them fit for my father.”

His eyes narrowed. “I feel beholden to inform you, Majesty, that aiding and abetting the practise of foul magicks is also a crime,” he said. “A crime punishable by execution in its most severe instances.”

“Then you can take it up with the king when he returns.”

The physician said nothing to that, although it was quite likely that was exactly what he’d do. She’d be tried for heresy, just as she’d feared would happen. Kaji would be forced to judge her. No… this had to be headed off before it left the room. Her mind worked furiously to figure out how. She knew there was nothing she could say that would convince the physician she wasn’t in thrall to Typhenon or black magic after what she’d said so far, any more than Typhenon had been able to convince her about the Three. He needed visible evidence that the Primarch wasn’t evil.

Her fingers shifted on the guan dao’s haft.

Kaji feared that the Blade would destroy him if he touched it. Is that belief shared?

“All right,” she said. “How about this? Would you be satisfied if he held Lord Yu’s Blade without burning to death on the spot?” When the physician frowned thoughtfully, she elaborated: “Surely if his arts are foul and against all the Silverstari believe, then the spirit of Lord Yu would strike him down.”

It wasn’t really a deception, Sang thought. For all she knew, if someone really evil tried to wield the Blade they would be incinerated.

“I’m not a priest, but it stands to reason,” the physician concurred.

Sang turned her head to look at Typhenon then leaned the Blade towards him. Typhenon took it from her and held it in both hands.

The physician waited, then looked at the Primarch in consternation as he failed to burst into flames. It was clear that what he saw was convincing, but he was quite obviously looking for the trick behind what his eyes were seeing.

“Your blade, your Majesty?” Typhenon offered politely, extending the weapon back.

“Thank you.” She looked at the physician. “And thank you for your work here today. It was most skilled.”

There was another long moment, then the physician nodded. “He should be immersed in a warm bath of jade water for at least three hours, and then given as much rest over the next… well, normally the ribs would require three months or more to set, but—“

“They are set,” Typhenon said.

The physician looked like a man waging an internal war. Sang, remembering how hard she had taken the revelation that so much she’d been brought up to believe was a lie, did not try to push him. Nor would she explain, though. There was no time for it today, and time was what he needed to recover just now.

“Normally you’d be against moving a patient for how long?” Typhenon asked.

“Usually half an hour,” the physician said, “and then into the bath.”

“And how long would they normally require bed rest?”

“For the entirety of those three months. As it stands, the weakness and general nausea and the like should pass within a few days. Without the ribs or other complications to plague him, he should be up and about in a couple of days.” Sang noticed the physician’s words became more confident as he talked about his trade.

“How about we tell him he has to stay in bed for a week,” Typhenon suggested slyly, “so when he finally tries to start getting up it’ll be about the same time when he’s ready to.”

Satake’s groggy voice came from the bed. “That’d work better if I weren’t asleep at the moment.”

Typhenon half-turned towards the bed, practically smirking. “Two weeks. And if you keep arguing, we’ll make it a month.”

Sang was already at the bedside untying the ropes that still bound her father’s ankles and wrists. Satake made a mumbling reply to Typhenon and a feeble pull of one arm, but was still rather clearly out of it.

“Try to be good when you can think clearly,” she told him as she undid the last rope, but wasn’t sure if he could even recognise her in this state.

“I’m always good, except when I’m bad, and even then I’m good at it,” he slurred.

She grinned a little but, conscious of the other people still in the room, stopped short of bending down to hug or kiss him. Relieved and happy as she was that he’d recover, she was not comfortable with public displays of affection. She tried to content herself with patting one of his hands. Even that was enough to make her eyes sting.

“Do you mind if I go?” she asked Typhenon who was helping to clean up. “I still have some people I need to talk to before we leave.”

“You might want to clean up first,” he suggested, looking pointedly at her kimono. “You’re a bit splattered.”

A servant was dispatched to fetch a clean kimono, and Sang quit the bedroom before she could embarrass herself by crying. Akiko was still kneeling before the house shrine, not acknowledging the activity that was happening behind her as servants and orderlies carried things from the apartments.

Sang braced herself and approached her mother. She stopped a little behind her right shoulder, but did not make the mistake of touching her after what had happened before. “He’ll be all right,” she said in a level, respectful tone. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

She waited a second, both hoping for and fearing some kind of reaction.

Akiko did not stand, but she did look back at her daughter. The anger was desperate and forced…a façade to mask her gratitude and relief. Sang could not remember the last time she’d seen her mother so close to tears. She held back on the impulse to kneel and embrace her. She may have been forgiven the earlier incident, but wasn’t sure her mother’s pride would see past her daughter making her weep in public.

Sang nodded, unable to speak, and left.

At this point I’m almost willing to believe she doesn’t know what the proper forms are.

They sat down together to eat a midmorning meal and talked, at first about inconsequential things, but then about the journey to Nakashibetsu. After some discussion about distance and means of travel, it was decided they go by dragon. Kaji also suggested they take Isadora when them, as she would be departing Tokai for the same destination in only a few days. The Epiach diplomat was summoned and, after a back and forth between her and Kaji where she remained as formal and polite as though she considered no one in the room a friend, she accepted the offer to travel with the group to Nakashibetsu. She left the room immediately afterwards, but became the subject of debate at the table.

“That is a very different young woman,” Typhenon murmured sadly, and Sang nodded.

“It will be a four hour flight to Nakashibetsu,” was the bushi’s dry response. “She has to talk some time.”

“And every chance of accidents,” Kaji said, in a voice so serious that Sang glanced at him in surprise and one of Maiko’s brows went up.

“What?” Typhenon asked, looking slightly shocked.

“Pardon?” Kaji blinked, then, as though realising what he’d just said, reached for the teapot. “Would anyone like another drink?”

“No thanks,” the Primarch said in a flat voice.

“She can’t have changed that much,” Sang said, trying to relax. “Beyond changing back, I mean.”

“Not yet,” Kukulkan said ominously.

“She is tainted,” Maiko added. “Not by the Shadowlands.”

“I know that,” Sang replied, a tad impatiently.

Come on, people. You’re so certain you can change R, aren’t you? Why should Isadora be a hopeless case?

“It’s seeping into her.”

“That wouldn’t surprise me either.”

“But if she’s willing,” Maiko persisted, “I may be willing to remove it with Jin’s aid.”

Typhenon sighed. “What if she’s not?”

“If she’s not, maybe an accident should occur,” the Jin said.

Sang’s glared, but not as angrily as she might have. “Don’t even suggest that.”

Kaji’s offhand, almost accidental suggestion had shocked her, but Maiko’s calm seconding of the idea was worse. It incensed her. How dare Isadora be judged so harshly when someone like R, who’d doubtless done worse and for longer, was coddled? Because R had once been a wondrous warrior for good and he’d be a great asset if he was converted, while Isadora was somehow less worth the trouble? Sang had mentioned the comparison between the two before Isadora had been summoned, to which Maiko had basically said that she trusted R more due to the fact that the elf had never wronged her, while she was sure Isadora had been up to something with members of her crew in the past.

Even though Maiko had doubtlessly been correct about Isadora’s activities, Sang did not think it was fair. The friendship she still held for the girl (who had fought at her side both before and after her change) combined with the injustice that R be thought more highly of only made her want to defend Isadora more fiercely. There was also a part of her deep down that felt hurt, bitter and angry that, even after she’d spoken of R’s plan for her children, Maiko’s trust in him was apparently as strong as ever.

How can I know the truth, know that we’re safe from him, and still feel so much like a wounded animal? Will I let it poison my friendships as well, now?

Sang let out a long breath, shook her head and tried to soften her tone. “If you think you can change Isadora back, Maiko, then hopefully she will accept. I don’t see why she wouldn’t.”

Maiko made an unconvinced sort of sound, but said, “Indeed.”

“Well, you’ll have time to talk to her,” Kaji said, “on the flight or beforehand. Perhaps if you went and talked to her and I stayed behind… With me in the room she can retreat behind the expected level of formality. Without me there, that façade becomes a little more untenable.”

“I’ll approach her later,” Sang said, “see how it goes.”

“Would you like me to go along as well?” Typhenon asked.

Sang considered, then shook her head. “I think if too many people go she’ll feel… outnumbered.”

“She has a whole house full of people.”

“Yes, but—“

“I know,” Typhenon interrupted. “It’s different.”

“She’s afraid of Kukulkan,” Maiko said suddenly.

“Who isn’t, in one way or another?” Sang remarked with a wry smile at where the shapeshifter sat.

Maiko pressed her point. “She’s very afraid of Kukulkan. And very good at hiding it.”

“Probably something to do with what she’s turning into,” Typhenon explained.

Sang looked back to Kukulkan. “I trust you’re not going to do anything permanent to her?” she asked, and had to force the next words: “Unless the situation demands it?”

“If the situation demands it I will have to,” Kukulkan said. “But not before.”

Sang nodded to his words, which sounded odd without the sibilance customary to his Shyless form. No matter Kukulkan’s eagerness to open fire at enemies before they’d even personally made a threatening gesture, she knew he could control himself… just so long as Isadora could do the same.

*

Kaji and Sang eventually had to leave to attend court where the delegation from Zhengdang was still haggling with the Yu about who would have jurisdiction over border violations. By the time it turned to evening neither side had agreed on anything, and the meeting was adjourned until the next morning. Sang found her fists itching to beat heads against each other as she and Kaji swept regally from the hall. There were more important things to discuss than whose naginata was the longer.

That thought, minus the comparison in weapon lengths, was forefront in her mind during dinner and after she and Kaji retired to their rooms. There were plenty of things she thought needed to be changed, but not everything could be done straight away. Other things would have to be done subtly to avoid an uproar, and being delicate wasn’t one of her strengths. It was early in the morning when she fell asleep, where, after much pondering on which of the many changes would be beneficial to the most people, she drifted off on the subject of how one could ban the abhorrent practise of herding peasants or eta into the Shadowlands as bait to tempt recalcitrant oni into showing themselves.

*

Kaji gently woke her the next morning.

“You’re giving me bad habits,” Sang muttered after realising, having burrowed into the blankets at her husband’s initial attempts to rouse her, how reluctant she was to actually rise.

“What bad habits?” he asked.

“Sleeping in.”

“It’s seven in the morning.”

“Oh.” Sang eyed him, then remembered that until recently she’d been in the habit of rising at dawn almost an hour earlier than this. “I mean, exactly.” He made a face at her as she rose into a sitting position, then she asked, still not quite awake, “Why are we getting up? Why am I getting up?”

“We’re due in court,” he replied, as though it should have been obvious.

“In the morning?”

“Yes. I just don’t attend the morning sessions. At least, not until now.” He grinned. “I thought I’d surprise them a little.”

“Hm.” Sang rubbed sleep from her eyes and looked at her husband thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose you know anything about making proposals and not just listening to whatever is being presented by others?”

“What do you mean about making proposals?”

“Instigating changes.”

He raised a curious brow. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Mm. Actually. I was thinking about that… practise of herding civilians outside the Wall as a lure for oni. Do you know about that one?”

He looked sombre. “Yes.”

“It’s probably… well, if it’s quiet in the Shadowlands along the Wall as I’ve heard it is at this point in time, it’s probably become more commonplace recently.” She paused, he nodded and she continued. “It’s not a legalised thing so it wouldn’t be as though you were changing an existing law, but there could be a law made against it.” Again she hesitated but this time he didn’t reply. “It wouldn’t be popular with some,” she admitted, turning her attention to noble public opinion, “but it might impress others who dislike the practise.”

Certainly the ones we’d want to impress, I suppose. Those who don’t like it can go f—

“Don’t take this the wrong way of course, love, but they are peasants,” Kaji said. “I mean, a lot of people will—“ he broke off and lifted both palms to forestall Sang’s interruption when he noticed his wife had started to swell like an angry fugu. He went on after she quietly subsided. “A lot of people will quote the concept of the Celestial Order that we operate in: eta, peasants, samurai, Emperor, Heaven, that it’s our right as samurai to do that, you would be infringing on a noble right, and in fact blaspheming against Heaven by taking that right away.”

“Perhaps,” Sang remarked, a touch of acid in her voice, “if these people were Silverstari and not Yu. Isn’t it sort of cowardly to herd out defenceless civilians, peasants or whatnot, instead of going out yourself?”

Kaji gazed at her for a moment then wandered to a table at one side of the room, shaking his head. He poured himself a small glass of alcohol, and Sang could easily pick up the strong scent of the drink from where she sat.

“It’s a bit early for that, isn’t it?” she asked, hiding her worry that she was not only failing to convince him about her idea, but driving him to drink at seven in the morning.

