Rokugan In the Shadows - Deals in the Dark

[Tjallen]

Flying towards his quarry, Snich overflows with anger. For the better part of the first day, the only words he utters are a litany of curses, as well as raving and ranting about credit-stealing vampires and monsters favoring their own kind over him who did all the work.
Festering over the long day of flying, when he makes camp for the day he can contain it no longer.

Putting his hand on the mirror to summon Tun he bristles with fury at the injustice done to him, as Tun fully exits the mirror he starts rambling at him at breakneck speed in squick-speak, jumping from accusations of favoritism, love of the undead, cheating, stealing, misplaced credit and demands of compensation, bigger rewards, supplies and rights to settle in various underground locations. The words come out jumbled up even by Skaven standard due to a mixture of anger and sheer disbelief.

[~Corvus~]

At least this project wasn't lost. The silver-eyed human licks lips still tinted red with blood as he listens to the ratling's verbal rampage. He's dressed today in a long, thick fur that seems meant for a very cold environment. The fur blows as if he's facing a windstorm, but Snich can't see or feel what causes the effects. Ever industrious, Tun busies himself as he listens. From his voluminous robes he first procures a jar of blood and draws a seven-pointed star and then a five-pointed star on the other side of his person, and connects the outer edges of each circle with a larger one. He then takes out seven fingers and five fingerless hands, all diseased and wracked with rot, and places them on points of the stars.

"And how have you done, rat, on bringing me my quarry? Here I had arrived, hoping that you had, again, delivered our agreed-upon-prize faster than expected. Alas, it is not to be so. Let us find him; you shall bear me the sacrificed I've asked for; too much depends on it, and I'm willing to help you find him. Stand in this circle." As the ratling continues his babbling about betrayal and compensation, he fills the ratling's ears promises of retribution upon the vampire, her kin, and assurances that in the end, they'll pay. Finally, as the storm of words, comes to an end, Tun commands him, "Stay!."

Tun raises his hands and bellows into the night with fury. Spirits, hear our anger! We have been ROBBED of our place, stripped of our resources, and had power stolen from us! Do not bar our way to the realm of the dead, that we may bring another to your fold! There is one that TAKES your power! That STEALS from your memory and BREAKS it to his will! We, too, feel this anger, and we seek VENGEANCE!! Bar us not from our communion due!

The shadows around you shift, and the air around you shifts to one that is beyond icy-cold; it is an absence of energy, an absence of warmth, of life, and one that makes the night seem bright. Through it, Tun bellows,

"SHOW US THE ONE!! We will bring you the offender, the INVADER that takes you from your REST into the world of Ningen-do! SHOW US THE ONE!!"

The cold envelops you, and it feels as if life is leaving you, pulling you away, and as your life fades away, a ringing happens in your head. The ringing becomes a hunger, a ravening hunger, and a vision of a vast bay with a circle of ships fleeing from a shadow, this shadow, this darkness, and a sense of desperate urgency. Wordless impressions, a need to hurry, a sense that, if not acted upon, the opportunity to claim this one will fade. The darkness near the ships creeps onto them and covers them in the inky blackness, and the ships, thus covered, retreat from the bay and into a distant void. So, too, fades the feeling, and your body feels numb and cold. Tun is gone, but left are the bloody circles, the rotting limbs, and a note scrawled in blood:


Eat on flesh, rot and blood. Your hunger will lead the way. And so sets in the pull, a deep feeling of being tugged far to the south. Before you lies a grisly meal and anxiety that further delay in action will result in even worse consequences.

[Tjallen]

No stranger to eating scraps of rotting food from his youth, Snich only briefly scrunches his nose up as the smell hits him, before setting upon the meal with a determination born of fury at the undead who dares encroach on what is his.

[~Corvus~]

The scraps are, strangely, more meaty and filling than Snich anticipates. They are almost enough a meal for him. Skree, who has found a nearby deer in the span of the recent ritual and mostly devoured it, brings back what remaining scraps it can and offers them to its furious master.

[Tjallen]

"Yes-yes, Skree, you are a good-smart pet-thing. Only one I-we can trust. We must hurry-fly to find-snatch the man again. We must catch-trap him." The furry ratling pets the abomination as he cuts out the best part of the deer, the heart, and starts munching on it as he waves for the bat to eat.
"You will need armor, maybe bombs. We must go-fly soon-now."

[~Corvus~]

Snich finds, near the circle a flimsy and threadbare bag with his (daily) dose of poisons. Attached to one of the (clay) poison bottles is the following note:
Leave any instructions for a new set of mixtures on this parchment, hidden among some rocks nearby. Or eat this note and burn this bag and you shall receive the same tomorrow morning.
-E. Shin

[Tjallen]

Deciding that his choice of poisons was indeed the perfect choice and only an ingrate could ever be so incompetent to QUESTION his choice, Snich promptly sniffs the note for any traps and then feeds it to Skree wrapped around a piece of deer. As he burns the bag he thinks on the idea of stealing from memory, perhaps something to keep in mind for the future.

With thoughts of future successes in his mind and a somewhat befuddled idea of what the hell just went down with the apparently angry monster, Snich heads, once more, towards his quarry. This time there will be no escape for the power that belongs to HIM.

[~Corvus~]

High within the area of Tani Giza (Jagged Valley), far to the north, Tun sits on top of a recently-mutilated body. Today, he watches as many Samurai vie for and compete in a survival game north of the Phoenix lands. They expect at least a few people to go missing every year; this is a perfect opportunity for harvest. He had news, too, that a great asset would be descending from the Burning Steppes to the north, but when was another story.

He waves a wand, again spreading the layer of mist and fog that enveloped his mountainous lookout, and waved a rod this time, allowing his eyes to see through the physical cover. He grimaces in distate, but says little, picking up another rod, and settles down to watch the hundreds of miles around him for any attention-worthy developments. It would be a week until he had to meet the ratling again, not that Snich mattered; his sacrifice, if found, however, could turn the tide of his struggle.

As he still searches below him, his eyes glow for a second, and out of a twisting black portal a small round and red critter with wicked bat wings and a nastier face appears. Before it can speak from its open mouth, Tun demands, Search the clothes of that one. Bring me all money, cloth, items, weapons, or any other magical or mundane objects from the corpse.

THEN dissect the body, search the throat, stomach, intestines, and bowel for any other material objects.

THEN ask me for further instructions.

The small red creature, grumbling to itself, begins its task with a minimum of happiness, and grumbles about the missed joy of killing.

Yes, it was going to be a long day for Tun. He wondered what Snich was up to now.

--

[~Corvus~]

Snich knows that, as Skree flies north, that caves are often inaccessible by any but the most intrepid of explorers, and that there must be some such places inaccessible by foot. After many hours of flying, he spots one by chance. It lies in a gnarly and curved woodland, and its only tell is a blackness darker than much of the brush around it. As Skree wings over, it actually manages to become entangled in the leaves and branches during its descent. You both turn upside-down, and the bat skreeches in pain as one of its wing-claws become entangled in the foliage.

Perhaps this was distraction the human was waiting for. His four spectral arms and his strange animal-mask, barely visible, suddenly shimmer with light blue radiance and he reaches for Snich.
Reflex DC 15 (Or Ride Check DC 20) to avoid falling: [roll0]
5 attacks:
1 Primary (bite) Grapple @+4 [roll1]
4x
2ndary (claws) Grapple@+4, -2 2ndary [roll2]
2ndary (claws) Grapple@+4, -2 2ndary [roll3]
2ndary (claws) Grapple@+4, -2 2ndary [roll4]
2ndary (claws) Grapple@+4, -2 2ndary [roll5]

On any hit, he will Pin then re-direct all followup attacks to try to grab Snich's poisons sachel.

http://cdn.obsidianportal.com/assets/112746/grapple_flow_chart-02.png

[Tjallen]

As the human starts reaching for Snich, the ratling explodes into action as a combination of adrenaline, paranoia, and fear fuels his attempt to get away. Throwing himself behind the stuck Skree to get out of claws reach, Snich scrambles away over the branches as the claws swipe at Skree. 'Sneaky soul-human thinks he can betray ME, the God-Prince always taught to be wary of surrender. Should have sedated him, damnations.

Reflex to avoid falling: [roll0]
Slinking advance: First round of combat Snich gets a free move action. Due to a mixture of paranoia and the desire to NOT be where everyone thought he was.
If the reflex is successful Snich will scramble out of the way by climbing into the trees, or if he fails and falls down by running. And if he provokes he will use Verminous Valor as an immediate action to take cover behind Skree, changing the target of the attack.
Climb check if necessary [roll1]

[~Corvus~]

Seeing that Skree is entangled, and Snich is cowering behind it, the man takes a somber tone. Skree, I never had anything against you. Goodbye, poor creature. I had hoped it wouldn't come to this.

Skree is helpless. It takes 1 attack from the man from last round, and can do nothing but squirm as he is ripped into with dispassionate power.

Bite: [roll0] Acid

Bite: [roll1] Acid
Claw: [roll2]
Claw: [roll3]
Claw: [roll4]
Claw: [roll5]

51 damage to Skree


The great beast thrashes about, frightened and terrified at the abuse it's getting from a man that had been (moments before) at least not hostile. It buckles and kicks, trying to free itself.