“It’ll wake me up,” Kaji assured her, and poured the stuff down his throat with a grimace. “All right.” He began to pace. “Eta by definition are outside the social order, which means they are free for others to do to them as they wish. Peasants are usually too valuable. Why drive twenty peasants off their land when they could be growing rice? Nobody cares about poets and undertakers and things like that.” He stopped, looked at the wall in front of him, then turned around and paced back again. “If they’re outside the social order, could cre… could create an edict that they are the property of the king.” He halted again, blinked, then clapped his hands once. An excited light had come to his eyes. “It works! Create an edict that all eta are property of the king! If I own them, any noble considering doing that”—he gestured at Sang—“requires my express permission!”

Sang stared at her husband in surprise. That idea would never have occurred to her. Even if it had she didn’t think she could have suggested it herself. She didn’t like the idea of owning people as though they were pieces of furniture or livestock, but couldn’t deny that if claiming them as property right now could spare any lives then the idea shouldn’t be dismissed just because of her sensitivities.

Kaji was still pacing, though with increased energy. “And of course, given that I and our children will be raised to consider that practise abhorrent, there won’t be issues of the king mass herding people out—it works, it actually works!”

It would work, at least for the moment. Neither Kaji nor Sang could really vouch for how their children or grandchildren would be like when they came to rule, but then who knew how long the ruling class would be around considering the wars that were coming? And maybe some day the eta could be protected without having to be owned. Maybe they could just be seen as people.

“It’s no affront to the Celestial Order or any noble rights or anything like that because the eta by definition are outside society. They won’t gain any status or anything like that, but as my exclusive property—“ Kaji stopped midsentence, realising something else, “—and they won’t be able to be randomly killed anymore either, because doing that would be destroying the king’s property! Not murder, but still… still more rights than they currently have at the moment.”

“More protection,” Sang corrected, staring in admiration now. She hadn’t even considered the samurai’s right to strike and kill a lower ranked person who affronted them. It was something she knew needed to be remedied, but it flowed over all castes; it wasn’t only eta who suffered from it.

“More protection,” he agreed. “Killing an eta would be destroying my property, which would be punishable.”

“It also means,” Sang cautioned, “that if you own them, you’re responsible for crimes they commit.”

Kaji’s stride checked as he considered that. “True,” he said reluctantly. Then he waved a hand and kept striding across the room. “That is true but it’s not important. I’m happy to suffer any problem that they cause. Eta are expected to do certain things which are considered dishonourable or criminal. I mean, by becoming my property they can’t be summarily killed for their actions, which means they will have to be tried like any person would be. It’s more than they have now.” He grinned suddenly. “It works!” He paced some more, thinking. “You’re right, of course,” he said. “There will be some people where, say, their crops fail and they can’t pay their tithes so their lord might…” he made a motion in the general direction of the Wall. “That’s something we’ll have to work on, but for now at least the vast majority of people who are suffering we can in one fell swoop fix all of that!” He clapped again, then looked at his wife. “You’ll have to do it.”

They argued a little bit on that point. Sang wanted Kaji to do this, as it would be an active move and it might gain him respect in certain quarters. Kaji countered that he, as the king, had to be present for the ongoing discussions about aerial defense jurisdiction and it would be too much of an affront for him to not attend or suddenly introduce his own pet proposal. Sang objected that the other court was just going around in circles, and when she asked her husband how he thought that whole business could end they got into a debate about what outcome would be appreciated by both sides. After some discussion, Kaji brought up that he was sure that the Zhengdang were holding out so much for the sake of pride rather than any desire for the jurisdiction that was being argued over, as they wouldn’t want to go along with the Yu’s assumption of authority too easily.

“If we push forward with Yu authority it would satisfy those puffing peacocks in the room,” Kaji decided. “The Zhengdang are just arguing to get as much as they can before giving in. If we can offer them tokens of our esteem, trade concessions or something like that to sweeten it a little…”

“Perhaps,” Sang agreed dubiously. “But how long will the court argue about what’s an appropriate deal?”

“We don’t call it a treaty or anything because that will cause more arguments,” Kaji said, “we just call it a gift. In exchange for recognising our jurisdictional supremacy in this matter,” he added, taking on a more formal cadence, “we will offer you this as a token of our esteem.” He smiled at Sang. “Then it’s a gift, and they can’t argue a gift. It would be impolite!”

She bowed her head thoughtfully. “Well, if you’re sure they’re just arguing for pride and don’t really want jurisdiction—“

“I’m positive. I’m sure they’re just doing this so they’re not seen as capitulating too early and too easily.”

“—then that is probably the best idea.”

Kaji nodded, pacing a few more quick steps. “I’m just going to have to talk to someone, maybe get the Zhengdang minister alone and…” He stopped, struck by another idea. “I”ll have him for breakfast!”

“Not literally, I hope,” Sang commented without thinking.

“No, no, no!” Kaji swung to face her and Sang’s eyes widened when she saw the sudden pallor of his face and realised what memory her words had provoked: their wedding feast.

“I’m sorry,” she apologised quickly, getting up. “I’d mercifully forgotten about that.”

“I wish I—“ he cut off, then came over and hugged her, kissing the top of her head. “It’s all right. It’s all right… I’ll invite him to breakfast. We’ll talk about his country, I’ll express a level of genteel and kingly interest in the nature of his land, and through that I can get an idea of economy, their culture, what they can produce and I can better guage a gift that will be advantageous to them.”

Sang smiled. “You’d better move quickly then, or you’ll miss breakfast.”

Kaji snorted and released her. “I’m already up four hours before I usually am, that’s plenty of hours left in the day. And while I’m doing this, you can present that proposal of yours—“

“I thought the idea was that you could get the Zhendang matter done quickly so you could present this proposal!”

“I might be able to present the proposal in two or three days time,” Kaji told her. “On the other hand you could do it now. Today. This morning. You’ll probably need to draw a minister aside to draft the proposal in legalese so it’ll be official, but that shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours. Then you could present it and be done by lunch time!” When Sang continued to look reluctant, Kaji added, “Better than waiting a couple of days,” and she finally gave in with a nod. Preventing a number of unwarranted, cold-blooded deaths would of course win out against who ended up making the proclamation.

“You have to have some sort of breakfast,” he reminded her quickly, “and I’m—“ He paused consciously, took a deep breath and assumed a calm face. “I’m going to get dressed. I’m going to arrange to have breakfast with the Zhengdang minister and we’ll get this ball rolling.” He bent to hug his wife again, lifting her clear off the floor and rocking her from side to side with his enthusiasm, gave her a quick peck on the cheek, hastily pulled a plain kimono on and threw an obi around his waist. He was almost to the door before Sang grabbed his arm and pulled him back to ensure he was dressed properly for court and had his hair combed. He left after that with eager steps and a confidence she’d never seen in him where state business was concerned. The sight filled her heart with pride and hope.

Please let this work for him.

Realising that had been a prayer and not voiceless words flung into the Void, she bit her lip and glanced to where the Blade hung on one of the walls. She wasn’t sure if Lord Yu could hear her when they weren’t in physical contact, or if there was some ritual formula she was expected to preface her thoughts with before the gods would listen.

She couldn’t remember if Typhenon sat or knelt when he prayed. She chose to kneel, facing the guan dao.

I’m sorry, she thought simply, her eyes on the floor. I have not been quick to trust you—any of you, even after all you’ve done for me personally, and for those I love. I was angry and… in my heart, I was afraid. Of what would happen if I turned to you, of the future, of failing those under my care. I… still am. But the future will come no matter where I stand. I would rather try to change it for the better than let it stay how it is, or become something worse.

And I’ve just realised…no…I finally believe…you care what happens to the people down here as much, probably even more, than I do.

What I’m trying to say is… I think I’m ready now.

If you’ll still have me, of course.

All domains are in the Core book or Spell Compendium except the following.
Alteration: Dragonlance Campaign setting p103
Bestial: Book of Vile Darkness p80
City Domain: Races of Destiny p162
Corruption: Book of Vile Darkness p80
Death Domain: IK Character Guide p286
Destruction: IK Character Guide p287
Mechanika: IK Character Guide p289

In addition, all elemental Domains use the granted powers from the IK Character Guide. The lsit of granted spells is unchanged.

MONTH 1
1 Epiach saved from T'char's invasion. Temujin killed. Chi reinforcements sent by Elemental Masters seek control over tainted area in city. Sang informed by Hida Ka that she has a wedding arranged for her back in Yu lands to youngest son of Yu Daimyo. Piro ordered by Chugi to watch Sang and kill her if what she does is not in the best interests of the Empire.
2 Sang, Piro, Jin, Isadora and Ka arrive at Tosa via magic. Crypt of Kuni Daimyo (Samariku) invaded by undead. Body stolen.
3 Sang, Piro, Jin, Isadora and Ka ride to Tokai. Ka revealed as Hida Kaji, the one Sang is to marry.
4 Marriage of Kaji and Sang. Typhenon attends. Blood mage agent of Thyrul infiltrates ceremony. Cooks murdered and human flesh added to wedding feast. Yu Daimyo Hida Kuroda murdered by agent. Agent wounded and imprisoned. Kaji personally severs prisoner's right hand.
5 Shadowlands move in force against the wall. Other information suggests Taint manifesting within the walls of Tokai. Kaji's older brothers are slain in battle. Typhenon, Sang, Piro, Jin and Isadora locate source of Taint below an inn and destroy the liche and its acolytes below. Piro and Jin slain in combat. Thyrul and servants get into Tokai and attack remnants of party when they emerge. Passing samurai Kakita Bei aids the fight, but he, Typhenon and Sang are overcome and Isadora flees to find help. Thyrul spirits Typhenon away. An enemy of Thyrul seeks Sang out and provides direction to Thyrul's citadel, on the priviso they use this knowledge to destroy him. Kaji becomes Yu Daimyo as the last surviving son of Hida Kuroda. Typhenon tortured by Thyrul.
6 Sang, Isadora, Bei and two Yu scouts fly into Shadowlands territory and infiltrate Thyrul's citadel. Thyrul's and unknown phylactery destroyed. Harlequin kills scouts. Thyrul kills Bei. Typhenon destroys Thyrul. Typhenon takes some soul crystals (including Piro's and Jin's) and the party flees. Typhenon drop's Jin's crystal, and Chuda Shinobu coalesces. Party teleports to Epiach where Epiach army and undead army face off. Undead beaten (info?)
7 Garreth crowned Caesar and married to Euryganeia.
8 Usami Maiko agrees to carry transport Sang, Isadora and Shinobu to Yu lands on The Silver Serpent.
?? Travel.
18 The Silver Serpent docks at the Numaja. Sang received by Jin King & Queen.
19 The Silver Serpent departs the Numaja.
?? Travel.
21 The Silver Serpent forced to beach itself off the coast of the island of Wuhai following an attack that damaged the ship. Sang, Maiko and Isadora row to the island for supplies and aid. Lord of the island offers shelter. During the night he is assassinated.
22 Maiko and Sang go to the monastery in the middle of the island forest in search of the son of the island's lord. They are attacked by servants of the Mother en route, and discover Jin's Temple. Maiko infected by shark-daemon. Maiko is chosen by Jin. Son is found severely malnourished beneath the desecrated temple and returned to his home. Silver Serpent remains where it is for repairs. Sang, Maiko, Isadora and Shinobu take passage on another ship to proceed to Yu lands, meeting up with a Yu juggernaut captained by ?? on the way.
?? Travel.
26 Dock on east coast of Yu kingdom. Party heads inland towards Tokai. Maiko overcome by hunger of shark-daemon. Jin intervenes and Maiko devours a wayward oni instead of party members.
27 Maiko discovered naked by rest of party near half-eaten oni. Maiko does not explain.
28 Arrival at Tokai. Isadora and Shinobu remain in city, Isadora as a diplomat from Epiach. Shinobu begins to regain memories of Kuni Jin.
29 Sang and Maiko teleported back to Epiach. Jin leads Maiko to join Typhenon. Theosteris joins party. Typhenon summons Hedoramod. Party heads south to deal with Herald of the Fimblewinter.
30 Typhenon becomes Avatar of the Three.