The man barely holds on, managing to grab a harness at the last second, even taking a leg to the jaw (He takes 11 damage) before Skree falls limp. Blood drips from its back, falling in great globs from its face of agony.

[Tjallen]

Snarling at the inevitable betrayal Snich grabs a wand and as he activates it and starts fading from view he curses the human: "You-thing never learn, bow-yield."
As he fades he makes his way further away from the azure-wielding human, up the tree, fury fresh in his mind.

Greater invisibility from wand, climb up [roll0]
Hide I guess [roll1]
Invisible for 9 rounds.

[~Corvus~]

The man chuckles at Snich's warnings. "This time, there is no bat to help you. With a final attack, he Bites down upon the bat. Acid and blood mix, and Snich can see that its clan-beast is nearly dead, and will be if action is not taken immediately

He then jumps away, laughing, and crashes through the foliage, disappearing into the thick and treacherous forest around the cave. Rocks tumble downwards, marking his descending form in the trees.

[Tjallen]

As Skree bleeds out with the last of his clan, Snich has already left to catch up to the murderer, poisoning an arrow he scurries across towards where the traitor fled to, an arrow readied to rain down vengeance on the monster that cost him his clan.

Swift action poison arrow - Blue Anemone Oil: CONTACT 1d4 str/dex damage initial / blindness secondary. No save.
chasing his target at 45 ft speed, hide(-5 from moving more than half but less than full speed) [roll0]
If he spots the guy, arrow imbued with web to the back, if not another move.
Attack [roll1] for [roll2] + 4 if flatfooted as well as a dc 15 reflex to avoid being entangled.
WEB: Reflex dc 16 to avoid being unable to move, else entangled. 20ft radius web.

[~Corvus~]

If it weren't for his haste, Snich might have hit the human as it passed him on his descent. Seeing th arrow come from what seemed nowhere, the man grunts and jumps downwards, abandoning all pretext of subtlety or attempts at hiding.

His jump is perhaps poorly timed as a webbing stops him as it seems he is going to go tumbling downwards. He grunts as he writhes, and tries to break free immediately.

[Tjallen]

Carefully lining up the shot Snich shooting another poisoned arrow, this one guided by magic to strike true. Keeping his fury hidden behind a mask of silence, Snich smiles as the arrow flies true.

True strike - 3 power attack if crit confirm 1d20+28[/roll] for [roll1] + 4 if flatfooted as well as a dc 15 reflex to avoid being entangled. Also [roll2] / [roll3] str/dex damage initial / blindness secondary. No save. Ignoring dr/blunt, slashing, alignment, silver and cold iron.

[~Corvus~]

The man shreds the web with his acidic bite and spectral claws only to find an arrow in his shoulder. This time he laughs, saying "You can't kill me!! Your master won't let you!! knowing full well what he's saying is close to lunacy, he tries again to struggle, wrenching his shoulder from where its hit wood....but can't quite get it free.

[roll0] vs 15 (fail)



Seeing his fate is at range, he lets the spectral arms fade from his body. "Kill me If you must. I'm worth more alive, you miserable rat."

[Tjallen]

Annoyed with his continual struggling the ratling calmly retrieves a different vial of poison and quickly coats another set of arrows with it, shooting another guided arrow at the human. He sneers at the humans unfortunate insight, adding an insult before relocating: "Hurt-suffer, Human."

[roll0] for [roll1] +4, dc 15 or be entangled for a round applying colossal centipede poison, DC 25 fort or suffer [roll2] dex damage, secondary 2d6.

[~Corvus~]

The man struggles again but this time, he only looks for something in his bags. He brandishes a vial of what seems to be...well, is that poison of his own?

[roll0]vs 25


He grimaces and wheezes in response to the arrow that goes into his side and looks at Snich with a nasty grin. "I guess it won't be long, now, before the poison you gave me takes hold. I was hoping to pour this down your throat but...I guess this Crab-clan Puffer is for me. Here's to your success! "

He drinks deeply from the flask and tossed it to the ground.

[Tjallen]

Snich sends another arrow laced with poison and guided by unnatural insight towards the target of his fury.

[roll0] for [roll1]+4, dc 15 or be entangled for a round applying colossal centipede poison, DC 25 fort or suffer [roll2] dex damage, secondary 2d6

Poison counters: Blue anemone: 3 arrows left
Centipede: 3 arrows left

Doses delivered:
1 blue anemone (2/2 str/dex) 8 rounds till blindness
1 Centipede 9 rounds till secondary save
+1

[~Corvus~]

The man splutters as an arrow pierces his stomach. "Son of a dog...you really are insane..." He sputters out blood from his mouth and says, "It's okay. It was worth it to know Tun's plans will be complicated...don't..d-don't trust him. He's not...what he ss--" at this point, he lets out a hiss and a croak and his throat seizes up. His eyes uncharacteristically bulge and blood vessels from his eyes burst, as if he's being strangled. Before he can die from his arrow wounds, he slumps forward, limply sliding along the arrows that would hold him to the tree. They crack and break, and his body twists, dangles, then flops to the ground with broken and warped arrows.

[Tjallen]

Deciding that involving Tun sooner rather than later, Snich summons the power of his patron, letting his words take on an uncharacteristical level of genuineness. Hopeful he reaches for the mirror and summons the demon, maybe the situation can still be salvaged.

[~Corvus~]

Tun felt his focus shift. Not only a day early, he felt the characteristic tug of a blood-bond. He looked at the mutilated man before him, still oozing blood, and tells the imp, "I'll be back. Finish the tasks I've given you with the man, then WAIT HERE. If you get hungry, eat his hair and his skin." He took some blood that had run off, scoops it into a reflective pool, and slips inside.

---

What smells like Tun arrives in a naked, genderless but tall and humanoid form. Strong-enough-looking limbs are entwined by thorny barbs, and out of a human-like head are those silver eyes and curly ram-horns that sprout from its head. It rotates on a column of heated air and looks around, then spots the (recently dead) form of the incarnum-man.

"Let me guess: in a fit of rage, you killed him explicitly against my instructions." The creature folds its arms, but tiny images flicker in its eyes before disappearing. It almost looked like a tree being flayed to burning bits, but it was so fast, was it a trick of the (imperfect) light?

[Tjallen]

Not having moved from his perch he looks at Tun like he has grown a second head: "Poisoned, you-you act quick, keep alive, quick-fast, maybe time if hurry."

[~Corvus~]

Tun reaches down to the body. His hands glow with a dark cone, and he touches the body. "Freshly dead, and still warm but...Snich, this is poison."

His hands glow again, this time with a green cast, and he mutters, lots of centipede poison...won't kill someone...Anemone venom, clever, fearsome...and what's this? Tun sniffs and a greenish vapour, erupts from the man's body as Tun leans in. The creature chokes, nearly exactly like the Incarnum man, and sputters, "Ch-chok-oking gaa-ak-ash?!?" He turns his head to Snich and his eyes turn from silver orbs to a depth-less darkness, and Tun gaps out, in a voice that would be violently furious if its body wasn't starting to spasm.

"TRA-AAK-AITOR!! YOU-KKOO-- THE AN-KEM-ONKEE--AKHH" Tun manages little other than, Hekk--eepp--help! Rekkee-I'll rekkee-wark-rekwarkkkhh---

REwardkkkh youu if-khu hepp---kkhh. The creature, obviously finding something terrible with its affliction reaches out to Snich for aid, its blackened eyes almost trying to pull Snich towards it.

[Tjallen]

Briefly freezing as Tun turns his furious gaze upon him, upon realizing that something in the mixture is clearly weakening the monster. Snich quickly decides on the best course of action upon being declared a traitor: "Anemone is antidote? I help"
Snich then quickly sends two arrows laced with anemone poison flying towards the choking Tun.

[roll0] for [roll1] if flat-footed +4 damage, also anemone poison: [roll2] strength and [roll3] dex, crit confirm [26] for an additional 28 damage (+8 if flat-footed)
[roll4] for [roll5] if flat-footed +4 damage, also anemone poison: [roll6] strength and [roll7] dex

Still ignoring dr as if arrow is: Blunt, slashing, magic, alignment, cold iron and silver

[~Corvus~]

Tun chokes and writhes in pain as the arrows pierce its skin. The creature seems to relax as the poisons penetrate its person and its eyes turn from black to a shifting grey. "Foo--hakkk Fool! The--kak--soul--the soulbinder's traitor--

Now, you--hakk--now you--chh now you too? How could you? The creature swirls its hands; a black void appears and a cat-sized, round red creature with small wings appears. "TUrn to--gak--hyrda--kill--raaaatt!!" it orders at the creature. It, in turn, replies, "You summoned the wrong one, boss. No can do. " Just like that, the critter goes back into its portal.

Snich bears the scene in wonder. Knowledge, stories of his past life and memories flood him. The Anemone poison has, it seems, reacted with the poison that the Incarnum man digested. In chemical terms, the Anemone Poison is a potent ner-targeting posion with an acid that causes rapid-onset blindness; whatever the man drank reacted with the poison to form copious amounts of Chlorine gas; it stands to reason that the man must have drank concentrated Sodium Hypochlorite, somehow bound into an organic compound so that it wouldn't evaporate. Other (unknown) chemicals have accelerated the process and created an explosion of gas.