MONTH 2
1 Maiko overcome by shark-daemon when wounded in battle. She takes on its form temporarily in view of companions, but Typhenon's presence allows her to remain in control of herself.
2 Party encounters Yu in the wilderness. After convincing them she is their queen, Sang directs them to the city of Myronment.
3 Herald of the Fimblewinter defeated. Its sword is left behind. Some of the party fly into the Sunken Tower to free Tawny, Surd and ??. Kukulkan flies these to Myronment then returns. Typhenon and Theosteris perform ritual to sanctify area while the others hold off monsters that emerge from the pit. Hedoramod slain. R (Adneil) defeats final monster as he appears within a pavillion. Speaks with party members and gives gifts. Typhenon gets a broken mirror that can be used to communicate with R. Kukulkan gets information about his connection to Fu Leng. Maiko gets information about Kanaye. Theosteris gets tome of elven language. Sang gets a small bracelet. Return to Epiach.
4 Typhenon gets more information from R concerning Kanaye via the mirror. He and Theos divine where Kanaye is using Euryganeia's mirror (breaking it). Kolskegg informs Sang she is one month pregnant. Maiko, Theos and Typhenon rescue Kanaye from Chi prison. Chi guards pursue back into Temple, but depart at the command of the Elemental Masters.
5 Epiach council meeting. Typhenon informs Sang of his intentions to destroy the Shadowlands. Party teleports to Tokai.
6 Day in Tokai.
7 Party (sans Sang) teleports to Numaja to visit Masaru. Sang discovers Celestial insciption on Lord Yu's statue.
8 Party decides to return to Wuhai and Jin's Temple. Sang informed and transported to Numaja. After meal with Masaru, all teleport to Wuhai temple. Party deceived by Mao, who uses Typhenon's magic to generate a link between Three and Mother. Party teleports out, sans Kukulkan. Angels take Typhenon to Heaven. Maiko remains in Epiach. Sang and Theosteris teleport to Tokai and prepare to enter the Shadowlands for Lord Yu's Blade.
9 Sang, Theos, Shanro, Yosuke, Kaji etc. enter Shadowlands. Maiko summoned to Numaja, pronounced Admiral of the Fleet of Glorious Recovery and charged with liberating Wuhai from monster infestation. Kukulkan escapes Wuhai temple.
?? After seven days and nights in the Shadowlands, R transports Sang&Theos party to the Temple of the Sword. Sang is chosen by Yu and claims Blade. R transports all to Wuhai.
13 Everyone on Wuhai. Maiko captured by agents of the Seven. Kukulkan reunites with Sang&Theos group. They run into agents of the Seven, who flee when Kukulkan launches an attack. Maiko freed. Theos driven partially insane by cursed scroll. Maiko leads all to fortifications in northeast Wuhai and orders evacuation. Everyone relocated to southern encampments. Spirit-monster attack during the night. Kuni Senji rendered primitive. Shanro trapped in spiritual form, but Kukulkan able to make him visible and audible.
14 Shanro restored by Maiko. Blood hail at noon. Camp evacuated to ships. Deep Ones and Krakan attack, but defeated. Heavy casualties. Maiko proposes strike on Wuhai Temple. Shayu captured at cave entrance. Spider nest destroyed. Kukulkan kills queen. Hedoramod fulfils task that allows party entrance to Mother's prison. Allies taken by Mother or driven insane. Kukulkan kills Mao. Theosteris walks into the energy beam. Sang seals Mother's prison. Jin's Amulet found. Survivors leave Temple and return to camp.
15 Recovery. Shayu joins Maiko.
16 Recovery
17 Recovery
19 Recovery
20 Cleansing sweep of Wuhai Temple. Typhenon rejoins party. Fallen angel killed.
21 Sang and Kaji depart Wuhai on the 'Dreadnaught'. Typhenon cures Maiko and Shayu of the Mother's infection.
22 Typhenon returns Theos to his father.
23 Sang and Kaji reach coast of Yu Kingdom, head inland. Typhenon learns of Emperor's advanced arrival, aids Sang and Kaji to reach Tokai in time. Emperor arrives in Tokai. Rain summoning ceremony - Garreth collapses after detecting great evil. Emperor secretly requests Sang's aid against an unknown threat.
24 R escapes the Shadowlands, seeks Typhenon's aid in Tokai. Sang allows them to leave unmolested.
25
26
27
28
29
30

MONTH 3
1
2
3 Emperor's entourage departs Tokai after a week.
4 Sang rides to Tosa. Typhenon arrives and secures Sang's aid to rescue R's wife.
5 Typhenon and Sang fly to Numaja.
6 Typhenon, Sang and Masaru sail to Wuhai.
7 Typhenon secures Maiko's aid to rescue R's wife. He, she and Sang teleport to Epiach's Temple. Typhenon leaves alone to see Theosteris.
8 Typhenon and Theos return to Epiach. Sang told by Kolskegg she is now carrying twins. Typhenon organises clerics to populate Wuhai's temple. Typhenon, Theosteris, Maiko, Kukulkan, Sang + R departs Epiach. They repel pirates attacking Myronment and then continue southwest. Jin is transferred into R's soul crystal.
9 Travel.
10 Party successfully negotiates passage with a dragon.
11 Travel.
12 Travel.
13 Travel intercepted by a manticore, who takes party to the fort near ruins of Ibnsaidora. Supplies obtained. Rest.
14 Arrival at Ibnsaidora. Party separated from R when Rastarael (the Defiler) attacks, transported to pocket reflection of the past.
15 Party reawakens in Ibnsaidora's present, found by Reconcilers. After aiding them, Reconcilers transport them further into the city. Theosteris teleports to avoid a rockfall and is temporarily captured by the Mother. Pit opens in ground during a battle-subterrainnean complex uncovered. Theos relocated. Vault located. Anti-faith plague unleashed—Theos, Maiko and Typhenon infected. The Seven are awoken. The Seven and the Three quarantine the party until the plague contractions die out (length of time unknown).
?? Quarantine.
19 Maiko uses Jin's Amulet to draw the party to where Jin is. R found chained to an altar in Rastarael's temple by her sycophant orcs. Battle. Rastarael appears and is slain by Theosteris sacrificing himself. R blinded by unleashed energies. Party found by Shae'el. All return to vault to collect items left behind. Shae'el teleports party to his sanctum, an illusion within the palace. Shae'el unmasked as a dark-elf 'Deceiver'. Party escapes illusion. Shae'el reveals to Sang what plans R has for her unborn children. Party flees Ibnsaidora. Manticores escort them to safety.
20 Party teleports to Temple in Epiach. Discover it was attacked by Joseph the day before, who has stolen the Crown from the dungeons. Maiko organises Temple defences. Typhenon deals with vampires for info about Joseph. Kukulkan visits the Scaled Empire and finds his adopted children murdered and his wife missing, then returns to Epiach.
21 Kukulkan learns the identity of his family's attacker from R: Smoking Mirror. Sang, Maiko, Typhenon and R agree to try and rescue Kukulkan's wife from the Pyramid of Blood. Kukulkan receives Arms of ?? from enchanted chest in the Temple. Ephiates comes to Epiach and presents Typhenon with new raiment. City Council Meeting. Jade acquired from Euryganeia. Chugi inform Sang they are 'still watching'.
22 Party get equipment from vault and go to Scaled Empire. They meet Sotek, collect one of Kukulkan's remaining nezumi children, then head into Shadowlands. R transports them all to the Pyramid of Blood.
?? Shadowlands.
?? Statue possessed by Fu Leng destroyed. Manaseru no oni destroyed. Unnamed elf applauds them. Legions of daemons appear and attack. Hundreds of angels appear and defend party. Party descends into Pyramid, locate a sarcophagus containing Kukulkan's wife and R creates a Gate for party to escape. They arrive in Heaven.
?? Recuperation. Discussions with the Three. Attack launched by Mastemoth and repelled. Meeting of the Temple Heads.
24 Historian takes party to his abode. Met by Mya, Soulske and others. Kukulkan departs mountain.
25 Study.
26 Study. Sang speaks Belshezzar's name. One of the Historian's books destroyed. Q&A session with Gregorian angel.
27 Belshezzar nightmare for Sang. Kukulkan returns to the mountain. Historian bestows gifts to party. Party teleports to Epiach. Kukulkan departs for Scaled Empire. Rest of day spent flying to Tokai. Kukulkan returns to Epiach and flies to Wuhai.
28 Maiko and Typhenon fly to Wuhai.
29 Maiko, Typhenon, Kukulkan and Shayu fly to Tokai. Travel to Nakashibetsu organised via dragon. Isadora to come along.
30 Kaji organises deal with Zhengdang Kingdom. Edict put in force decalring Yu eta property of the king.

To keep in line with the new IC calendar, actual dates used henceforth! Chronology has not changed, so the first entry below should be considered to follow on the next day after the one listed above (30).
MONTH of ?
10 Kaji departs Tokai for Zhengdang Kingdom. Sang's father operated on successfully to remove 'black spot' infection on lung. Party (with Shayu and Isadora) flies to Nakashibetsu on Moonlit Brilliance. Party received by Empress Dowager (who shows as a daemon) and Champion. Party attends feast (Emperor in attendance, non-responsive) - Chugi delegation commit seppuku during proceedings and Dowager orders them removed from hall, dismembered and thrown into the river. Six of the eight hearts are sent to party, which Kukulkan deals with. Isadora feeds from Sang. Attempt made on Maiko's life during the night, foiled by a Chugi she is acquainted with. Security heightened in Palace of Eternal Sunset.
11 Lockdown on PoES for 'security' purposes. Maiko, Typhenon and Shayu are permitted to visit pagoda and meet Three contact for info. Lunch with the Dowager, Champion, Imperial Dragon and Moonlit Brilliance. Lord Yu (with aid from Maiko/Typhenon/Jin) leaves Blade to converse with ID. Sang defeats Champion in a friendly duel. Divine-inhibiting rain begins. Maiko overcome by daemonic influence in a failed attempt to use a bit of magic and kills herself. Jin saves her soul from being enslaved, rendering Maiko a bodiless spirit for now. Moonlight Brilliance departs for Epiach with Kukulkan and Maiko's body - they are attacked en route by Venn, but fight him off. Unknown party poisons tea of Dowager, Sang, Typhenon, Isadora and Shayu, but danger revealed before any drink. Sang defies Dowager and blocks Champions auto-execute of tea-servants. Isadora sneaks out, makes a distraction, frees imprisoned servants and returns safely. Maiko explores palace as a spirit - meets the Dowager's father (a colossal dragon) and discusses situation, discovers area where many ancestral spirits discuss tactics and philosophy. Maiko foils a spirit barrier by jumping into a guard's body and entering with him.

http://1d4chan.org/wiki/Katanas_are_Underpowered_in_d20

They were in their rooms preparing for bed, and it was the other side of midnight. After a few more minutes with her mother she’d returned to court and spent the next few hours observing politics in silence. It would have been marginally more interesting if she could have done something besides sit there.

“I wouldn’t know what to do,” Kaji replied.

“You could learn. Don’t those ministers know everything that’s going on?”

“That’s why they’re doing everything.”

“Get them to inform you before the audiences.”

“If I make one wrong decision then the Meyio are trampling all over us.”

“So you make one wrong decision.” Sang shrugged. “Everyone makes wrong decisions.”

“I’m must more likely to make wrong decisions uneducated as I am.”

“That’s why I suggested you get some information on the subjects before they appear in court.”

Kaji let out a long sigh. “Maybe I should go to the capital and take that exam thing,” he said at last. “Study for a while. The governorship exam.”

“You could. I think it’d be a good idea. Once whatever daemon that’s influencing it is taken care of.”

“Once you’ve dealt with that,” he agreed with a smile.

“But in the meantime you could still find some things out,” Sang went on, not intending for him to just keep kicking back while she was away.

He didn’t look too enthusiastic, but nodded. “Yeah… it makes sense.” He glanced down at her. “Don’t look at me like that, all pensive.”

“I have to,” she said, allowing a small smile.

“Why do you ‘have to’?”

“I have to be encouraging. It’s one of my wifely duties. I can’t just let you let things go on as they are without involving yourself.”

Kaji had an arm around her shoulders, and his hand began to slide a long caress down her bare shoulder. “I can think of all sorts of other wifely duties you owe me,” he murmured with an openly lecherous smile.

Sang felt herself beginning to smile back, then caught herself and pulled gently but firmly away. “No getting me away from the point.”

He raised a brow. “I suppose making some crass comment about points at the moment would be… crass.”

“I can punch you.”

“If you insist,” he replied, still smiling.

Sang gave up. “I like your face as it is. I don’t want to rearrange it too much.” She waited.

Kaji regarded his wife, then also gave in. “Once the ambassadors have left I’ll co-opt the prime minister and get a crash course from him.”

It was a start. She nodded. “Good.”

“Now can I make some crass comment about points?”

“Not just yet,” she told him, and heartlessly ignored his groan. “There was one other thing I wanted to ask of you. Let my parents outside once in a while, will you?”

“I’m not doing anything to your parents,” he protested.

“They feel cooped up.”

“They’re old. Er.”

“They’re Wall warriors.”

“They’ll get killed!”

“They might get killed,” Sang conceded, the words coming automatically and without emotion. “People get killed up there all the time—“

“I know,” Kaji interrupted with a slight frown. “I know people get killed up there all the time.”