The Tun before him is not what it appears to be. Tun appears to be a Devil, specifically a Remmanon, a being of deceipt and subterfuge that preys upon the jealousy greed and resentment of others. They are masterful manipulators, liars, mind-reader and summoners. Tun has demonstrated many qualities, but not all. It had summoned an (uncooperative) imp; these practices are, of course, common in mage traditions, and similar creatures were often used by other Skaven to do the bidding of others. However, the strange eyes of Tun's speak to a greater complexity than this.

Having observed Tun in his myriad forms of human, Snich wonders whether it is a creature that the Eshin themselves would often clash with in the myriad chaos of terror-space. Specifically, extra-planar beings called Nerra often abducted, did contract-work for, and took the forms of their victims, and to boot, they could move across reflective surfaces, which is in line with many of Tun's actions so far. Indeed, Tun would seem to have had a gestalt-race of these creatures. Further evidence is that Nerra are, oddly enough, extremely resilient to spells but highly allergic to acids and poisons, due to their (usual) metallic form. This may explain Tun's form, but it doesn't explain his powers.

The magics Tun's clan were involved in were relatable types of Skaven blood-magic: sacrifice a number of individuals and gain something relative to the value of the sacrifices (and since Skaven are usually worth little-to-nothing, sacrifices of their kin required enormous numbers). The simple fact that Tun has both moved about through blood and performed at least 1 blood-sacrifice shows that he is at least a capable blood-magician if not more. However, neither Remmanon nor Nerra use blood-magic, so it's entirely possible that Tun is a monster altogether more powerful than any of these three creatures.

There are 2 creatures of the Nature-aligned planes that Snich has heard of that could or would harness the powers of great demons, plane-hopping body-snatchers, or blood magicians. First is the Tarrasque. Whispered of only in the fever-dreams of the craziest Skaven, this beast absorbs magic, items, powers, poisons, memories and life-forces of all it consumes; it wrecks cities and destroys civilizations. Truthfully, only the greatest of mages can defeat them at incredible cost. Realistically, though, a Tarrasque seems more likely to be the fevered wish of a Skaven deep within its desires to vanquish its foes. As for the second, more later.

Tun's now silent and writhing body conveys that it's not feeling well.

The Arcane world that Snich has known involves strange Tranmutations including spells such as Polymorph, an iconic spell of its line allowing the user to go beyond alternate forms and disguises and truly adopt the physical aspects of the adopted form. He's even heard of Shapechange, a power so great it's never seen and only rumored about. Shapechange is a pinnacle of Transmutation and conveys magical benefits, supernatural powers and resilience of the forms; its only limit is the knowledge and creativity of the user. Tun has some degree of mastery of powerful Transmutation magics. Furthermore, Tun's capacity for both teleportation and summoning points to its power as a Conjurer. However, beyond its arcane markings, it's tough to determine what, exactly, it is.

Dragons, while the greatest of them possess significant and powerful magics in both of these fields, they are too vein to be anything but themselves; powerful or not, they would not be Tun. A magical beast of Tun's powers and myriad forms would need to be significantly complex, and nearly al of these creatures, too, tend to be esoteric enough to desire their own forms unless under extreme duress. Tun, however it may be, seemed to be operating with a great deal of freedom and never with intent to escape from its place, and did not ever seem under magical compulsion. A magical beast seems right-out. Finally, the last of the great arcane creatures are Constructs. Nearly every one is crafted meticulously by a creator with limited intelligence and capacity for advanced reasoning. The rare few that do gain intelligence are often creatures to which strange parts are grafted in powerful rituals. But did this apply here?

Tun's form, in his fading consciousness, remains solid. It's likely not a construct.

But there's one other being of the nature-bound world this could be, and this material reaches Snich through twists and turns of his mind and past lives he dares not delve. Rokugan is a place that venerates the elements: Fire, Air, Water, Earth, and Void. The Void is the product of all elements and the presence of none, a contradiction and completion of the elemental cycle. There is, however, a being that is directly opposite the Void, that has the ability to mimic creatures, warp them, and even potentially bring them together in twisted ways: The Great Shadow, the Lying Darkness, the original Progenitor of the Rokugani realm.

Although it's not in arcane lore, what seems to have happened here is that the Lying Darkness has made a vessel of arcane nature, crafted of the fused souls of many creatures, forced into one being, and left with (sadly) what was once mostly a Devil has been trapped in and willingly stays in this world.

Relevant to Snich, and perhaps even important, is that this pseudo-devil being will honor contracts and deals, but only how it sees fit. It has a desire to live, for if it dies here, due to the nature of its abnormal creation, it will die forever, and so, too, will the magics it uses and binds all fall away.

[Tjallen]

Looking absolutely hurt at the accusation of being a traitor Snich tries to defend himself and bargain: "You said 'anemone-help', I help, now you betray?", if not for the fact that he rapidly casts a spell, and sends two arrows towards the corrupted devil, one imbued with acid, one would probably even believe him.

Swift action Critical Strike: +1d6 damage, double threat range, +4 to confirm.
[roll0] for [roll1] +4 if flatfooted + [roll2] acid + [roll3] + DC 25 fort or suffer [roll4] dex damage, secondary 2d6
[roll5] for [roll6] +4 if flatfooted + [roll7] + DC 25 fort or suffer [roll8] dex damage, secondary 2d6

Poison doses left: 1 x anemone 1 x centipede.

[~Corvus~]

The arrows thud into the ground near Tun.. At least they seem to offer him something weak to lean against. Tun does little more than gurgle, barely able to acknowledge the ratling's actions.

[Tjallen]

Annoyed with being ignored Snich shoots more arrows at the fiend: "Must-must revoke murderings, promise no hurt"

casting critical strike once more
for [roll1] + [roll] 1d6 +4 + DC 25 fort or suffer dex damage, secondary 2d6
[roll3] for [roll4] + [roll] 1d6 +4 + suffer [roll5]/[roll6] str/dex damage, secondary blindess

[~Corvus~]

Tun grits its teeth. I rescind-- all orders--to kill th--the one n- the one named Snich. I will agree to--a truce--khh

[Tjallen]

"All-all punishment too! You call traitor and attempt murder, human commit suicide, you blame Snich, is wrong." at this point Snich stays his hand, but nocks and poisons an arrow and points it at Tun.

[~Corvus~]

In a moment of what seems to be genuine concern for compassion, Tun grits its teeth and says, "I--khhh...I am willing to believe you. Hel-ppht" At this point Tun would say is interrupted as it vomits what seems to be a semi-silver, somewhat charcoal substance from its mouth.

"Rekkkhh

..

Rekkhh---

...

Burn it! Burn itkkhhh Burn throat! Face! Burn my face!"

[~Corvus~]

Tun pulls a flame from its hand, and confers it to a branch nearby. "Here...kkkhh

No... No pnushment. Will not...punish.."

Blood Rituals are a tricky subject. They involve precise lines, clever wording, and almost always a dark patron to guide the magic, to whom it confers benefits for a promise of exact rewards.

For Rokugan, blood magic means a surrender to either the Lying Darkness or the Taint of Daigotsu, a pseudo-rival of the Darkness and a fallen god. Little is known from an arcane-magics side, however, as blood magic delves into the spirit realm and falls under the purview of other knowledge.

Tun could have its true being forth with a Protection from the Shadowlands spell, which would be easy enough to figure out: he'd likely only have to reverse the blood-magic runes of any of Tun's rituals and it would convey protection from the influence of either Fu-Leng, the Corruptor or the Lying Darkness.

[Tjallen]

Snich scurries closer to the downed devil, taking the burning branch out of it's hand and pressing a talisman from one of his many pouches into Tun's hand.
"Active, protect from poison, short time." As he lets go of the talisman he starts burning away the poison with the branch.

[~Corvus~]

Tun sputters and coughs, and as the flaming branch is applied, his mouth even seems to heal with its application, and he continues to hack and wheeze, expelling more liquids from his self. However, in a few minutes, Tun speaks clearly, even if he doesn't look any better.

"Bested by a rat and a human. Pah!

...now let's see... Tun gets up and walks over to the corpse of the incarnum-shaper and feels his body. "Cool. Not at all good, not at all good. How did this...

Tun touches several pieces of stray branches nearby, setting them on fire, then pulls away many more branches from trees. Tun then summons a large and black creature, winged and foul-faced, clearly a demon, and instructs it to break several trees and move them over to a bent one. That done, he dismisses the creature, and and after touching them until they begin to smoke and wilt, he sets about making an impressive fire, and puts the body of the man next to the fire, and then takes some of the spiked metal wire wrapped around his arm and quickly crafts a cradle of sorts. Soon, the body of the man is warming up, suspended near the flames.

Tun rounds on Snich as the smell of cooking flesh, which smells tantalizingly like pork, envelops you both. "Tell me what happened from the moment you took him. None of your stuttering, sentence-murdering speech. Be precise; its critical you tell me as exactly as you can.

As Snich talks, Tun cuts the man's leg, and cups his hand to collect blood, and tosses it to the ground. With his other hand, he collects the earth where the blood has fallen, and before long, Tun has formed a crude earthen bowl with blood, and pulls the man's flesh from his leg. Drying flesh reaches you, now, and soon Tun has also crafted a fleshy string from which to hang the bowl. The devil concentrates on the spot just below the bowl as the ratling speaks, and he can tell that a great deal of heat emanates from just under the bowl.

[Tjallen]

Still empowered by the magic of his God, Snich speaks clearly and confidently: "I picked up the human, saw one of the others, didn't see any of the rest. He surrendered and came peacefully. We flew here to not get interrupted as the group couldn't be counted on to provide protection. Upon land Skree flew into some trees and crashed. The human took advantage of this and attacked Skree. I was left with a choice between saving him and catching the human. I decided to catch the human. I turned invisible with the wand and followed him tagging him with a couple poisoned arrows. He flaunted the request to be taken in alive. I aimed to neutralize him with poisoned arrows. He drank some sort of vial and turned at the last second which made the attack fatal. Then I contacted you instantly."

[~Corvus~]

Snich's mind pricks, and though he resists, the piercing feeling grows until it's nearly intolerable. Moments later, the feeling fades. Meanwhile, Tun nods as Snichtalks, and it continues its work. It takes the man's fingernails and toenails, now hardened by the flame's heat, and using small pliers it takes from its pouch, removes each nail. The sickly squelching sounds let Snich know that this man is dead beyond any doubt, or he'd be screaming if he wasn't already. Tun procures a mortar and pestle and grinds the nails into a semi-bloody paste. It shoves a hand into the man's mouth and adds saliva--or what's left of it-- to the mixture and churns it, adding little bits of saliva until a paste forms. Tun removes the bowl from its perch, spreads the paste all over the outside of the bowl, and puts it back in the fire, first upside-down and then right-side up.

"Clear the ground of rubbish, quickly. I want a clear and flat circle ." Less a request than an order with a hint of emotion behind it, the devil continues its work without bothering to see if its orders are followed.

Tun again reaches into its pouch (clearly it is some form of extradimensional bag) and pulls out a thick jug, and puts it in the fire. A few minutes after Snich has finished his tale, Tun has a working bowl, glazed and grim-looking, and now makes precise cuts in the man's body. With a bowl that quickly fills up, Tun slings blood over the (cleared) ground, precisely and accurately, as only a person with several lifetimes' experience of dealing with blood will do. Soon he has a complex circle with symbols and lines of blood. Tun removes the body from its sling, dangles it, and uses the wire to position the body as he positions it on the ground face-down.

Perhaps most incredible of all, the body barely looks cooked from the fire. Instead it simply looks was warm and almost alive, as if the person were resting instead of dead. Tun takes the thick jug, which now smells like a flowery and nutty oil, and pours it over the body. The devil massages the oil into the body, intoning a few words: "Rest, human, and dream. Let your spirit linger a moment longer as I mark you for passage to the spirit-worlds. Tun now takes the last of the bowl, and with the last of the blood he's drained, re-draws the symbols and lines into the body that it has obscured. Not a drop is wasted, and not a drop more is used; no blood flows from the man's body, Snich sees, and it is now that it becomes irrefutably clear that, more than anything, Tun is a master in its ability to work rituals with blood.

Tun turns to Snich, and uncharacteristically conveys a sense that it cares what Snich has done. You are lucky, Snich, that you have both told me some truth and that I believe the important details of your story. You are even luckier, too, that this man spent his life working with the deceased spirits of beasts, humans, and even plants; his soul and spirit have threads of life that, even now, cling to his body and make him a prime focus for this ritual.

Please understand, Snich, I am choosing to trust you. I will be performing a ritual under that assumption. I am...taking a risk, which goes against my being to do so.. The devil's eyes again have their silver sheen, but the ratling can now spot pips of black scattered amongst their otherwise reflective surfaces. "If you must speak, it will help the both of us if you corroborate what I say."

Tun then speaks in a foul language that warps the air around you both, and though he catches a few words from the Oni language, there is little to know other than he's summoning the presence of a power greater and more fearsome than you both. Shadows from the woods around you elongate; the ground feels like it's dropping away, like how he'd feel when Skree was in a sharp descent, and shadows grow and bend and warp and shift so smoothly Snich would swear he's moving, speeding along somewhere. Heat, terrible heat, far greater than the fire, enters the air around you and so does cold, a chill so fierce that Snich wonder when his bones will crack and break apart. His feet pulse and the ground thuds around him, warping his senses into a frenzy of sensation. Snich can feel his body becoming sick, of vile liquid spilling from his stomach, but he dares not move out of fear for what could happen. And then...

...Just as Snich feels his stomach readying itself for him to be sick again, all the sensations stop, provoking a mental lurch so terrible it makes him wonder if he's had too much drink. The body of the man stirs, and from it Tun gets the feeling of a great and terrible presence. And a voice, a great booming voice that is both thought and sound...leaks out.

I...ARRIVE. THERE IS ANOTHER.

"Yes, O great voice. It is an artist in whom I place great trust.

WHY DO YOU CONTACT ME, ARTIST TUN? WHY DO I NOT SEE YOU?

"Forgive me, O great voice, but I have contacted you in a moment of great peril."

YOUR SAFETY IS YOUR TASK, NOT MINE.
Quickly, as immediately as its voice has spoken, Tun" replies, Great Cather Baleth has been subdued; his soul and spirit are yours, Dark Voice, to enjoy.

Thirteen breaths pass the voice speaks again.

THIS ONE'S SPIRIT AND SOUL ARE HARD TO REACH. ARTIST....AH, ARTIST SNICH OF CLAN ESHIN, TELL ME...IS THIS MAN FACE-DOWN BECAUSE YOU ARE IN DANGER? DID THIS MAN ALREADY CEASE TO LIVE?
To the second question, Tun starts to say "No!" but he cuts off as the voice overwhelms his.
ARTIST SNICH, TELL ME WHAT TUN WILL NOT.

The devil, in turn, gives Snich a meaningful look but says nothing. Snich doesn't even feel the prick of magic or even telepathy, but his gaze still holds a wide margin of meaning.

They wait.

[Tjallen]

Clearing a circle as ordered Snich finds another use for the stolen shovel. At a moment where the devil doesn't seem to be doing anything important Snich opens his mouth: "What, exactly are you doing?"

Scared out of his mind, the only thing keeping him thinking straight is the magic of confidence and lies bestowed by his patron deity.
"He was a danger, but I used poison to incapacitate him. He clings to life with his very soul so his true death is merely close at hand, I would think. Do you want me to shoot him to make sure he is dead?"

[~Corvus~]

Silence stretches for a while, but the vast presence remains.

CLEVER WORDS... ARTIST TUN I COMMEND YOU FOR YOUR CHOICE IN COMPANY. THOUGH I DID NOT CALL THIS ONE YOU FOUND IT AND BROUGHT IT TO ME.

THE SOULS OF THE DEAD IN THIS COUNTRY LEAVE MUCH BEHIND. YOU SUBDUED A MAN WHOSE PLEDGE TO GREAT POWER WOULD HAVE UNDONE THE PRESENCE OF THEM ALL. HIS DEATH AND MY POSSESSION OF HIS SOUL ENSURES THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN

ALREADY A GREAT CITY IS WRENCHED FROM THE HANDS OF THE CRAB CLAN AND PLACED IN THE GRASP OF ITS PREVIOUS NOBLE OCCUPANTS. SOME LOSE THE HONOR THEY NEED TO SURVIVE. YOU WILL SERVE ME, ARTIST SNICH. MAKE THE ROKUGANI SUFFER, LIVE PAST THEIR PUNISHMENTS, AND YOU AND ROKUGAN WILL BECOME STRONGER.

FIND A NEW NAME, ARTIST SNICH. I LEAVE FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS WITH ARTIST TUN.

Just like that, the sensation of movement, of the pull of ground, of hot and cold, all vanish, and Snich feels his body is less threatened, less real, less alive....less for the absence of the being.

Where the body was remains a skeleton that turns to a fine dust at the first hint of a breeze. Tun looks to the fire; it has been extinguished. He looks to his bowl, the jugs, his materials; they are dry and clean. Finally, Tun looks to the ratling and asks, "Want to find the nearest village of ratlings, slaughter them in a blood rite, and make you a new bat?"

[Tjallen]

Looking upon Tun as less of a being of pure terror after the brush with the voice and seeing him incapacitated, the now nameless ratling offers a slight deviation to the plan: "Skree was the last part of my clan, and apparently I am renaming myself. Perhaps this is an opportunity to found a new clan, perhaps we could find some volunteers?"

[~Corvus~]

There's a large village of Nezumi amongst the Phoenix, and they live in isolation. It will take us a few weeks to reach them. We can discuss our plans as we travel.

[Tjallen]

"Perhaps reclaim Skree, his existence would not be pleasant to have discovered, it would be detrimental to have it discovered." Snich offers as he gets ready to head towards the ratlings who had the misfortune to be isolated and worth his attention.

[~Corvus~]

Tun nods and you soon find yourself among the thick brush and branches that ensnared the beast. Tun looks to Snich and chuckles. "It's long dead and it's bled away most of the blood from those slashing wounds. I can't do much with this, and we can't burn it here or risk a massive blaze; that would summon Rokugani and they'd find out. This one's on you Snich. What shall we do?

Tun gets a devilish grin on his face. I don't know what to do here.

[Tjallen]

Snich shrugs and picks out a butchers cleaver from one of his pouches: "Cut him up and eat him, going to need provisions."