They looked at each other for a moment. “They want to be doing something,” Sang said.

“I”ll give them a position in the government.”

“They don’t want—“ Sang broke off and eyed her husband. “Do you want a position in the government?”

“I want a position in the government more than I want to be on the Wall,” Kaji said, then looked aghast. He glanced swiftly at Sang then away, clearly horrified he’d spoken those words aloud.

Only a madman would be unafraid to fight on the Wall. There is no shame in admitting to fear, no matter what the current perceptions of what the Perfect Yu is.

“I know what you mean—“

“I didn’t say that.” Kaji looked at her again. Despite his flustered appearance, he spoke commandingly: “As King, I order you that I didn’t say that.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Sang murmured, but dryly. “Look, I don’t want to be on the Wall either—“

“But you are Magnificent Sang, possessor of the Blade and…” Kaji waved a hand, trying to come up with another title to tack on. “Oni smusher,” he said finally.

“How much have I been on the Wall since getting the Blade?”

“Yes, but you’ve been doing all sorts of other things.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly.

He gave her a look halfway between exasperation and annoyance. “The same thing that was wrong with me last time you asked.”

“Refresh my memory.”

“I’m not cut out for this, I was never schooled towards any idea of leadership, and I expected to spend the rest of my time in taverns and so forth. The black sheep of the family. And now I am thrust into responsibility with no idea of how I am meant to perform and…” he shrugged and sat down. “It’s not getting any better. So basically the same thing that was wrong last time. And the same thing that’ll be wrong the next time you ask me what’s wrong. And probably the time after that.”

Sang studied him in silence for a second or two. Afraid of fighting and governing. “You have Nobutada with you now, though, right? That’s his name?”

“He’s only so entertaining.” Kaji shrugged. “He can’t stand in for me in official functions or anything like that.”

“Does he know anything about governing?”

“He knows more about sailing than governing. And more about women than that.”

“Really?” Sang asked before she could stop herself.

“I’ve noticed he hasn’t been around much lately…”

They were getting sidetracked. Sang tried to think of something this man was confident with. “You do know how to fight,” she said, deciding to work against his feeling that he was a coward. “You’ve been in the Shadowlands, you fought on Wuhai.”

“I’ve done that,” he agreed. Then he said, “I did it to be close to you.”

“Could you have honestly lived your life going from tavern to tavern?” Sang asked before the ache in her heart could pull her off track. “Happily?”

Kaji regarded her a moment. “I’ve got the feeling this is the sort of question that if I answer it incorrectly you’re not going to be happy with me.”

“No. I’m just curious.”

Is there any ambition? Anything you wanted to achieve or do?

“Would I be happy not fighting and dying on the Wall? Yes.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“I like drinking. I like women. I like enjoying myself. I like not being stabbed repeatedly. So yes, I was looking forward to… I don’t know, a diplomatic post somewhere? Third son, it’s all I would have been good for. Married off to secure some sort of political alliance. Goodness knows how I ended up with you,” he added with a broad grin that widened with his next remark: “Maybe they thought some of you would rub off on me.”

“Kaji…” she rolled her eyes, and ended up with her gaze resting on Lord Yu’s Blade standing in one corner. Even as the thought came to her she didn’t know if it would achieve anything. At worst, nothing would happen, so there was nothing to lose by trying. “Do you want to hold it?” she asked.

“What am I holding?” Following her gaze, he quickly added, “I don’t think it’d be the kind of thing I want to hold.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll probably catch fire.”

A chill ran down her spine. “You won’t catch fire,” she told him adamantly.

“It’s usually the way things go in legends,” Kaji continued unwisely. “The unworthy are—“

“If you keep talking like that I will punch you.” When he glanced back to her, perhaps noticing her tone this time, she forced a sly smile. “Don’t make me do my trembling lower lip thing.”

“You’re a devious, horrible woman at times.”

“My dad said much the same thing.”

“Your dad’s an irascible so-and-so at times,” Kaji muttered. “Fine! I’ll fondle the Blade…”

He stood, adjusted his loincloth and rolled his shoulders a bit, as though preparing to dive into something unpleasant as boldly as possible. Sang watched as he approached the Blade, hoping for… she didn’t exactly know. For Lord Yu to say encouraging words, or make him feel better. Maybe he needed a dose of Jin’s bubbles.

“Please don’t kill me, Lord Yu,” she heard him breathe, and then he gingerly extended a hand towards the guan dao’s haft. He flinched minutely when his fingertips connected with the wood, but once it was clear he was not going to be struck down for that he went on to wrap his hand around the handle.

Then he jerked back, wrenching away with a shocked expression.

“Something the matter?” Sang asked, forcing back her uncertainties.

“Does it… talk to you?”

“Ah, that. Yes.”

“That’s good,” Kaji said in the same oddly pitched voice. “I’m glad. Can we have sex now?”

“What did he say?”

“He said I’m doing a good job.”

Sang felt herself relax. “Then why are you looking so petrified?”

“It talked to me!”

She smiled a little. “I’d have warned you if I thought you’d believe me.”

Kaji took a calming breath. “I shouldn’t be that surprised. All things considered, it was a bit of a shock.” He paused. “I’m having a drink.” He went to a small table and poured himself a shot of sake, then a second one. Sang, preparing to get up if he went for a third drink, watched as he set the glass down. His face was to the wall. “Well, I suppose I can say something,” he said. “He thinks I’m doing a good job.” His voice was very soft and Sang could hear a faint trembling in it.

“You shouldn’t have doubted it,” Sang said, almost as quietly.

“I’ve got every reason to doubt it.”

“Not now.”

Kaji nodded a bit. “Not now.”

**

It wasn’t long after that that they were lying together on the futon, their hearts slowing from a thunder. Sang snuggled closer into her husband’s embrace, one of her hands on the back of his where it lay against her belly. It was rare moments like these when she actually felt happy.

She wished that she didn’t have to leave, that he wouldn’t have to go on alone again. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as hard for him now, though. Lord Yu’s words had been better than she’d hoped for. After all, if he told Kaji he was doing a good job then it mattered not at all what some subject calling himself a Yu said, did it?

What we think it means to be Yu is not what it used to mean; what Lord Yu intended it to mean. We idealised courage, strength against darkness, protecting others, but in time those concepts became harsher and we became… hard. Even brutal, sometimes.

It was never meant to be about spurning those we deemed weaker, or sneering at the fearful. It was never about… excluding everything else, like compassion, and being only what we defined as strong.

In the darkness, her free hand smoothed a stream of hair that flowed across the pillow beneath her cheek. Most of it was hers, but mingled with the black tresses were white strands that shone almost silver in the night.

Makoto, Yu or something in between, why is it important? You are probably closer to what Lord Yu and the other Saving Gods originally wanted the Silverstari to be like.

…perhaps this marriage was so that you would rub off on me.

This is why 4th ed fails.

Another servant raised the screen to allow her inside. The main room was dominated by her former family’s banner, which hung on the wall directly opposite the entrance. The room itself was austere, simply furnished, and decorated not with rich trinkets or expensive works of art, but with only a few personal trophies or objects of personal history: a broken helmet rested here, and over there was the shriveled claw of an oni.

Kuni Akiko emerged from an adjoining room. She was, in many ways, as simply attired as her surroundings. Though she now had the rank of ‘Queen’s Mother’, her kimono was functional and her hair in a tail rather than done up. Sang was surprised to see how much grey threaded that hair now. Her parents were barely over fifty years of age, a respectable length of time for any Yu who’d lived on the Wall. It was not unheard of for greybeard warriors to keep fighting until infirmity or an unlucky wound made them more liability than asset, but they were rare. The high mortality rate tended to ensure that older veterans were all superb fighters. Pure luck only smiled upon a bushi for so long.

Akiko bowed formally before Sang could stop her. “Majesty. To what do I owe this visit?”

“Family?” Sang suggested.

Her mother dropped the formality instantly. “Good enough for me.” A wry smile graced her battle-scarred face as she enfolded her daughter in a rough hug. “Court bores you as much as it bores everyone else?”

Sang shrugged. “I will have to get used to it. But I actually came here about Dad. Is he unwell?”

“He’s been better,” Akiko said evasively. “He is aging, after all.”

“He didn’t look very well yesterday,” Sang pointed out.

“He over-exerts himself.” Catching Sang’s look, Akiko rolled her eyes. “Not in that way, Sang.”

“I wouldn’t think there was much here to over-exert you,” Sang said. “Compared to Tosa, that is.”

Akiko sighed but smiled. “Being your parents has certain benefits.”

She refused to be put off. “Seriously. How bad is he?”

“He’s not doing too well. He doesn’t want you to know.”

“Has he seen a healer?”

“He doesn’t want them to know either.”

“Why not?”

“He is a proud old war horse. The Mountain does not Fall, eh?”

Sang sighed in exasperation. “Yeah, but even the mountain has to get patched up once in a while or there’ll be some landslides.”

“This is what I keep telling him, and there’s been more than one landslide already, believe you me. He’s gotten the rough side of my tongue more than once over it.”

“He’s been to healers before over wounds and such. Why is this any different?”

Akiko snorted. “Sang, wounds earned in battle are one thing. His own body falling apart on him is something else.”

“Perhaps I will be able to persuade him?”

Her mother nodded. “Maybe he’ll listen to you.”

“If he doesn’t, I’ll have to order a healer up here.”

“I don’t know how that’d go.”

“Neither do I,” Sang confessed, “but I’d rather he be angry than dead.”

“You’re going to have to deal with him angry.” Akiko grinned.

“Maybe it’s a good thing I won’t be around all that much then.”

“Mm. It’s never a good thing you’re not around all that often. And don’t look at me like that,” she added, “that wasn’t a stab. I’m a bushi, I don’t slink in the dark and ambush people. If I had something to say I’d say it outright.”

“I’m glad someone does.”

“I think you’re doing Kaji a disservice.” Akiko appraised her daughter a moment. “But, I also trust that you wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t have some reason that was important to you.”

Sang nodded once, her throat tight. “Thank you.”

“Hey, I’m just your Mum. You left me long ago. I’ve had years to get used to you leaving the nest and standing on the Wall and so forth.”

“Sometimes I wish I could just go back to being a kid,” Sang replied wistfully.

“It’s not the way we work,” Akiko reminded her, but not unkindly. “We accept our responsibilities, even when they work across purposes to us. I’m sure you’d love to spend all your time with him. I can see it in you how much you love him. It’s not a dirty word, even amongst samurai.”

Sang smiled. “We’re having twins.”

Akiko eyed her. “How long have you known?”

“Oh… about a week?”

“You know if you’d known any longer than that, I’d have had to box your ears.”

“Actually, I found out just after leaving Tokai last time,” Sang said without listening—or thinking. “So I’ve known for about a month.”

“I am going to have to box your ears.”

Sang winced and took a prudent step back out of reach.

“Who do you think you are,” her mum demanded, “some sort of ronin with no family and stuff?”

“I’m a bushi,” Sang protested. “I can’t just wave my hands and make messages go places!”

“You and me both. That’s what we have the Imperial Postage Service for.”

“I didn’t have one of those travelling with me.”

Akiko hmphed. “Neither here nor there.” She indicated a door with a jerk of her head. “He’s in there. He’s taking a constitutional. He’s probably asleep.”

“I guess I should get this over with.”

The older woman’s brows shot up. “You seriously want to wake him? You know what he’s like.”

“Would you put it past him to pretend he’s asleep to get out of seeing a healer?”

“You know what he’s like.”

“I grew up with him!”

“I suggest hiding behind a couch and waiting for him to get up himself.” Akiko grinned. “Then jumping out like a surprise party.”

“I should have brought more weapons,” Sang sighed, glancing down at her daisho. “Is your ten foot pole in the room?”

“I have to wake him up in the mornings, of course the pole’s in there.”

Sang grinned, nodded and went into her parents’ bedroom. There was not much light through the drawn drapes, but it didn’t take long to find the long wooden shaft near the door. Sang turned her attention towards the bed where her father Satake lay under the covers with his eyes closed. Like Akiko, he was also showing signs of age. It was weird to see. They’d always been out and active around Tosa. It was almost impossible to conceive of either parent getting old.

“Dad?” she tried.

He didn’t twitch.

“You’re not fooling me, you know,” she told him conversationally.

Satake cracked open a baleful eye. “Can’t you leave an old man to his sleep?” he growled.

“Does that mean I don’t get a hug?”

“Depends. Do I have to sit up?”

“No.”

“Then I s’pose.”

Sang came to the bedside and knelt, leaning across to embrace her father. He hugged back awkwardly from his prone position, then she sat back to regard him seriously.

“So when are you going to see a healer?”

He groaned. “She’s been on to you again, hasn’t she? She always does this!”

“It wasn’t her,” Sang said. “I have eyes, you know. Maybe I got them from her.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my eyes,” he retorted with a scowl. “It’s the damn bellows I’m worried about.”

Sang cocked an expectant brow. “Well?”

He glared. “It’s so… undignified!”

“There’s nothing undignified about getting sick.”

“There’s everything undignified about getting sick!” Satake glowered. “Especially when you’re old! You smell, you’re uncomfortable—“

“You’re sick in more places than one?” Sang interposed mildly, and grinned at his withering glance.

“I raised you too well,” her father grumbled.

“I can find one who’ll be discreet if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“They’re never discreet. They always prod you in places that aren’t meant to be prodded.”

“I mean they won’t tell anyone about it. Prodding… they are healers,” Sang reminded him. “You say it yourself!”

He let out a rattling sigh but didn’t succeed in concealing a wry smile. “All healers are tyrants.” He glowered at her again when she did nothing but smile back. “You’re doing that thing with your eyes again.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“You know, that thing you do with your eyes when you want me to do something.”

“Oh.” Sang grinned. “You mean this?” And she gave him the most insincere, pleading face she could manage without fluttering her lashes.

“Yes, that. And if I’m not lucky the bloody lower lip will start up, and then you’ll get some lip from me, little girl.”

She laughed. “Don’t worry. I haven’t done that in a while.”

“Damn straight. Don’t think that just because you’re beddin’ his lordship”—Sang blushed—“that you’re not going to get the rough side of my temper. You can hide behind your spunky Makoto-haired so-and-so all you like—“

“Mum said I could use the ten foot pole.”

Satake broke off with a growl. “Your mother and her bloody ten foot pole.” He paused. “I get the feeling you’re not going to stop badgering me about this until I do it.”

Sang smiled innocently. “No,” she agreed.

“Fine! Fix me up with someone.”

“I knew you’d see things my way.” Sang leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.

“Now can I go back to sleep?” he demanded.

“All right!”

“Thank you.” His hand suddenly caught her sleeve as she made to rise. “Thank you,” he repeated gravely. “You’re too good for a stubborn old man. Now get your arse out of here. I’m tired.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

“Yes, yes. Hasn’t anybody told you,” he called when she reached the door, “that it’s not very Yu to go around hugging people?”

Sang grinned back at him. “That’s why I’m doing it in private.”

He grunted. “Sounds like some of that Makoto fluffery.”

Sang slid the screen door closed. She guessed it was out of character for her to go around seeking hugs from her parents like this. Her father obviously blamed Kaji for teaching her bad habits, but really she’d been getting more hugs from Typhenon than anyone else during the past month. Then there’d been Elona, and it was hard to compare the embrace of a goddess to anything else. Hugging wasn’t… unpleasant, but it usually implied vulnerability, a need for comfort from someone else, and in that respect it wasn’t Yu. Or, at least, it wasn’t what the current Silverstari impression of Yu was, so it was not only not done but spurned even. Yu were supposed to be strong, to stand firm against anything or die on their feet. To seek comfort from another was to admit weakness.

The Yu version of a friendly hug was a punch to the shoulder. Even amongst family.

For some reason Sang found herself thinking that Lord Yu wouldn’t object to people hugging.

“I can tell from the general volume that you talked him into it,” Akiko said.

Sang glanced back then crossed the room to join her mother at the low table. “We were that loud?”

“He bellows like a thunderstorm.” Akiko smiled wryly as her daughter laughed.

“I’ve missed you two.”

“Yeah, we miss you too.”

“You’re not bored here, are you?”

“Yes.” Akiko sighed. “Desperately bored. I’m not old enough to be retired. But he’s latched on to us like a… well, don’t think I’m speaking ill of him, but he’s latched on to us like a starving puppy.”

“He did lose his dad—“ Sang began.

“Everyone loses their dad!”

“—and his mother’s just gone.”

“Yeah, well, like he said,” Akiko replied, indicating the bedroom door, “’Makoto fluffery’. Everyone loses their dad, their whole families. It’s the Wall! He should grow some—and again, don’t think I’m speaking ill of your darling husband, but he should grow some balls, suck it up and get on with it, in my not too delicate opinion. He’s got too much of his mum in him. And people are saying it too, it’s not just me.”

“Do we even know what his mum was like?” Sang protested. “She disappeared practically the day after we arrived! All I knew about her was that she’s Makoto.”

“That’s enough,” Akiko said. “He’s a weak and womanl—“ She stopped short. “That was unbecoming.”

Sang couln’t find words to reply. It was very hard to not think her mother was speaking ill of Kaji when she said things like that.

But… isn’t that how I’m supposed to be thinking too? Isn’t it ‘Yu’?

Kaji did go hard after his father and brothers were killed and his mother left. I saw it, and…I hugged him. I hugged him… Is this my fault? Should I have let him be that way?

No. Fortunes, no. That’s stupid.

No.

“I lost two fathers and you didn’t hear me blubbing around the place,” Akiko was saying. “I’m half tempted to think that all your father needs is to get back on the Wall and…” she left it hanging.

“They won’t let you back on the Wall?” Sang asked, surprised.

“Won’t let me get within fives miles of the damn place. I mean, it’s not a picnic up there, but that’s the point, that’s what we do. We defend the Wall.”

“Is this some sort of legality of your status now, or just something he wants?”

Akiko shrugged a nod. “Just something he wants. It’s like he’s picked us up as a surrogate family.”

“I can talk to him if you want.”

“Yeah, but that sounds an awful lot like defying the king,” Akiko sighed, “which is also something we don’t do.”

“Yeah, but you should be allowed outside once in a while,” Sang said, and, hearing what that came out sounding like, laughed.

Akiko regarded her chortling offspring with irritated amusement. “Trust you to find the light side of everything. You’re too young to be gloomy.”

Sang settled down and smiled a bit sadly. “I often feel like I’ve been nothing but gloomy these past months,” she confessed. “There’s never enough to smile about.”

“We’re getting too old. We should have died on the Wall by now.”

Sure, and that comment was going to make her smile. “I’m glad you didn’t,” Sang replied.

“I don’t know. I’m sure your father would rather that than hock his lungs up in a bed somewhere.”

“Speaking of which.” Sang beckoned a servant over and told him to fetch a physician who specialised in lung infections. When he’d scurried off, Sang regarded her mother again. “You could just go riding or something. You don’t have to go fighting daemons unless you really want to.”

“Of course we really want to,” Akiko retorted sourly. “The ever expanding bunions upon our bee-hives and yet another bloody painting lesson.”

“You’re painting?”

“Well I have to do bloody something.”

“There are sparring rooms. You could probably teach some of the warriors a thing or two.”

“As best I can.” Akiko’s smile was wry. “Makoto fluffery.”

So he was keeping them locked up so they wouldn’t get so much as a scraped knee. She’d have to talk to him about it. Sang was the last person who wanted to see her parents injured or killed, but she didn’t want them to be unhappy either, and they wouldn’t be enjoying their lives until they were risking them. Much like their daughter, all they really knew and were good at was fighting. To take that away removed their very reason for existing, and no number of painting lessons, days in court or idle evenings of leisure could replace it.

“It’s unseemly, having a son-in-law who’s so…”

“Affectionate?” Sang supplied.

“Yes. Affectionate.” Akiko said the word with a certain amount of disdain. “It’s just… unseemly.”

“Mum…” Sang sighed. “You could try the affection on for size. You might find that you like it.”

“Already finding I don’t. Too much touching. Not in public, thank goodness, but just about every chance he gets in private.”

“Maybe he likes you.”

“The last person I liked I punched in the face.”

“You mean Dad?”

“Yes.” Akiko grinned briefly, then leaned forward. “I think you need to have a serious talk with that boy. He’s too fluffy.”

“I kind of like the fluff,” Sang said, half-apologetically.

“Yeah, but he’s got millions of subjects who don’t like the fluff.”

“I’ll talk to him, but…” Sang met her mother’s gaze, not trying to hide her discomfit. She didn’t want to change Kaji. Not much, at least. She might be happier if he took more control of his court rather than let things happen around him, but she loved his affection. The thought that the kingdom might expect her to beat him into some hardened Yu ideal of the the perfect warrior king actually distressed her.

“He’s a good kid,” Akiko assured her, “but he’s… not very Yu.”

“Maybe the Yu just have to get used to him.”

“Maybe he’ll get a bit more manly once you’ve popped.”

“And maybe then the court won’t be so protective of him risking his neck,” Sang countered.

Akiko snorted. “He is in charge. He can tell the court where to stick it.”

“True,” Sang murmured, and let it drop there. She had the feeling that no matter how Kaji did things, people would get upset. He couldn’t go sword-swinging on the wall or there’d be an uproar about the last of the bloodline risking himself (unborn children notwithstanding), yet if he stayed in Tokai attending court there’d be grumblings that he wasn’t out swinging a sword. Whether or not it sounded whiny, Sang was tempted to point out how unfair it was. She knew, though, that her mother would be firmly on the sword-swinging fence.

“Enough about that,” Akiko said, catching Sang’s desire for a change of subject. “Tell me what you’ve been up to. You,” she added, singling out a servant with her gaze. “Tea. Now.”

**

“Travelling with Typhenon.”

“Oh, that thing.”

“I don’t suppose our daim—… Samariku… ever said why he sent me off?”

“Save the gaijin, save the world? Pretty much what it boiled down to.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do.”

“It’s a big prophecy or something.”

“Prophecy? First I’ve heard of it. Didn’t think those things existing. Really existed, you know.”

Akiko smiled sardonically. “The rest of the family,” she said, waving a hand flamboyantly to indicate she meant the dominant shugenja part of the Kuni house, “think that so long as we know which side of a sword to point at the enemy we don’t need to know how to read. It’s damned near insulting sometimes. But I suppose you could see why he didn’t tell you. Probably thought you wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“Hrm.”

“Pity he turned into a vampire or something.”

Sang leaned forward intently. “Have you heard something?”

“No, but I can put two and two together. Never something you get used to, but it’s something you learn how to live with, family being taken by the Shadowlands.” She made a dismissive motion. “So this gaijin thing. Flitting about doing what?”

“Saving the world?”

“I suppose that’s something.”

“Destroying the Shadowlands.”

Any other Yu might have laughed her out of the room with such a casual claim, but her mother took it in stride, as though doing something like that would be perfectly within Sang’s capabilities. “Can’t argue with that. And you’ve recovered the Blade,” she noted with a level of reverence.

“I should have brought it here so you could have a closer look.”

“It’s not a trinket to be passed around.”

“I know it’s not but…” Sang hesitated, not knowing how to approach the fact that Lord Yu’s spirit was within the weapon. Samurai often named their weapons, even treated them like living beings. The katana especially, as the soul half of the daisho, were to be handled with respect and apologised to it they were knocked accidentally against a table. “I just wanted to introduce you, I suppose.”

“I’d be honoured,” Akiko said seriously, her usual rough manner of speech gone. “I really would.”

“After tea then, perhaps.”

“Speaking of,” Akiko said as the servant returned with a tray, two chawan and a steaming teapot. “Leave the pot,” the bushi added after tea was poured, and the boy returned to a corner in the room.

Sang turned her cup, picked it up, sipped and let out a satisfied sigh. It was a blend she didn’t have in her small travelling collection, full-flavoured and robust. “One thing I haven’t been able to teach my companions is how to make tea. I believe a couple of them actually came close to burning a kitchen down. Boiling water isn’t supposed to be that difficult.”

“It’s an art,” Akiko said, and unceremoniously threw back the ocha in a single swallow.

Sang gave her a reproving look and shook her head. “I spent too much time around the daimyo,” she murmured, taking another demure sip.

“Makoto fluffery.” Akiko smirked.

“He was Yu! I suppose he thought someone in our family should have a bit of exposure to true civilisation.”

“So when am I going to have a chance to corner him behind closed doors?”

“Who?”

“This gaijin of yours.”

“Why?” Sang asked suspiciously. “What do you intend to do to him?”

Her mother laughed. “Nothing permanent,” she promised.

“He’s been taking good care of me.”

“Well, that’s something at least.”

“He’s a skilled healer. He’s been making sure the babies are all right. Regularly. Very regularly. Making sure I’m eating.”

“Damn straight.”

Sang tilted her head thoughtfully, reconsidering all the things Typhenon had done for her. “Maybe you could do something permanent to him. For me.”

“If he’s keeping my grandchildren alive, he’ll get a good motherly punch from me!”

It was Sang’s turn to laugh. “He won’t understand that, but it’ll do. Try not to break too many bones.”