[~Corvus~]

The devil smiles. He helps Snich and even shows him where to find muscles, how to cut strands so they stay intact, and in a very grisly way they methodically take the beast apart; they even use its leathery hide to form a simple sling to drag the meat until they can cook it.

A few hours later Snich has eaten the best meal its had in weeks, spiced with what Tun declined to say and plenty left over to carry.

It will be a long trek into the mountains from here. Who knows what you'll find in the meantime?

[Avatar_Image]

Dignity quarters Kyuden Gotei

As the two of you travel up the stairs, you wonder why you are following this odd looking Eta. The man doesn't look like anyone you've met in Rokugan, though Kyorlin feels he has meet him before. He leads you to a small room, at the end of the hallway, and bids you enter. He follows and seals the door. He brings out an item from a pouch that is disturbing to look at, that you just now notice, a candle. He sets it in a lantern and lights it.

There is faint spark of magic and then you can no longer hear the world outside the room. The smoke of the candle expands to the walls and ceiling and clings to it. You are surprised that, unbidden, you present the corpse bags of Specimen as well.

The silver haired mans bearing changes once the effect has taken place. No longer a servants but more an equal.

"Now, My lords, we can speak frankly and plainly. It has been awhile since we last met, Kyorlin, and this will be our first meeting, Yhrashnal. I am Tun. A fellow servant of the Voice."

The mans eyes glint a silver color, and a moment later the two of you can see yourselves in them.

[WarHunter]

Kyorlin

Greets Tun with a curt nod Its been so long Tun, I thought you may have forgotten about us or perished. We have lost 5 void called since I have last seen you and the void as sent us 3 4 replacements most of which are included in the former tally. This is our "swordsman" I used to just called him Beast, mostly before the time he first died, as such I omitted him from the casualties.
He will introduce himself to you.


Gestures towards the remains This was a voiced called creature, he didn't speak much but I will miss him most of all. So many battle plans I had for us and I only got to use two. shakes his head I'm going to attempt to preserve him atleast in incarnum. This would be easier with my teacher's guidance, would you be able to fetch him?

While I wait for him do you have any special items for us? The humans here seem to hate magic as it seems to bring shame to them or some such nonsense.

[Avatar_Image]

Dignity quarters Kyuden Gotei

I did not forget about you Kyorlin though all seemed to forget about me. Remember, my purpose was not to babysit you. You all had the opportunity to ask me for aid, but did not.

The Incarmun does not work as you wish however if you wish to preserve 627 as a part of you, that is easily doable. Your master however was murdered by a rat you may have encountered.


As for magic, I believe you are not looking hard enough: You left behind the cleavers that murdered your compatriot here; you also forgot the Lord who hounded you from Mizu Musa. You have had ample opportunity to take your enemies strength for your own. And remember that our deal, personally, was that you would do me service in exchange for power.

Though you do have a piece worthwhile to me. The Bone dancer's soul. I can see it within you.
Would you care to make a Trade?

[WarHunter]

Kyorlin

Looks of shock, confusion, wrath and a hint of betrayal pass through his eyes. His body shudders as if the surface tension holding himself together was about to burst, threatening to unleash turbulently. Suddenly a deadly calm comes over him

(Quietly) It seems we have been acting with some inaccurate information.
During our first mission I merely tried to contact you and was you never answered.
(Speaking normally) I will make that Vermin pay, I wasn't done using that iblith.
(More amuzed)Cleavers? I fight with my claws and in my true form my teeth also those weapons could barely hurt me or my allies and only killed some tired Samurai....

Sits down somberly Maybe
the creature, 627 was it? Wasn't as great as we thought, the cleavers killed him and the Lord almost killed him. We thought him our equal so we mistakenly thought that if one blow from this lord could almost kill him we wouldn't stand a chance...

Stands upTun we can not detect magic so how are we going to find it? Your plan was flawed and you speak of the Bone Dancer's soul but we were told we didn't properly kill him so how can I have his soul? And even if I did what would you have to trade for it?

[Doxkid]

Yhrashnal shrugs off his form, his body expanding with fur-bound muscle that matches his true strength. An offer of a trade is none too interesting for him, but he is not so ignorant that he would deny the offer outright.

"Hm." Yhrashnal never particularly considered what information the rest of the team had, or whether they were tasked with more than what The Voice asked of him. It seems now is a time to cultivate new knowledge from the loose strings of information scattered around. "This Yhrashnal believes that Samurai Lord deserved to survive. His responses were appropriate: study the enemy, preserve information, then slay all those who oppose him. Provoking him creates another enemy for our enemy. If given a chance this Yhrashnal will antagonize him again. However that...is not the point of this meeting. Our momentum is stalled. Where are the battle lines? Where are the enemy domains beyond the Shadowlands?

We have claimed Fundai Mura. These mortals are willing to learn and willing to act; even if they cannot fight they will arm those who will. The river beside them is vital.

We have enraged Kyuden Morehei. The Lord knows enemies draw near. It will not take much to bring his sword to bare against foe we drag before him. Likewise, the river beside them must be protected.

Kyuden Hida...this warned all those who survived. Even without our actions the humans will fear sharing Kyuden Hida's fate. If it is still in enemy hands we can reclaim it. If not, the humans will rebuild. Their walls will be higher. Their swords sharper. Their watchmen will not rest.

We have a foothold in the Northern coast; only Sunda Mizu Mura needs our attention. This Southern land is yours and you are not far from the Eastern lands.

The Shadowlands are to the West; even without knowledge of the enemy's movements that would need our action. Iuchiban range is a vast base just inside the Kaiyu wall. An unassailable domain...for mortals. The only domain in that territory we have not touched is... 'Niwa Kage Toshi'? 'Niwa shi'?" Unfortunately his growth does not mean Yhrashnal has learned to care more about the names of mortal domains. Especially not ones he is not interacting with. "I have heard it is a garrison. A fortress. But...so was Fundai Mura alongside it. We should test their defenses, then move on to other work." physical power was not enough and magical power is limited, so Yhrashnal has resorted to the next weapon in his arsenal.

"Besides this, this Yhrashnal would need assistance with his identity." Once more he returns to that noble form of the False Samurai. With the borrowed voice of a mortal man the False Samurai asks, "Who am I? What is my identity? How can I prove this? Yhrashnal checks this form for any useful trinkets or badges or such items, then tries to summon forth the full armor it once wore; since he obtained the form he never once used its original attire and the Voice granted depth to Yhrashnal's the power of transformation beyond the physical manipulation of flesh his bloodline would allow.

I'm not sure if the clothing is still stored, as per the original power (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=22694664&postcount=395). Since Yhrashnal has never worn anything the original body possessed, but has also never specifically thrown anything away.

[Avatar_Image]

Tun

Tun looks at Kyorlin with amusement.

"I suppose your associate Jade never reveled that ability did she? What cautious girl. I suppose it makes sense given her past. And the company she keeps. For all her new form is a monster, at heart she is still a mortal human girl."

"The creature your fallen compatriot was weak, given that it was still in it's larval state. If it survived it's encounter with it's killers it would of been a complete terror. Also the blow that felled it would have felled any of you. The Oni of these lands are not to trifled with. This the second time you've contended with them and the second time you've lost one of your number to them. Perhaps you should be more cautious and less convinced of your invincibility in the face of the Shadow and those who fight it."

"As for it's soul? Are you not now creature of soul? Demon and Elf? Your twisted form has more hidden about it than you imagine. Why do you think your 'Master' was so easily able to teach you his craft? A craft that many take years to master even the basics? It is because of your blending that you can at all."

"As for why the soul is in you, when you defeated the Bone Dancer it sought to flee its vessel, but another soul weight caught it. Your physical form is soul, and thus dragged off a piece of it. As what to trade for it, well you wish for strength I shall give to it to you in exchange."

He turns to Yhrashnal.

"You do not need to explain your reasoning for not taking the treasures surrounding you, just that you know that they do. The battle lines have become quiet convoluted. There is the army of the dead led by the Bone Dancers and their Master to the north, making their way through the domain of the Crab. The Hobgoblin Khanate's legions pour in form the West, striking at Scorpion and Lion territories, drawing in the Eager and Desperate Unicorn clan to the field. In the far north and east the Phoenix Clan is beset by an army of glass from the burning sands, most likely at the behest of Heavens fallen daughter. The Dragon Clans mystics and Shugenja have moved to assist them. The Crab clans main army and the main Mantis fleet have arrived at sacked Kyuden Hida, and Daimyo Hida Toshinori is most displeased. Although I must commend you on something, your actions in saving the miko and spreading the word of the sack has allowed the Crab to save the City Spirit and break the curse of the Wang Liang. Once you return there, you will find it much different I think.

"That samurai you devoured was an Imperial bodyguard. Protector of the Imperial Magistrates, the physical embodiment of the Imperial Thrones will. Did you wonder why the people of that little town seemed to venerate you? It is because of chance. The boat you stole belonged to the Magistrate sent to investigate the situation of the Southern Domain. The Ring I gave your party, a Magistrates signet ring, with its own powers, but more importantly cannot be false, as it is impossible to forge one. These two, along with that body you devoured show that you are on Imperial business and are to afforded every courtesy. What you do with that gift is up to you."