“I’ll try. What about the rest of them? Or is it just the two of you? That’s a little bit, er…” She raised her brows suggestively.

“There’s another. You didn’t see him today but he was here last time. You probably saw him in a black kimono?” Sang tried, after failing to remember if Kukulkan had even introduced himself previously.

“Oh, that creepy one.” Akiko nodded. “What’s up with that?”

Sang took a long sip, stared thoughtfully at the roof for a second, then said, “He’s a kami.”

“Oh, we are keeping good company, aren’t we?”

“He doesn’t like to let it be known, but…” Sang smiled. Kukulkan wasn’t likely to thank her for identifying him as a spirit, but being amongst family again and not having to guard how she expressed herself had rekindled her childhood mischief.

“So you, the gaijin and the kami.”

“And Maiko, of course. Governess of Wuhai.”

“Oh, that one. The pirate.”

“Just because she sailed a ship doesn’t make her a pirate.”

“It almost makes her one by definition,” Akiko pointed out. “She’s a Jin and she sails a ship.”

“She hasn’t done much sailing recently.”

“So she’s an unemployed pirate,” her mother amended in exasperation.

“She did help to stop a very large daemon uprising on that island! Most of the defences were her idea.”

“And I seem to remember one of our juggernauts being sent down for that.”

Sang shrugged. “That’s more because the Jin king sent some sort of letter..?”

“Yes, yes,” Akiko sighed. “I had to pat the poor bastard on the back. No, he’s not that bad,” she apologised, catching Sang’s look. “It’s not like he went blubbing as soon as one of the other boys called him a name, but…”

Sang felt her heart sink. “Maybe he does need a bit of toughening up,” she conceded reluctantly. “I don’t know how to do it, though. I’m new to the whole married thing. I mean… how do you tell someone they have to toughen up without—“

“Punching them in the face?”

“Yes!”

“I would have suggested punching him in the face,” Akiko said dryly. “Marriage is like battle. You turn up fully armed, you tell him what you want out of it and what you expect, and then the two of you bash heads until something happens. It’s fairly simple, all things considered.”

“My head’s hurting just thinking about it,” Sang muttered.

“Drink your tea.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“We did a lot of travelling in the south. There was a ruined city. Came close to dying a few times.”

“It happens,” Akiko said, unconcerned.

“Nothing unusual,” Sang agreed, feigning her own casualness. She wasn’t supposed to spill her guts, even to her family. Realising that’s exactly what she wanted to do shocked her like icy water to the face. She couldn’t tell them she’d been scared out of her wits by illusions and nightmares, by things that weren’t even real. She definitely couldn’t tell them about R. She’d been around Typhenon for too long. He kept inviting her to talk about things, to share her worries. He’d done it so often that here she now was, wanting to talk about her fears to someone she knew loved her, but… that sort of thing wasn’t done. It was shameful. She should have been angry at Typhenon for influencing her so much, but all she could feel was a profound sadness that, as a proper Yu, she couldn’t seek comfort from her own mother.

Two months ago she had lamented being elevated to royalty because it forever separated her from camaraderie amongst the less exalted samurai. Now she wondered if her association with Typhenon and all those connected to the Three would distance her from her own family. She got the feeling this was one of those things they wanted her to try and change about her people, but for now… she felt like a stranger in a foreign land.

How have I changed so much? What happened to me?

There was nothing for Sang to do over the next eight or nine hours other than admire the scenery of mountains, lakes and forests. They paused after sundown for Maiko to pick her bearings from a river fork and Typhenon to inform Kaji of their imminent arrival.

Two and a half hours was apparently as long as it took for the King of the Yu to rouse half the city from their beds, have every single lantern lit up the main causeway, organise a feast and arrange for a flight of dragons to circle the castle belching fire and lightning in a completely ostentatious ‘welcome home’ for his wife. Troops and citizens cheered loudly as Sang, Maiko and Typhenon walked up the main street, all the way to the massive double doors of the castle.

It was, Sang knew, completely contrived. Those who sincerely welcomed her back would be few. She might have Lord Yu’s Blade and Lord Yu’s sashimono but she was no hero returning home or beloved ruler. She did her best to ignore the insincerity of the entire thing, knowing it would only annoy her if she thought about it for too long.

The castle doors opened and Kaji appeared beyond them, Nobutada at his side, and flanked by the hundreds of officials the infested the court. Two and half hours had also been long enough for each and every one of them to bedeck themselves in their official raiment. Sang paid the courtiers and their not-so spontaneous cheers little heed, her attention firmly on her husband as he stepped forward. Kaji wore a deep-sleeved midnight purple kimono covered with traceries of white vines. His hair had been put up in an elaborate fashion upon which rested a heavily carved iron crown studded with rubies and etched at the front with the character ‘Yu’.

Kaji crossed just short of half the distance between his courtiers and his wife. The implication was that she would cover the rest of the distance, and the extra couple of steps she would take symbolised she was subservient to him. Sang left her companions’ sides and walked the expected distance to stand before her husband.

He put both hands behind his back and waited. In this too there was meaning, for it left his torso open to attack.

As his subject, it was expected for her to speak first.

“My King,” she said, lifting her voice to carry. “I am honoured by my reception home.”

“The citizens of Tokai and our city welcome you unabashedly,” Kaji replied. “Though many have been roused from their beds at this hour, their joy at your return is unmatched.”

Sang kept a straight face, deciding they would discuss this over-the-top business later.

“Come.” Kaji put a hand around her shoulders. “And your retinue too, of course,” he added, and led her, Typhenon and Maiko through the sea of courtiers.

**

There had been a meal of banquet proportion, freely flowing drink, and eventually a series of drunken songs. Throughout the whole, Sang and Kaji kept their social masks in place and treated each other with the expected formality. Finally, though, the King declared an end to the festivities. Fine lodgings were arranged for Typhenon and Maiko, who would be departing the next morning for Wuhai, then Kaji and Sang retired to the royal quarters.

Kaji immediately collapsed into a deep chair with a sigh. Sang seated herself more carefully nearby, mindful of her armour against the furnishings.

“Are you going to do that every time?” she asked with mock disgust.

“Depends. On how bitchy I’m feeling.”

“You’re not going to be a very popular king if you keep rousing people out of their beds whenever I come home.”

“I have to keep greeting my queen with due pomp and ceremony.” He smirked. “I could say you’re not going to be a very popular queen if you keep flitting around the place and forcing me to put on great shows and banquets whenever you return.”

“Touché,” she murmured. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I didn’t expect to—“

“Ever turn up again?” he interrupted.

She stared at him and tried not to look hurt. “No, I meant—what do you take me for?” she asked suddenly. “I don’t necessarily do this because I enjoy it.”

“Well, so long as we’re both not enjoying it I suppose that’s something.”

Sang didn’t trust herself to reply. This wasn’t how she’d expected things to go.

“Though I must say if I keep not enjoying myself this much I might have to shave my head and become a monk.” He sighed. “So how long is it this time?”

“What have you heard about what’s happening at Nakashibetsu lately?” Sang countered.

“Not much. Why, what’s happening?”

“There are rumours of the Emperor being ill.”

“Oh, gods.” Kaji groaned. “That’s all we need.”

“Typhenon, Maiko and I were researching what we thought was the cause of it,” Sang explained, “and we think we have an answer. He’s not actually ill, but there is a darkness there working to end his life.”

Her husband sighed again. “I’d say ‘rally the imperial guard’, but I get the feeling this is something only you can do.”

Sang paused, then said quietly, “I plan to go there at the start of the month.”

“That’s, what…” Kaji spread his hands. “Today and tomorrow.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I only found out what the threat was yesterday, and it took most of today to get here.”

Kaji made a sound that indicated it didn’t make him feel better at all, but also that he had nothing else he could say.

“After that, who knows how long I’ll get to stay here?” Sang asked, trying for a hopeful smile.

“Don’t dangle that in front of me, Sang, it’s not fair,” he said in a reproving voice.

“It wasn’t a promise,” she replied, her smile fading. “Just… a possibility.”

“I’m getting sick of hoping. It doesn’t work.”

Sang lowered her eyes.

“I’ve been forced to come to terms with… our arrangement. It doesn’t mean I’m going to needle you mercilessly at every opportunity to remind you that you’ve duties here as well. A wife’s duty. I’ve come to terms with it. So we can sit here, melancholy,” he went on, “all sighing about our unexpected duties and how we have to sacrifice so much to uphold our honours, or I can have another half bottle of sake and we can enjoy what little time we have together.”

Sang managed to rally herself. “At least you can have sake. Too much more of it, though, and you’ll be too inebriated to do me justice.”

He raised a brow and smiled archly. “That sounds like a challenge.” He grinned then and started to rise. “I’ll drink in the morning!”

“There was one other thing,” Sang told him.

“Oh, don’t do that and—“ he sank back down and scowled at her. “Don’t say something like then and then say ‘oh wait there’s just one other thing’, so I have to sit here and cool my heels.” He frowned. “Out with it.”

“You know how I told you I was pregnant?” she replied carefully.

Alarm shone in his eyes. “What’s happened?”

“Well… I’m doubly pregnant.”

“Who did it?” he demanded angrily.

She stared. “You did!”

“I’ll have his head!” Kaji practically shouted. “Who did—you… oh. Oh. That’s…” he managed a sheepish smile. “Yay?”

Sang shook her head, but smiled back. “Do you want to know what they are?”

“I think I’d rather be surprised.” He waited a moment, took a breath then nodded. “Think about it in the morning. Do you have anything else to say?”

Sang shook her head.

“Fantastic. You.” He pointed at her, then towards the bedroom. “Futon.”

**

In hindsight, it was amazing they made it to the bed fully disrobed. She had still been in her armour and he’d been in his state kimono, and they’d both tried to remove their own clothes while simultaneously ‘assisting’ each other in the same task. The lacings of Sang’s yoroi and the quilted kimono she wore under it took about as much time to untie as it did to remove Kaji’s multiple layers of silk. All in all it probably took slightly longer to get undressed than it would have normally, if only because, towards the end, neither of them were really looking at what they were doing and things devolved to simply pulling until the knots gave up in defeat.

Exhaustion brought on from their reunion, as well as her lack of sleep the previous night, kept Sang abed until noon when her husband gently shook her awake to advise breakfast was ready. She didn’t care that she should have been up around dawn to do her kata; considering how briefly she’d be in Tokai she intended to spend as much time as possible with her ‘wifely duties’ rather than her weapons.

After eating they bathed, which again took a little more time than would be usual though clothes were definitely not involved in this instance, and after that they attended court together. The daily business mostly involved a delegation from the neighbouring minor kingdom to the southwest, who were proposing a co-ordination of air patrols between the kingdoms. The idea was to avoid friendly fire and make some duristictional ground rules where, for instance, a patrol from Gi lands chased someone into Yu airspace. Sang noticed that nothing had changed between now and the last time she’d been present in this room. The ministers still ran things and made the decisions, while Kaji and Sang were expected to do nothing except look stately. It wasn’t that Kaji didn’t look interested in the proceedings at all, just that… he didn’t involve himself. Sang wondered if she should talk to him about this again when they were alone, but didn’t like the idea of returning home for a few days, watching how he ran things then telling him what she thought he should do.

There was a recess for refreshments before the third hour after noon, and it was around that time that Sang received a message from Typhenon on Wuhai.

”Don’t know how to ask politely, but you should get your father to see a healer. I believe he’s coming down with a lung infection.”

Sang thought back, remembering that her father had indeed not looked well last night. ”I’ll do my best,” she replied, knowing Satake’s opinions on physicians. “Thank you. Hope everything’s all right over there.”

Typhenon had been seated next to Sang’s mother, her father situated the place beyond that, so the Primarch would have been in a decent position to make such a comment about Satake’s health. The fact that he was telling Sang about it now, though, rather than waiting for tomorrow when he’d be back in Tokai and able to inform her personally, worried her.

After a brief exchange with Kaji, a servant was summoned to lead Sang to her parents’ apartments, which were situated in one of the castle’s towers.

"I'll be back in court soon," Sang promised, and followed the servant into Tokai's corridors.

Faint light entered the room as Typhenon twitched the curtain aside and peered in. “Sang—?” he began, but stopped at the sight of the two women pointing swords at each other. As though his voice had broken a spell, Sang lowered her wakizashi. Maiko then relaxed her defensive stance and put up her blades. “What happened?” Typhenon asked, coming inside.

“I don’t know,” Maiko said.

Sang slid her weapon back to its scabbard, her face to the wall. “Nightmare.”

“Are you all right?” asked Typhenon.

“Yes.” There was a pause. “It was—“ she almost started to say the name again, her lips compressing on the capital B, but she caught herself and amended, “—that fiery one.”

Before going to sleep, Sang had spoken with Lord Yu about the dangers of speaking a god’s name aloud. The angel had explained that calling a god’s attention was deeper than just it seeing you. Perhaps the best way of thinking of it was looking at where a person was standing compared to looking inside that person and knowing what made them who they were. Yu had also said that there was no way of telling what damage calling upon Belshezzar’s name had truly caused, but the Historian’s abode was likely the best place for Sang to have said it. A person could be struck down for speaking it. Normally Sang would never have admitted to anyone that a nightmare had scared her badly enough to make her scream, but she wasn’t so proud that she’d be stupid enough to hide the truth if it involved a dark god working mischief on her.

“What happened?”

Sang looked at them for a second, clasped her hands tightly beneath the covers, then forced the words out from a dry mouth: “Kaji burned to death. And then he sort of… came back.”

Maiko had touched Jin’s Amulet and now half-extended her hand towards Sang. “May I?” At the cautious affirming nod, Maiko touched her shoulder and Sang felt something wash through her that eased her spirit somewhat. Sang released a breath slowly, muscles unclenching, then Typhenon descended on her with a hug.

“So long as I don’t get these every night,” she said as she patiently endured the cleric’s embrace.

“They are powerful,” Typhenon replied when he released her. “I should have warned you.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sang interposed before he could blame himself. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just…”

“Ill luck,” Typhenon finished.

Sang nodded. “Mistakes happen.”

“You’ll be all right?”

“I think so. Thanks,” she added awkwardly, to the both of them.

“I should get some more sleep then,” Typhenon said. “We have a long flight ahead of us.” He left.

“Do you mind if I stay?” Maiko asked, and Sang indicated she did not, though she didn’t ask why the other woman wanted to remain. Maiko sat down with her back to the wall without saying anything else. Sang lay down on her bed and didn’t close her eyes. She wasn’t feeling as traumatised as she had a minute ago, but wasn’t too eager to go back to sleep. She tried to busy her mind by coming with a reason why Maiko was sitting in her room, but hadn’t come to any ideas other than ‘just keeping me company to be sure I’m all right’ before the Jin said, “And Typhenon’s awake again,” about half an hour later, at which point there were footsteps that stopped outside Sang’s room.

“Do you mind if I come in too?” Typhenon asked plaintively.

Sang told him to enter, and the cleric huddled on the floor wrapped in a blanket. “You had a nightmare too?”

“Overactive imagination.”

“I guess I shouldn’t have told you,” Sang said apologetically.

“I asked.”

“Some things are best not repeated.”

“Sometimes repeating helps.” There was a moment of silence, then Typhenon shifted. “I’m going to raid the kitchen. You two want some tea?”

“So long as I get to brew it.” Sang sat up. “I have everything here except for water.”

“I can handle that.”

After a light source was arranged, Sang fished through her pack for the box that held her ocha set. It was quite old, having been passed down through several generations before coming to her through Kuni Samariku. There was a black pot decorated with some purple Silverstari characters, various instruments she’d use had this been a real tea ceremony, and four deep black chawan that were lacquered a dark purple on the inside and around the lip. Three of these bowls showed signs of their age with a long crack here or a chip there, but the fourth was criss-crossed with a network of fine lines that bore silent testimony to the cup having been quite thoroughly smashed at one point.

Sang knew for a fact it had been broken no fewer than thrice, each time by herself. It was even the reason she’d inherited the set, since her daimyo had wryly decided that it wouldn’t have the same meaning to anyone else he bequeathed it to.

Once Typhenon had filled the pot with boiling water, Sang emptied it all into the four cups then poured it all back into the pot. When Typhenon asked what that accomplished, she explained that it was the best way to cool the water to the temperature she wanted for steeping the tea. Ideally one would heat the water to a stage short of boiling and judge the correct temperature by the bubbles that formed, but that couldn’t be done without a fire—and she didn’t really want to be in the presence of any naked flames just yet. She added the leaves and mixed it carefully into the water before finally pouring a measure into three of the chawan, selecting the broken-and-repaired one for herself.

Though this time with Typhenon and Maiko was no ritual, before raising the bowl to her lips she turned it in her hands with a motion so often practised it had become habit and re-familiarised herself with the scars.

**

Samariku winced visibly as the three hundred year old chawan shattered against the wooden beam and splashed steaming ocha across the tatami mats. Sang did not notice. She was glaring after the tea cup, trying to mask her grief with anger. Unshed tears stood in her eyes. Abruptly, she turned and strode for the door.

”Are you running, samurai?” the daimyo asked in his mildest voice, and saw the girl’s back stiffen instantly before she halted, then returned. Her face was pale with suppressed fury.

”I beg leave to depart, daimyo,” she said in a voice so rigidly controlled that it shook.

”You may. But take those with you.” He gestured to the pieces littering the floor. “The tatami will need to be cleaned, and the chawan repaired. You will do this yourself, before returning to your duties. You may also use the back room here, if you prefer.”

Sang’s face flushed from white to crimson with shame. She started to speak then shut her mouth, nodded and went to the broken cup. Kneeling, she began to collect the pieces. A fine start to her adulthood, yelling at her lord and breaking one of his chawan. His offer to do the cleaning up and repairs in his own rooms completed her humiliation; by rights she should have carried the soiled mat and broken cup outside for everyone to see.

**

The chawan made a second revolution in Sang’s hands.

**

This time the bowl broke between her palms and fingers. She swore as soon as she did so in equal measures of anger and pain. Some of the shards had cut her skin and drawn blood.

Kunk Samariku sighed. “Well. At least the cup was empty.”

She swore again, basically telling him the bloody damn cup could rot in hell.

”The bloody damn cup, Sang,” her daimyo replied sternly, “will be repaired. Again. And after the pieces are cleansed.”

”Why are you wasting your time—and mine—with this?” Sang muttered as she picked pottery from her hands and kimono.

Samariku sipped at his tea. ” Ocha is never a waste of time,” he answered, deliberately misinterpreting her question. “There is a small rack of ointments on a shelf in the other room. Bring them out and I will see to your hands.”

**

Sang turned the cup a final time.

**

Samariku picked up a fragment from his side of the table and held it to eye height. "Too many more doses of glue and it's likely the thing will bounce the next time you toss it against a wall," he remarked.

Sang was red with embarrassment as she scraped pieces into a pile. "I only did that once. This time was just an accident.”

He tsked. "I suppose that is something to be proud of, although it's just as well you didn’t drop it in front of guests."

Sang looked at the pitiful heap of shards. "Is three breakages too many?" she asked, looking hopeful.

"No," He smiled. "Three is a good number."

"If it's so good a number you should let me throw this out," Sang said shrewdly. "Then you'd have three cups left."

Samariku snorted. "Nice try. Get the glue."

***

Typhenon had counted the number of turns she'd turned the cup. “Why three times?” he asked.

Sang sipped then shrugged. She didn’t know. It was how she’d always seen it done. “Tradition.”

Typhenon picked up his cup and smiled. “Three is a good number.”

Sang opened her mouth to reply, then simply “Hmm”ed and gave him a strange, speculative look.

They passed the early hours of the morning telling stories. Maiko regaled them of a tale during her sailing days that involved a particularly interesting encounter with a Chi ship, Typhenon followed up with stories of his childhood when he’d lived on the streets with beggars and thieves, which had ended with him getting caught picking Kolskegg’s pocket, and Sang finished by filling Maiko in of how she and Typhenon had first met (more specifically, how Typhenon had first met Sang’s right fist).

This had been in the dungeon of a demolished ogre fortress. Sang left out the part where she and Hitomi Merunae had been jumped by undead and daemons. The two of them had been travelling south through the mountains towards Epiach before being taken her by surprise. She remembered fighting alongside Merunae, but not the blow that had felled her. The next thing she’d known for sure was waking up sans weapons and armour with a gaijin (Typhenon) bending over her.

At some point they went to the kitchen to raid a magical cupboard for food. Sang found herself carrying Lord Yu’s Blade in one hand and a basket of strawberries in the other (for some reason Sang felt like eating strawberries). Maiko convinced her to try and teach Typhenon some kata, and the Primarch didn’t do too badly in imitating some of the forms. Somehow it ended with Maiko proving she could hit Sang with a strawberry from across the room.

Sang chalked it all up to a general lack of sleep.

They declined the Historian’s offer of breakfast and went instead to bathe. Maiko took a little persuading but came along. The Jin was usually in and out of a bath so swiftly it was a wonder she ever had to towel herself dry, but this time she stayed longer. She did, however, insist that Sang and Typhenon turn their backs every time they all moved to a warmer bath. It was a surprise to see Maiko so awkward about something as trivial as being naked amongst friends, but no one said anything about it. Perhaps the Jin just did things differently to the Yu, Sang surmised. When the Historian’s voice came from outside to announce he was coming in, however, Maiko promptly left.

“What’s that about?” Sang murmured after the Jin had departed.

“Something to do with her past,” was all Typhenon would say, and then the Historian was stepping down to join them in the warm water.

**

Kukulkan returned before lunch time while Typhenon and Maiko were discussing the best course to fly from Epiach to Tokai. The shapeshifter was wearing his full armour at the time, including helm, so it was impossible to tell what colour his scales were or see his face. No one asked where he’d been, or what he’d happened to. Neither did Kukulkan enlighten them.

**

Before they departed, the Historian took them to a vault somewhere deep in his mountain. The contents dwarfed that of the room beneath Typhenon’s temple. Suits of shining mail, beautifully wrought weapons and strange garments or objects hung from walls or were laid reverentially on plinths. Every single item seemed to have an engraving beside it that detailed what was known of its history. It had the impression of a museum.

“I lost the armour you gave me,” Typhenon said. “Or, it was taken from me.”

“You will recover it before the end,” the Historian replied.

“I hope so. I was rather fond of it.”

“As was I. That armour had a long history. Everything here has had a long history.”

“Typhenon,” Maiko said thoughtfully, after a glance around the gleaming contents of the room. “Does the Historian know about the sword you have in your temple?”

“Sword?” the Historian asked.

“Adneil’s sword,” Typhenon told him.

“Hm. I would be interested to examine it.”

Typhenon nodded. “Keep in mind I’ve promised to give it back to him if he earns it.”

A sour look crossed the Historian’s face for a moment. “Then I will keep it safe for a long time.” Realising how he sounded, he shook his head. “That was unbecoming of me.”

“Indeed,” Typhenon murmured.

Sang knew from her conversations with the Historian that the elf did not think highly of R. He blamed him for the fall of the elven race, for dragging everyone else down with him all for the sake of his lost wife. The Historian had lived in isolation since that dark time, caretaking the remnants of elven lore and simply surviving, for if he, the last of the good elves, fell to shadow then his race would have failed utterly. He did not believe R could be redeemed. Sang got the feeling the Historian didn’t think R deserved to be redeemed. Why should Typhenon waste his efforts on such a one? Why should the once-king of the elves who’d doomed his people be welcomed back?

Though Sang tended to agree with the Historian’s sentiments, for some reason she’d refrained from telling him about what R had planned for her and her children. One side of her had wanted to compare horror stories so they could share their mutual dislike. She didn’t know why she had kept quiet except that, for some reason, talking about her experiences with R to the Historian had felt like the wrong thing to do.

The Historian, meanwhile, was taking select pieces from his collection and giving them to the companions, or waving his hands over equipment they already possessed and adding enchantments to them. Maiko’s gloves, for instance, were suddenly traced with an elaborate pattern of curling vines and told the gloves would now help to “balance her hands.”

For Sang, he placed a red gem on her belt which he said would allow her to grow physically to a giant’s size at her command. More red gems went on her bracers and gauntlets, which would allow her greater success at retaliating against those who struck her, and greater strength against foes larger than her. Across her shoulders he swept a mantle of dark feathers which fused into the surface of her cloak. With this, the elf said, she could exchange places with a distant threatened ally. Next was a curious half-mask of solid amethyst that could occupy the space between her menpo and kabuto, with which she could see “the true nature of people”. Apparently this meant she’d be able to tell humans from, say, undead and daemons, which Sang had to admit would probably come in very useful when she reached Nakashibetsu.

“And then there’s this, more than anything else,” the Historian said, emerging from a side room with a pole of deeply brown, aged bamboo. He adjusted a perpendicular segment at one end of the pole to create an L frame common to sashimono, and in doing so unfurled the banner strung between the bamboo. The fabric was dark, and in purple was picked out a single character: ‘Yu’. “This is the battle standard of Lord Yu.”

Sang blinked, then accepted it reverentially in both hands. She bowed, unable to find words to express her thanks. This wasn’t some elven trinket that would increase her prowess or allow her to do magic tricks, this was… a part of her people’s history. A relic of personal value. Lord Yu himself seemed surprised at being reunited with his own banner. Sang could feel a level of awe emanating from the Blade, along with recognition and even fondness.