[Doxkid]

Yhrashnal stews over this new information. Allies hold power they refuse to demonstrate. Enemies closing in from every direction. Soul magic, like the powers his ancestors possess, in the hands of an ally who does not understand the gift. One of Yhrashnal's forms is already important beyond being a noble warrior.

Such a short exchange has revealed so much already; what else could Yhrashnal gain here?

"Good. Just that has made this trip worthwhile.

Besides that, I want to study our fallen. Improve myself with them. Convert this loss into a gain. The Little Beast had potential as a warrior; a body constantly changing, a mind perfectly alert to the world. The Being of Balance would be a great mage; its ancient bloodline ensured this.

If I could truly harness their prowess..."

[WarHunter]

Kyorlin

I have guessed that Jade was an iblith from this land. What she once was doesn't matter compared to what she is now.
Honestly we been so busy we haven't even had full introductions, oh well.

Tun you still have not told me about this trade you have to offer and my patience is short.

[Avatar_Image]

Tun

Tun's eyes narrow at the Kyorlin. A look of annoyance flickers on his face as his eyes gradually brighten. "Your patience is short? I have given you information and power for free, and this is the tone you take with me? Perhaps I should be less generous from now on, little slave of the undercity. The Voice may have chosen you but don't think you can command me."

He glow fades. Tuns once smiling face now marred with a angry line. "The deal is simple. I will take the souls of the Oni you have attached your to own, and the body of the Slaughter Prince, and in return I will use my powers to grant you the abilities of the monsters of this land. Bring me more souls and I'll produce more results. However since you have annoyed me the transaction we will have will cost double the souls. Be happy I am so generous. And don't cross me again."

He turns for Kyorlin and he is smiling once more. "Now, Yhashnal was it, you wish to gain something form our little fallen slaughter princeling? What would you want in exchange for your half of the body and your own blood? As for this being of balance? Now who might that be?

[WarHunter]

Kyorlin

(Flippantly)Oh Tun may I not be self-deprecating, surely I didn't know it would offend you. I do appreciate the information but I haven't seen much power beyond the ring and healing box. I don't even know where the bright wooden necklace, the multicolored bright flask, and the crab talisman are. I assume some got left behind with the other void called that didn't make it.
It's refreshing for you to be speaking so casually with us. Hey "swordsman" when Tun first spoke with is he referred to us as Lords and had this stifling servitude act- reminded me of home:yuk: pulls out his jug of saki
Do you partake? pours three cups setting them between everyone.

[Doxkid]

Yhrashnal

The Beast ignores the offered sake, aloof to the indulgences of mortals befitting it's true nature unlike the fiend cursed with the lowly blood of a Drow; that the Drow-Fiend would disparage the origin origins of the Water-Elemental is just so shortsightedly mortal of the creature. At the very least the Drow-Fiend could wait until business is resolved before clamoring to call the kettle's colors...

"I want to study his flesh.

The Little Beast... Its body was not like those of this world. Nor like mine. It was unique. Even the traits shared are different in nature, mirrored by coincidence. I suspect this inborn ability is why you need the body; why you are willing to part with gifts and power in exchange for it." It's obvious that this fellow, this Voice Called being, has some use for the corpse of their comrade. Yhrashnal does not reset him for needing the body of their own fallen for the Beast is in a similar situation. Fortunately, Yhrashnal is of Old Blood. His means are not as limited as the beings of this era.

"To gain the Little Beast's power I need the corpse. However...to merely study it is simpler. If you must have the corpse, I must have the Bloodline Essence; blood from within it's stilled heart. This will be enough to examine its methods; I will not have its form and I will not have its abilities, but I will still learn." The Beast is magnanimous enough to tolerate the needs and personalities of the other Voice Called; allowing others an avenue by which they can improve upon their own abilities will only benefit Yhrashnal in the long run.

"The Being of Balance fought alongside our group in Kyuden Hida. It has since vanished, perhaps onto another task or into its next life. The magic its body and blood carry interest me as my magic has been...diminished by indiscretion long ago. If it is not in your grasp then I will find another method.

A fair trade for the corpse of that Little Beast would be a mortal-crafted sword. I cannot use your magical trinkets and I have no interest in borrowing power beyond that which the Voice awakened within me, so a weapon and a chance to improve on my own will be plenty. Two or three swords would be better, if you have some to spare; even without the Blood Essence of the Little Beast there are abilities I have nearly awakened that will be of good use. I merely need time. Time to consolidate what I have already learned. Time to precipitate results from research."

[~Corvus~]

Tun regards Kyorlin briefly; its mouth folds towards a point and its brow slants downwards a tad, but accepts the alcohol, and also takes the cup of saké that would be offered to Yrashnal, despite anyone's objections.

"You have barely scratched the surface for the power of the ring. You wear it like a child bears a sword: incapable of comprehending its purpose and power, you complain it is useless. Nothing could be further from the truth.

As for the necklace and the Talisman, they are not with me, but I accept your claim that they are lost. Subtleties like this mark the difference between a lord and a...warrior.

Tun conjures a floating metal disc and places the cups of alcohol upon it. He listens to Yrashnal speak, and nods when he has finished. "Your offer is acceptable. This body, even cloven in two, still holds great power. Had you waited a full week you may not have been so fortunate.

Tun unwraps the creature from its waterproof wax-cloth and dips its fingers in the blood pooled therein. The silver-eyed man motions the two of you back, away from the area. He flicks his fingers and sprays blood in what seems to be a random spatter of flecks then places the body into the circle. Holding the cloth in one hand, the silver-eyed man spreads the blood into a complex lattice of squares, circles, and nearly-unreadable symbols. Some of them are even painful to look at, as if the marks themselves pull life away from them. Finally, Tun takes one cup of alcohol and tosses it on the cloth, then conjures a white-hot flame from its hand. The sake burns sweet and quick, and the fire flares, burning even hotter than it should, and as Tun swings the burning-melting cloth, wax drips to connecting-points, still sizzling, and soon the covering is no more.

Tun pours the second cup of saké in a dribble to his bloody hand, and moves the finger around where Specimen's body has made a large stain of blood. When the alcohol is finished, he places the cup on the metal disk and then lights the alcohol; it and the blood burn away into a complex and swirling symbol, which then spreads to the matrix and its symbols, and soon the room shakes with power and the symbols fill the room with darkness, mind-crushingly vast and so utterly cold you can feel your bones ready to shatter.

And just at the moment where you don't feel you live any longer, light and the warmth of life returns. Swirling in five points around the circle are glints of light, two practically invisible and three are red-and-black crystals; in the center of the circle is a red-and-black sheathe. Tun snatches the crystals up and places them in a pouch. He then picks up the sword and hands it gingerly to Yrashnal. That creature is deliciously powerful. Yesss...This will do, I suspect.

The Uncrowned Slaughter
This is a Masterwork Katana with a simple wood sheathe with a red-and-black marbling pattern. In the right hands, it is deadlier than it looks.
Masterwork (+1 attack)
Material: this Blood-forged Bone-shard blade has a hardness of 20 and 15 HP.
Bastard Sword (Katana); 1d10, 19-20/x2

Slaughterking's Blood (Ex) You may expend a use of your Hexblade's curse to Poison The Uncrowned Slaughter (DC equal to your curse) for 1 minute (10 rounds).
For every 2 HD you have, the poison deals 1d4 Str damage, initial & secondary.

[Doxkid]

Yhrashnal

The Beast eyes ignite with greed and it eagerly takes the sword by the blade itself, one hand grasped just under the handgaurd and the other upon the sheathe. His fresh red blood crawls across the weapon, creeping into the metal and soaking into the sheath, and a pulse of grisly energy resonates between this tribute and the sword itself. Hair thin fibers of flesh scrub the entire length of the sword and every recess of the sheathe, flowing like liquid that evaporates under the heat of his magic, and the becomes ready to dole punishment befitting Yhrashnal's judgement.

That dull red light to Yhrashnal's eyes fills with light once more; bright with hatred for all other beings, and with hunger for the souls of those who do not serve his will.

"This..." There are only hints of what Specimen once was upon it, but in his current state this is more than enough to give Yhrashnal very interesting ideas; some of which he can put into practice soon and others that he must enjoy more conflict to properly understand. Already he is testing less traditional systems for explosive power by reattaching muscles at new points of his skeleton, or forgoing the use of muscles entirely for strange 'fluids' that he abuses for hydraulic pressure one moment and a solid mass of flesh the next; his skin wriggles and his black fur ripples like the sea churning as beast battles man and man battles storm and storm suffers the oppression of the moon in the sky.

"...This will certainly do."
Yhrashnal resonates with the sword, overwriting the Masterwork quality with attunement to the Savage Trait.

[WarHunter]

Kyorlin-

Jaded by his former life of sacrifices and dark rituals he merely picks up his cup and swirls it as the task is completed. Once the sword is birthed he let's out a low whistle That is likely the most valuable thing you will ever own...in purely sentimental way of course.:wink: cheers raises his cup towards the swordsman and his new sword.