“Take it forth,” the Historian said, “into a new age.”

Constructive criticism not welcome?

Edit: Also, it was a redirection function I was meaning, not manually changing all the links. I haven't used it myself so you'd have to look it up to figure out how it works, but for an example kuni sang redirects to the hida sang page (you can watch it happening in the address bar). This means any existing links don't have to be changed and the [xx|yy] stuff isn't necessary. Figured it might be useful if you wanted to keep cleaning page names, that's all.

Also, it seems everytime I do some work on the wiki, I get sassed…

Redirecting a page to the correct spelling might be the best alternative, as links remain intact.

The lack of information was finally edging Sang towards despair. The Historian’s library might have the answer she was looking for, but where that answer was she had only the vaguest idea.

So when Typhenon joined her at the table and asked, “What type of daemons am I looking for?” Sang could only give him a long look and a shake of her head.

“Shapeshifting ones?” the cleric tried, pulling up a chair. “Ones that can possess people?”

“We don’t have much information to go on,” Sang said.

“You have absolutely no idea what might be there? Not even a slight word of what it might be doing?” When Sang again shook her head, Typhenon sighed and picked up one of the books. “That’s really helpful.”

“Did Garreth tell you what happened at the rain ceremony?” Sang asked, thinking she’d revisit about the only other piece of knowledge she had.

“No.”

Sang raised a brow, surprised that the Caesar hadn’t informed Typhenon himself, but repeated what she’d been told about him sensing an immense evil during the ceremony. “That’s why he fell over and lost consciousness,” she finished. “I don’t know if that means anything to you, but to me it means something big and evil.”

The cleric paled slightly. “You can’t see auras, can you? There are spells that allow you to look at someone’s soul to see if it’s tainted by good or evil. Garreth has the ability to see the evil in people’s souls. For him to be overwhelmed to the point of collapse means that we are looking at a daemon that’s possibly more powerful than the Historian.”

A slightly puzzled glance was Sang’s response to this, since she had no idea how powerful the Historian was when it came down to it.

“Daemons that powerful tend to be leading generals of their given deity. They’re not just dangerous, they’re powerful. This one would be a match for Lord Yu, without being tied to a Blade.”

“Something of a challenge then,” Sang said dryly.

“A bit more than a challenge. They are deadly in the extreme. They could wipe out an entire city. Depending on who they follow, what kind of daemon they started off as…”

“Hm. I don’t suppose you know what kind of daemon this one is?”

“If I had more information, anything, I might be able to…” He took a long breath and paused, thinking. “The gods themselves have domains over certain things,” he explained. “The people or daemons who serve them follow those domains. Like fire, for… um…”

Typhenon got a strange look on his face at that point, and Sang, thinking he’d momentarily forgotten the name of the god he was using for his example, recalled the Three mentioning a god’s name which had given rise to impressions of flames, loyalty and a crown. “Belshezzar?” she supplied, then jumped back with a startled oath, toppling her chair as the open book in front of her burst alight with an angry roar.

Typhenon had also leapt to his feet. “Never say their names out loud!” he cried. “They can see you when you do.” He gestured towards the immolated book and caused a stream of water to douse the flames. Steam should have sounded like a guttering hiss, not an angry screech. Some of the fire spilled over the edge of the table to the earthen floor and crept towards them like a living thing before it guttered out with a noise suspiciously like a snarl.

“Poke the book with Lord Yu’s Blade,” Typhenon instructed, and Sang did do without question. No sooner had the weapon touched the burnt tome than it disintegrated to a heap of soggy ash.

The Historian burst in at that point, alarm on his face. He looked at the scorched table, the ashes and the waterlogged books and his jaw dropped.

“It was my fault,” Sang said before Typhenon could apologise. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“You never speak their names,” the cleric said again. “As soon as you say the name of a god they can focus on where you are.”

The Historian said nothing but rushed straight to the table, removing the drenched books before they could absorb any more moisture. Sang and Typhenon helped.

“We had to destroy one,” Typhenon said when the table was clear. “It was possessed.”

The elf stared at Typhenon for a moment, and a tear actually ran down his cheek before he silently turned and walked from the room.

Sang wiped the table dry without speaking and righted her chair, sitting down again. There were no other apologies she could make. The names of gods had been spoken freely in Heaven, and she had not considered they might be dangerous to speak elsewhere. Considering Belshezzar was a fire god, she supposed it was lucky only one book had been lost.

“If the daemon is that powerful,” she said, deciding to return to the previous topic, “then it limits the possibilities of what it could be, right?”

“Sort of,” Typhenon replied, also sitting. “If only we had more information, like if it was associated with flames or death or something.”

Sang spread her hands on the table. “All I know is that it was present at the rain summoning ceremony. Do any of them have anything to do with rain?”

“One of them is associated with storms,” Typhenon mused.

“Garreth said the rain itself wasn’t evil.”

“Storms and changing,” Typhenon said thoughtfully. “How much do you know of the Seven?”

“Only what you have told me and what I learned through the gods.”

“What did you learn through the gods? And don’t mention that name.”

“They said that one when we were all there. I know about the one that killed Caalix’s wife—“

“That’s the one,” Typhenon interjected. “That’s the one I’m talking about.”

“The one that starts with…” she hesitated, giving the cleric a chance to stop her, then said, “‘Z’. I can say that, right?”

Typhenon grinned slightly. “We usually give them names.”

“Why would you consider this one then? Because it’s associated with storms? We’re basing this off one rain summoning ceremony.”

“You did ask if any of them had anything to do with rain,” Typhenon reminded her.

Sang sighed and gave a small nod.

“There is also one that has domain over the air, health and illness,” the cleric went on.

“So we’ve narrowed it down to two.”

“Or we could be wrong and it could be something completely different!” The two of them smiled wryly at each other. “But it’s a starting point. We’ll see what we can find with those two and move on from there.” He pushed his chair back, grinning more widely, and stood up. “I have an idea.”

***

Typhenon’s idea turned out to be a good one, providing more information in half an hour than Sang had managed to figure out through the entire month. After the Primarch had spoken to the Historian and lunch had been consumed, the four of them had bathed, donned gold-trimmed white robes (in Sang’s case, rather uneasily), then gathered in a small altar room. At the elf’s request, Maiko and Sang had put Amulet and Blade atop the altar beside a goblet, then the three of them had stood at three points around and chanted something in another language. Typhenon had summoned an angel and asked it a series of questions. After several ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answers he’d stopped to confer with Maiko and Sang about what else to ask, then repeated the summoning.

Not only had they learned that the daemon served Zaddakim, but that the Emperor was not ill. At least, not yet. According to the angel, the daemon’s goal was to kill the Emperor and destroy the Empire. It also confirmed that they could count on neither the Dowager Emperess or the Emperor’s Bodyguard to help them fight the daemon, and that at least one of those two willingly served it. On a more positive note, the Imperial Dragon would aid them. There had been more, and Typhenon, Maiko and Sang had talked over much of it later.

The information, while it hadn’t revealed everything Sang might wish to know, was enough that the bushi found much of her tension simply disappearing. Going from knowing next to nothing to having some idea of what was going on was amazing—and of course she had Typhenon to thank, which she did.

After a bit of reading in a fruitless attempt to find some hints of this daemon that had been around Nakashibetsu the last half century, they decided they’d be leaving the next day. It was only a couple more days until the month ended. Sang needed to return to Tokai and Maiko to Wuhai, though Typhenon asked the Jin if she would aid them in fighting this daemon and Maiko agreed, if reluctantly. Maiko had brought up a point of her own, though, that the daemon might have had something to do with the destruction of the Falcon Kingdom some fifty years ago. Sang, considering that Shanro might still be in Tokai, told her two companions that she might be able to look into that when she got home. Typhenon suggested meeting up with the old Makoto woman they’d met in Heaven, who’d used to work in the Imperial City and now ran one of the shoreside Three temples. He sent a message to her that afternoon to arrange things, deciding that if he and Maiko accompanied Sang to Nakashibetsu then the two of them could confer with the Makoto while Sang continued on to the palace. At this point in time, Sang was unsure how difficult it would be to get her companions inside. For the moment, her hopes rested on convincing the Emperor himself to invite them in.

We asked the angel if we have the means at our disposal to destroy the daemon and it said ‘yes’. That does not mean that I can prevail against it alone and protect the Emperor. Whether or not I need help, aid will be most welcome. I will do this alone if I must, but I’d prefer not to.

***

Sang knew she was dreaming. The details were blurred. Things were sensed and known more than seen, heard or felt. She was in the Royal Chambers, in bed. She knew this dream, and rolled over to see her husband. Kaji was beside her, still asleep. She did not try to wake him, but lay quietly admiring his lithe and muscular body. His mother’s Makoto blood showed in more than his white hair and fine features. He was more slender than the heavyset Yu, graceful, but had a greater breadth of shoulder and depth of chest than his Makoto kin. She traced the lines of his muscled chest with her drowsing mind, caressing him.

You are beautiful, my love.

He started awake, rubbed his side and turned to face her, then smiled at her smile.

They talked, as people do in dreams. Words were meaningless, forgotten, neither really spoken nor heard. All the while Kaji rubbed at his skin as though bothered by some bothersome itch. Then the words ended and they drew closer together, their lips meeting…

Still he scratched, and he became so agitated and uncomfortable he was finally forced to pull away and get up. As he moved from the bed, Sang noticed a tendril of smoke streaming up from the reddened, abraded skin and horror seized her without warning.

No… no! Belshezzar, you f—

Kaji stumbled a few feet from the bed before smoke poured from his nose and mouth and he fell to his knees. When the first tongues of flame licked out from his belly and chest he began to scream. The fire consumed him quickly and hungrily, turning him into a living torch that bathed the room in grisly light. His beautiful hair caught and crisped in an instant. He was incinerating him from the inside out, his flesh charring and melting away. His screams of pain and terror echoed in her ears, the stench of his burning filled her nostrils and his agonised writhing just seemed to go on forever… and she could do nothing to help him, frozen with horror and disbelief.

Finally, Kaji fell silent. His body had collapsed to a blackened skeleton patched with cooked meat. Glowing embers and flickers of fire still danced here and there in or across the bones.

The corpse twitched. And again. It stirred. Sat up. Stood. Turned its skull to her. Pointed with a burning, skeletal hand.

“You, Sang,” Kaji’s hissed accusingly, his voice overlaid with the crackling sound of a great fire. “You killed me! Your carelessness, your folly have killed me! I’m coming for you, Sang!”

No! I didn’t know! Oh, gods, Kaji—

Her husband’s burning body lunged for her, bony fingers extended like claws and flames spitting, snarling—

***

Sang screamed her way awake, felt the sudden presence of another in her room, and ripped the wakizashi from its saya beneath her pillow to defend herself against the intruder a second before twin elven hookswords hissed from sheathes in retaliation and the two warriors were staring tensely at each other down the lengths of their blades.

…Maiko?

In Nomine is a game about the epic cold war between the hosts of heaven and the forces of darkness, set in the omdern day world, with players (typically) taking the role of angels or demons who've been sent to earth to do their boss' work.

I'm looking at running a demon game, and this is an open invitation for all to attend a gathering next Monday, the 7th of September, to eat and discuss the possibility of the game. If you are considering but aren't sure if you want to play, turn up, socialise and discuss the game to help you decide. In the end, I'm looking for 4-6 players, but I've invited far too many people who've said "maybe" and want to get things rolling asap. So I decided an open invitation here was the best way of doing things.

If you would like to download a PDF copy of In Nomine, one can be found here. Otherwise, I look forward to seeing you on monday.

Pironious,
Servant of Asmodeus, Demon Prince of the Game.

:D I lol'd

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-jBKKV2V8eU

…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nwp-lDSN3Qo&feature=PlayList&p=A28CC7D10659B703&index=0

It is awesome! I love Jorzan, he perfectly catches having a cleric's INT. Lidda gets annoying though :/
The second one in the series has a warlock :3

Is this evil a unique daemon? - Yes
Is it capable of possessing? - No
Is it trapped? - Yes
Is it limited to the island? - No
Is it trying to kill the emperor? - Yes
Is it trying to destroy the empire? - Yes
Is anyone within Nakashibetsu willingly serving it? - Yes
Is it the same evil that's been keeping worshippers out of the city for the last 50 years? - Yes
Does this evil have direct power over the emperor himself? - No
Can we count upon his bodyguard to aid us in vanquishing this evil? - No
Can we count upon his mother to aid us in vanquishing this evil? - No
Do either of them willingly serve it? - Yes
Can we count upon the imperial dragon to aid us in vanquishing this evil? - Yes