[Doxkid]

Yhrashnal

The Beast feeds the sword his inner power as he gauges its weight and heft, letting the sword draw from him greedily. In moments an strange ichor not unlike his own blood rises from pores along the mune and drool down to the cutting edge; those with a powerful nose might detect the slightest scent of Specimen upon this liquid, under the dissipating stench of smoke and blood from the ritual moments earlier. "Perhaps, Drow-Fiend. But there are many powerful beings in this world. My kind consumes flesh. Devours souls. But it seems there are other methods to punish those who walk this land. Nothingness is a blessing. Eternal torture is insufficient. Perhaps endless servitude..."

Yhrashnal sheathes the sword at his waist beside its senior weapon, the Ruined Blade. "We have learned a great deal. Kyuden Morehei's Samurai Lord will be a fine test. Then a visit to Sunda Mizu and Kage Toshi to solidify the North. After we can scout Iuchiban, then raid the Shadowlands.

Have you any requests, Voice Called Tun? Or, perhaps, insights?"

[Avatar_Image]

Tun

Tun looks at Yharshnal with lidded eyes. "Perhaps. But I've already given you and your fellows much for free, anymore and trade will be required. Insight for insight. Power for power, life for life.

Tun makes another gesture and the room starts to revert to its previous, normal feeling. As if the area was being cleaned of influence.

"I will reveal one thing however. Rokugan is now aware of you. What you represent if not what you are. Be wary for while it's mortal agents may be blind to your activities, Rokugan is not.

Another gesture and Yharshnal is presented with small stone with a dull red glyph burned into it. "Us this to exist this sanctum, and return to your duties." After that he dismisses you.

He turns to Kyorlin. "We still have to discuss what to do with you."

[Doxkid]

Yhrashnal

The beast is somewhat dubious about using a magical trinket but assumes the form of the False Swordsman and makes his way out without any further questions or comments; he needs time to confer with the lesser Voice Called and to build upon the foundation lain out today, so being dismissed so overtly does not bother him as much as it might annoy others.

Even in the form of this Imperial Bodygaurd he continues testing his new ideas deep below the surface of his skin; completely disregarding the use of muscle and bone in favor of an interwoven slush of magical filaments is too complex and too energy inefficient for now. Perhaps if he fully devotes one part of his being to digesting souls and another portion of his essence to digesting physical matter, he could find a 'cheaper' workaround...

[WarHunter]

Kyorlin

Sips his drink then holds it off to the side Well here we are, we going roll talk business or get to know each other... I have no idea what you are, did the void make you that way or are you self made so to speak.

[Avatar_Image]

Tun

"No, I am myself. Anymore would be telling, offer something of equal value and then you may learn. Till then, business."

[WarHunter]

Kyorlin

Laughs alright, so I have this bone dancer soul and about 200 gold pieces,
what will that get me? A magic multi shot crossbow, with impact oil filled bolts maybe? Better yet 4 of those?

[~Corvus~]

Tun inspects the Draegloth. He finds the gaze of Kyorlin's expectant face and acknowledges it with a sneer.

"I thought you had disdain for mortal weapons? Don't you fight with your claws and teeth? If you'd brought me those magical cleavers, all thirteen of them, I might even be able to justify the trouble of finding you one of these sorts of Crossbows. Very well..hand over what you have, and I will tell you how much I need to give you what you desire."

[~Corvus~]

Several moments of silence pass. Tun observes what passes through Kyorlin's mind:
Thoughts of frustration, rage even, at being so shortchanged and criticized by him. Here it is, a creature that rebelled from its bonds, escaped, and now feels pulled in a world where its human side has been encouraged, even forced, over its other nature.

Thoughts were there, too, of apathy--likely brought forth from the destructive chaos in its dual-natured body. Kyorlin has a demon-side that still delights in torment of its mortal side. Tun savors these feelings, a tingle that spreads from the core of its mind to its body-soul. Even as this happens, though, it feels an almost-choke in its throat, a mortal feeling. Weakness that it had long suppressed. Or was it a strength?

Tun changes its posture, relaxes his muscles and allows himself to motion to Kyorlin to sit again. "Please, sit. Since it is just us two, I feel I must make a confession, and for this we must share some drink." From his many-skin pouch he draws a small bottle.

He takes the glasses that are still upon the floating disk, then dismisses it. Tun sits and empties the small bottle, filling each cup equally. "Hamatulan icedraught." He waits for Kyorlin to be ready to drink, and will accompany him on the adventure. The sensation is a blend of freezing and warming that spreads from the throat to the stomach to the rest of your chest, and dissipates as it spreads further away from your core.

Tun begins, "You are part Tanar'ri; I am part Baatezu. This explains my hatred for you." As he talks frost appears on his breath. "I have had chances to read your thoughts, and I must share that I, too, have escaped the confines of my home-plane, and as I've lived in this land...I've come to love it here: Nobles vie for control of each other; they lust and bicker and want after each other, and thanks to my many-souled nature, I am free to travel and observe and feel them and manipulate them. These Rokugani feud with each other and their conflicts stoke my mind and soul in ways that I had to work so hard from my home plane. But...

But now they have become distracted from the threat that grows stronger, beyond them. I don't want to lose this place. And you have been brought here with the one that also let me stay here, that protects me from others forcing me to return. I am making a choice to set aside, too, the hatred I feel for your demon-nature and offer you a great deal, a better deal: Three deals, each separate.

First, for that body of the Specimen; I can make an excellent crossbow, a repeater that is easy to use.

Next, possess a gem with part the soul of a once-powerful Arrow-Demon. I can trade you a soul shard for a soul shard; that Bone-dancer's shard--and your gold--to gift you a single and excellent power of this demon's: It can feed from the blood of its minions or even itself to make more arrows, or in your case, bolts.
As a part of a ranged attack action, it may sacrifice 1 HP of itself or a minion (summoned or not) within 120' to produce a bolt of blood for each crossbow you will fire from with this attack action. At 1st level, these bolts act as Masterwork Bolts, but are otherwise mundane.
At 4th level, you may sacrifice an additional 1 HP (2 total) and the bolt acts as if it's also alchemical silver or Cold Iron.
At 7th level, you may sacrifice an additional 1 HP (3 total) and the bolts gain an alignment of your choosing.
At 10th level, you may sacrifice 6 HP and the bolts gain all of the previous possible benefits and also count as Adamantine.


Third and finally, I can offer you--at another time--an item or two that you may use to bargain with a...with a cousin of mine. He is a soul-worker. He can improve your form. Your essence. Your bloodlines. I work with blood and bone, and thus I cannot augment your soul but I can assure you this offer would be a good deal and it would be honored. Should you choose to accept this third deal, I have some tasks.

Tun reaches into his pouch and shows Kyorlin a nearly-invisible stone. Even at a distance, he can feel the warmth from its creation ago with Specimen's other corpse half.

"First, and most importantly, you are to subdue--but not kill--three mortals. It is helpful if you find those that are sinful: the corrupt and greedy, the powerful and abusive-of-station, the furtive backstabber who spends his time thinking only of revenge...these are even better if those committing these acts are convinced they remain blameless of their activities, but this secondary trait--their belief of their innocence--is not necessary.

You must impale them with this gem, and then break them. Snap their limbs, feed them their own flesh, torture their families, mutilate their gentle bits if they are lustfully transgressive...or even gain proof of their acts and compel them to expose their own flaws. The more painful the process it is for these humans, the better. The more witnesses they have to their pain, the better. Once they have broken, the gem will escape their flesh freely. Take it, and release the mortal from their torment, but do not let them die.

Calm them. Assure them that they have suffered for their transgressions, that they are free to live a virtuous life."

"Of course..." Tun laughs, a throaty series of rasps that cause the air in front of him to warp slightly, "Humans will always look for patterns. You must also find two other mortals, those who are not so corrupt, and break them as well.

When these five people have infused the gem with their suffering, you must summon me when you have some time alone. I will know your intent, and I shall bring along my cousin."

Tun lets all of this sit with the Draegloth for a time and then asks, "Do you agree to these deals?"

[WarHunter]

Kyorlin

First off could you imagine what the humans would say if I had started gathering up the weapons of the oni that killed their comrades, the shadow reviled my to true form and I was sure if I didn't act correctly they would have turned on me afterwards, Damm Ilbith

So you holding my Sire against me? My Goddess would likely also offend your sensibilities along with the rest of my people. If that is how you feel about it your lost, let me know if you change your mind and want to create some mayhem.

I only wanted the crossbows as mere toys, but this 3rd option seems like more of a challenge it may take some time to be done correctly. I'll have to make some preparations but I will see to it as soon as possible. Since you enjoy this land so much are their people you would like me to ignore or target, incase I fail and they die I wouldn't want to increase your ire towards me take the drink and clinks its against Tun's and drinks it savoring the icyness and burn. See we can enjoy the same things

[~Corvus~]

"The Tanar'ri and the Baatezu have long been enemies. Have you not even participated in the Blood War? Surely your demon-half has."

When Kyorlin agrees to at least one of his deals, he smiles and drops the gem into Kyorlin's hand. "This will cause a great deal of pain when you use it on others; I hope you enjoy your task."

[WarHunter]

Kyorlin

I am merely 30 years old, likely I missed this blood war you speak of. Draeglothes are raised in the underdark and rarely leave their native plane let alone venture to the surface. I don't even know the name of the glabrezu that sired me.


Takes the gem and points to what is left of specimen's corpse

What will you do with the rest of it?certainly it should be worth some guilt serum or memory erasing potion?

[~Corvus~]

Tun

"You are...a child by Elf standards. Tun becomes lost in his own thoughts, and perhaps this is why Kyorlin goads him about Specimen's corpse.


Almost as if this question is all that he needs to revert back to his old self, Tun says, "Your tribute of this creature still holds power; I will make what I can of it. Perhaps this time, we can..." And the devil becomes lost, again, in drawing blood-circles.

This time, Tun makes a ring out of blood, and he smears a septagram in perfect lines to seven points along it. At the top of the ring, Specimen's corpse leaks less blood this time, and Tun draws even more profane symbols around the intersecting lines. Finally, he draws a teardrop shape on each of the seven intersections, and each teardrop points inwards. Tun takes the other nearly-invisible gem he'd recently made and places it in the centre of the array, above which he now hovers. Tun conjures seven flames, and each of them descend onto the teardrops. The blood-array flows with blood that flows from the corpse until the body of Specimen looks dry, and the blood and the body begin to smoke. The gem in the middle of the array rises in the air, and the smoke drifts lazily but deliberately towards the gem, which begins to cloud and fog. When the gem becomes entirely grey in colour, and it becomes a pocket of thick, swirling smoke, the smoke stops rising from the array, and the gem drifts lazily downwards; Tun catches it and puts it in his pouch.

The creature takes out a flat metal fan and a large beaker; He slowly and deliberately scoops all of the blood, now thick like a gruel, onto the fan, and when he tips it backwards, the blood oozes into the beaker. He repeats this until all of the blood has been scraped off the floor and smiles in what could only be the smile of one who has gained something marvelous. "This blood, you see, will allow me to transmute your companion's poisons. Many hundreds of gallons of it. Very profitable, and worth the effort. He finishes scraping the fan into the flask and cleans them without a drop un-corked, then exchanges the two once again for the recently-pocketed smoky crystal of Specimen

Tun brandishes the crystal. "This is Specimen's soul. And you helped me get it here. I cannot reward you for this, but I can return it to our patron. Perhaps, in time, the Voice will find another companion to bring here. As for you... Tun pauses and his voice softens.


"You would do well to know your sire. You will now know it here, not now, but in knowing who or what it was will give you control of your destiny. Until we meet again... Tun pauses, and seems to be listening, although the magically-sealed room seems impenetrable to outside sound.

"Servants outside the room have passed us by. I must go now; duty calls elsewhere. As Kyorlin makes his exit (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?532206-Rokugan-in-the-Shadows-Ch-1-Gathering-Dark&goto=newpost), Tun brings out the candle that he'd procured from his purse and strikes what looks like a match made of ice. He touches it to the candle, and the vapour, the smoke, and the ward against sound in the room falls as if drawn by a great well, back into the candle.

Tun takes the cloth Specimen had been held in and spreads the last of the blood over it, until it is one large reflective surface. He steps in, and soon his body slips away from the cloth as if it were a portal to another place.

[~Corvus~]

Mists swirl around the mountain hamlet. It's still a few hours before the sun's fingers will grace the town, but light illuminates the concerned villagers' faces. A young woman, her nightgown splashed in copious amounts of blood, explains to the others what she'd seen again, who face her tale with grim faces. A score of villagers stumble upon a grisly scene. A battle, here, and paw prints dot the area; animal fur mixes with human blood; dead men have torn throats and broken limbs, but it's nothing to the man, here, whose body seems rent apart by a powerful claws; his torso is a mangled mockery of human resilience. "The hoofed one took all his gear?"
"Yes!"
One woman speaks in a solid, powerful voice. She wears simple robes but her face bears power and experience with the hard lines and her svelte form. "His heirloom?"
The young woman nods and lets out a sob.
"We cannot do much. She turns to three younger people. "Kuon, Loa, Yuki: ride to Kyuden Gotei. Notify the Watch - they will want to know of restless spirits in the woods. She then turns back to the young woman and her friend that had been there. ""You are lucky that you'd survived such a brutal attack. The battlefield is just as terrible, if not worse. Any soldier must accept their death at any moment; this was simply their time. Be grateful they were there to die for you.". The women nod and the villagers carry the dead back to the village. They leave the mangled man's torso; it is too messy, and no one wants to deal with it. They leave for the village in a sombre procession.

Ikari no Oshika watches as a creature emerges from the forest. A strange humanoid with reddish skin spotted with reflective silver, a spiked tail, cloven hooves for feet, and large, spindly hands. Its skin is spotted with silver patches. However, this form is Shaped under the tough body of a human leatherworker, whose blots are instead seen as body stains from his profession. A cunning disguise for the unknowing. It looks up at you and it hisses. "How long have you been here? What are you doing here? Its voice is metallic and grating.

A name comes to him: Orusc.

[HumanTemplate]

Oshika stares in silence at the creature. His memory swirling through the planes and ancient lore of his kin. When his voice finally comes out, it is a weird sound. Something between a voice and a low hum. It had been a while since he last spoke any language other than the spirit incantations.

"We have been here since the beginning, I have come back only recently, not a hundred human years I have wandered the earth. A mere blink in the eyes of the Kami."

Oshika paused for a few long seconds.

"I have come to recover the gift my people gave to the human lord Taketori Washizu two centuries ago. I came to kill all his kin and hunt down the last of them."

He looked at the demon with the calm of a thousand hunters.

"Is time for his name to be lost forever in the mist."

[~Corvus~]

The creature flinches at the voice Oshika no Ikari uses; it then leans in forward to sniff at the air. "You stink of Chikushudo, the Feywild, But where is the wisp to guide you back from Ningen-do?" It speak of the realm of humans, a jealous place, that does not let spirits that wade into its depths escape it with ease. It sniffs again. It recoils with a jolt of understanding "Ah, the Hunt!! Your kind are welcome to Hunt in other lands of this Realm, but this one is forbidden. So it was agreed with the Dark Voice before your age.

...That is, unless it's agreed to talk to The Voice.

[HumanTemplate]

Oshika Nodded in understanding.

"There's a price to be paid. That I understand. A bargain."

A large ape moved next to Oshika and showed its massive fangs in a snarl.

"Hush now, Ruijin. There's a price we must pay. Call the voice. The name of the Taketori must forever dissappear from this land. And the gift belongs to me now, to roam the earth for an era punishing the heirs of men."


Oshika's eyes gleamed in dark ambar.

"Call the voice. I'm sure I'll get it worthy offerings"

[~Corvus~]

Oshika can think little of what this creature might be other than some kind of devil, but it bears extra-dimensional pockets by its hips and its hands, worn, hard and strong, are supported by retractable fingernails. It has the glint of intelligence but little forethought.

"Brace yourself, the creature says, and before the Wild Hunt or Ruijin can do much, you feel awash a torrent of feelings. Here, there's little light, only weightless and darkness...and cold...it is very cold, as if life cannot exist here for long. Off, very far off, there is a set of lights...and then there is a presence. It gives no warning of approach, no means of detection; one moment, it is simply there, and any means of sight leaves Oshika.

Wild one...here the Old Ways must be observed. This land is connected to the spirits; if you take, you must return a greater favor. Your quest to undo the Washizu is acceptable, but you must not to venture forth from this land until you have served our means to our satisfaction. This will serve as a greater favor. Agree to this and you will be told more.
The voice is the force and power of a furnace among the realm of non-life into which you've been thrust. The words lingers in his thoughts and mind until he forms an answer.

[HumanTemplate]

Oshika was single minded about the task. The voice filled his ears and lingered like a haunting melody.

For any answer, Oshika took the Naginata and drew a long single cut in his left hand, showing the blood dripping to the furnace, he said:

"By blood or by spirit. I must finish my task. And while I roam the earth, I'll make sure to pay you my due. You have the word of the Wild Hunt."

[~Corvus~]

The progeny of Washizu, Taketori
--it's "family name | first name" here--
Have been seeded across this land. Your hunt takes you to the Yoritomo lands; in the secret of their secrets, they might hold more.

Be warned; The humans that guide this land have forgotten the Old Ways, the reverence of spirits. You are to punish these ones, and those that live through weakness. Make them suffer, as they should. This nation will survive only if the people are strong.

[~Corvus~]

To you I give a human Shape to borrow. Wear it while you walk their cities to avoid prejudice.

With his acceptance, and since Oshika has nothing to say, the fey relaxes through the Dark Voice's parting, a tumult of furnace-and-freezing. The Fey finds himself returned to the world. Some time has elapsed; judging by the state of the (now absent) offals and faded bloodstains, perhaps a few days have passed. The sky bears the wan light of the moon and the just-passed sun. A breeze picks up, and blows from the city, bearing with it the scents of rain and now-cleansed stone. The ground is soft and pliable, as it often is after a solid, hard rain upon the island land. There's no sign of "Orusc," the one he'd seen earlier, and the trails of the humans are long-since faded. There's a rustle from the trees nearby.

Ruijin emerges from the foliage and gives several hoots of excited greetings along with an easy, knuckled bow to show his respect.

[~Corvus~]

Oshika beckons to his powerful companion. "Come, Ruijin! We have many men to hunt. Let's study the city." Oshika turns towards Kyuden Gotei; What was the svelte body of a centaur becomes the figure of an elderly man, surprisingly agile and almost believable. Ruijin follows him, and also becomes a small, agile monkey that belies his true strength and size.